Sandalwood Death: A Novel (Chinese Literature Today Book Series)

eat to stay well and strong.”
    Truth is, as I knew all too well, before troubles had beset my dieh, all these county women—young and old, daughters of fine families and prostitutes from local brothels—had ground their teeth when they heard my name mentioned and would have loved to take a bite out of me. They hated the fact of my relationship with the County Magistrate, they hated the fact that I lived better than they did, and they hated the fact that I had healthy, unbound feet that could run and hop and were prized by the Magistrate. Dieh, when you raised the flag of rebellion, their attitude toward me changed for the better, and better still when you were taken into custody. When the Ascension Platform was erected on the Tongde Academy parade ground and an announcement was posted in all the villages that you were to be dispatched by the sandalwood death, well, Dieh, your daughter was transformed into everyone’s favorite niece, loved by all.
    Dieh, last night we tried to save you, and almost won. If you’d not lost your head, the deed would now be done. Dieh, oh, Dieh, four beggars’ lives were lost. Look at the winged walls beside the gate~~your heart will ache, blood from your eyes will run. On the left two heads, on the right three, one monkey and two human. On the left Zhu Ba and Xiao Luanzi, on the right Xiao Lianzi, Houqi, and his monkey, all rotting in the sun. (So vicious that even an innocent monkey was not spared!)
    The sun climbed slowly into the sky, yet all was quiet inside the yamen. I imagined they would wait till noon to take my dieh out of his cell. But already, people—dignified individuals in robes and hats—were emerging slowly from Shan Family Lane, opposite the yamen gate. As the most famous lane in town, it had gained notoriety for being home to not one, but two Imperial licentiates. That glory, however, belonged to the past. Now the family’s reputation was propped up by a single metropolitan licentiate, not quite so honored, but still worthy of admiration. No one in the county enjoyed higher prestige or greater respect than Shan Wen, an old man whose style name was Zhaojin. Although he had never visited our home to buy spirits or dog meat and was a virtual recluse who spent his days reading, writing, and painting, he was no stranger to me. I must have heard Qian Ding mention his name a hundred times, and when he did, his eyes glowed as he stroked his beard and studied samples of the old man’s painting and calligraphy hanging on his wall. “How can a man like that suffer such neglect!” he said with a sigh, and followed that with “How can a man like that not suffer such neglect!” When I asked what he meant by such confusing talk, he would only lay his hand on my shoulder and say, “All the notable talent in this county of yours is concentrated in a single individual, but now the Royal Court plans to do away with the examination system, and he will never have a chance to pass the Imperial Examination, to ‘win laurels in the Moon Palace,’ as they say.” But as I studied the scrolls, with hills and trees that looked like none I had ever seen, with dim outlines of people, and with written characters that did not conform to those I knew, I failed to see a sign of greatness. But what did I, a mere woman who could sing a few Maoqiang arias, know? Master Qian, on the other hand, was an Imperial licentiate, a man of vast knowledge who knew many things; if he said something was good, then good it was, and so in my eyes old Mr. Shan was truly a great man.
    Licentiate Shan had bushy eyebrows, a prominent nose and mouth on a large face, and a beard that, while finer than most, was inferior to Qian Ding’s, the most impressive beard anywhere in Gaomi after my dieh’s was plucked clean; old man Shan now owned the second-finest beard in the county. He was striding at the head of the procession emerging from the lane, head held high, a man comfortable in the position of leader. His head was cocked at a slight angle, and I wondered whether that was a permanent impairment or something unique to today’s circumstance. I recalled having seen him in the past, more than once, in fact, but that detail had escaped me. Cocking his head gave him sort of a wild look, more like a bandit chief than a man of learning. The crowd behind him was composed exclusively of prominent Gaomi personages. They included the corpulent pawnbroker Li Shizeng, in his red-tasseled cap; the skinny Su Ziqing,