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

idle talk is our drink and free chats our meat. Tell us more about Magistrate Qian and the goings-on in the yamen. That will be a sumptuous feast.”
    “I’ve lost interest,” Li Wu replied. “What I can say is, the people of Gaomi County are blessed to have Eminence Qian as their wise and caring Magistrate. Given the depth of his talents, how can we residents of such a trifling little county expect to keep him with us? The day will come when our illustrious official will move up and away from us, if for no other reason than the supernatural beard that adorns his chin. He will attain no less an appointment than Provincial Governor, and when the opportunity presents itself, he, like his esteemed father-in-law, Lord Wenzheng, will become a renowned official for whom the sky is the limit, a pillar of the nation a real possibility.”
    “When Eminence Qian rises to fame, Li Wu will move up along with him,” Collegian Ma remarked. “That is what is meant by ‘When the moon is bright, a bald man shines, and when the water rises, the ferryboat floats highest.’ Brother Li Wu, a toast from your humble servant. What worries me is that once your career is in ascent, I can imagine how difficult it will be to see you!”
    After draining his glass, Li Wu said, “Truth is, for a subordinate, all the fine language in the world can be refined down to a single word: loyalty. If your superior smiles your way, that is no reason to turn up your nose at others, and if he gives you a swift kick, there is no need to bemoan your fate. That does not hold true, however, for men like Magistrate Qian and Lord Wenzheng, who are either heavenly constellations come down to earth or mighty dragons who have returned to the land of mortals, and live in a different universe than us common folk. What, I ask, is Lord Wenzheng? He is a giant python come back to be among us. People have said that he suffered from ringworm, and that when he climbed out of bed each morning, his servants could fill a ladle with the flakes of pale skin on the sheet. But Magistrate Qian took me aside and told me that what they found was snake molt. And what, I ask you, is Magistrate Qian? I’ll tell you, but you must keep it to yourselves. Once, after he and I had talked late into the night, we were so tired we climbed onto the kang in the Western Parlor, curled up, and went to sleep. All of a sudden, I felt something heavy on top of me—I was dreaming that a tiger had its claws in me. I awoke with a fright, and guess what I saw: one of the Magistrate’s legs was draped across my body . . .”
    The men around the table held their breath as their faces paled; their eyes were glued to Li Wu’s mouth, into which he emptied yet another glass. “That is when I grasped the truth that the Magistrate’s beard is so lush that, in reality, it is the beard of a tiger.”
    Sun Bing knocked the ashes from his pipe on a table leg, then puffed up his cheeks and blew the tar out of the stem. After tucking his pipe away, he grasped his beard with both hands and, with an exaggerated and strikingly artistic stage gesture, flung it to one side. Assuming the articulated cadence of an operatic old man, he intoned:
    “Little Li Wu, go back and tell your master for me that the beard on his chin cannot compare with the hair around my prick!”
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    3
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    Bright and early the next morning, before all the fatty pork he’d eaten had moved beyond his stomach, Sun Bing was yanked out of bed by four yamen bailiffs and thrown naked to the floor. His bed partner, Little Peach, an actress who took leading lady dan roles, curled up in a corner, wearing only a red belly warmer, and shuddered from fear. In the chaos that followed, the attackers smashed a chamber pot with a misplaced kick, filling the air with the pungent smell of urine and raising welts all over Sun’s body.
    “Worthy brothers,” he shouted, “let’s talk this out, what do you say?”
    Two of the men picked him up off the floor, twisting his arms behind him, while a third lit a lamp in a wall recess. Sun Bing saw Li Wu’s smirking face in the golden light.
    “Li Wu,” he said, “there is no bad blood between us, never has been, so why are you doing this to me?”
    Li Wu stepped up, slapped Sun, and then spat in his face.
    “You stinking actor,” he said contemptuously, “you’re right, there is no bad blood between you and me. But there is great enmity between you and Magistrate Qian. As his