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

Eminence was smiling, calm and composed.
    “Is there anything else you care to say, Sun Bing?” the Magistrate asked with a smile.
    Sun’s lips were twitching. He said nothing.
    “In accordance with our agreement, Sun Bing, you are obligated to pluck out your beard!
    Sun Bing, I say, Sun Bing, you haven’t forgotten, have you? Does your word mean nothing?”
    Sun grabbed his beard with both hands, looked up at the sky, and sighed. “All right, I shall pluck out these annoying threads!” With a violent tug, he jerked out a skein of whiskers and flung them to the ground; drops of blood fell from his chin. He grabbed another skein and was about to pull them out as well, when Sun Meiniang fell to her knees before the Magistrate. Her face, lovely as a peach blossom, could soften any heart. With tears in her eyes, she looked up and pleaded in a delicate voice:
    “Your Eminence, I beg you to pardon my dieh.”
    The Magistrate squinted, a look of amazement on his face, tinged with gladness and, even more obviously, emotion. His lips fluttered. It hardly seemed as if he spoke at all:
    “It’s you . . .”
    “Stand up, daughter.” Tears spurted from Sun Bing’s eyes. “I do not want you begging from anyone,” he said softly.
    Magistrate Qian, momentarily taken aback by this exchange, burst out laughing, and when he had finished, he said:
    “Do you think I really wanted Sun Bing to pluck out that beard of his? Even though he came in second best in today’s competition, a beard like his is rarely seen anywhere in the world. I would feel a sense of loss if he were to pluck it out. The goal of this competition was, first, to stamp out his arrogance, and, second, to supply this august assemblage with a bit of entertainment. Sun Bing, I forgive you your transgressions and spare you your beard. Now, go home and sing your operas!”
    Sun Bing fell to his knees and kowtowed.
    The commoners in attendance sighed with deep emotion.
    The local gentry drenched the Magistrate in flattering words.
    Sun Meiniang remained kneeling, looking into the face of the venerable Magistrate Qian with rapt concentration.
    “Daughter of the Sun family, you have proven your impartiality, and though you are a woman, you have the pluck of a man, a rarity in this world.” Magistrate Qian turned to his revenue clerk and said, “Reward her with an ounce of silver!”

C HAPTER S IX

Competing Feet
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    1
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    A clear and very bright moon hung high in the sky, looking like a naked beauty. The third-watch gong had just sounded, and the county town lay in stillness. Smells of nature—plants and trees and insects and fish—were carried on the summer-night breeze to cover heaven and earth like fine gauze decorated with pearl ornaments. The naked moon shone down on Sun Meiniang as she strolled alone in her courtyard. She too was naked; she and the moon enhanced each other’s beauty. Moonbeams flowed like water in which she swam like a large silvery fish. This was a fully bloomed flower, a piece of ripe fruit, a youthful, vigorous, and graceful body. From head to toe, with the exception of her feet—which were large and unbound—she was flawless. Her skin was glossy, the only blemish a scar on her head that was hidden by her lush hair.
    That scar was the result of a bite from a donkey before she had taken her first step as an infant. Unaware that her mother lay dead on the kang from swallowing opium, she had crawled up on her mother’s neatly dressed body, like climbing a resplendent mountain range. She was hungry, searching for the nipple, but in vain. She cried, and in the process she fell to the floor, where she cried even louder. No one came. So she crawled out the door, attracted by the smell of milk. No sooner had she reached the yard than she saw a young donkey drinking its mother’s milk. The ill-tempered adult had been tied to a tree by her owner, and when the little girl crawled up to feed alongside, or in place of, her baby, the donkey bit down on the girl’s head, gave her a shake, and flung her away, where she was immediately stained by her own blood. This time her terrified wails reached a neighbor woman, who picked her up and covered the wound with powdered lime to stop the bleeding. The injury was so severe that most people believed she would not survive. Even her normally buoyant father was sure she would die, but she hung on tenaciously. For the first fourteen years of her life, she was a scrawny, frail