The Corpse Reader (46 page)

At the end of the passageway Cí could make out the figure of an aged man, accompanied by Kan. The two were chatting. The older man had a bunch of flowers. The man greeted his wife and
seemed pleased that their guest was already here, but when he came a little closer and looked properly at Cí, the flowers fell from his hands.

The old man was speechless. He simply stood and looked incredulous—as did Cí—while the servant hurried to pick up the flowers. Blue Iris stepped forward.

“Beloved husband, please allow me to introduce our guest, young Cí. Cí, may I introduce my husband, the honorable Judge Feng.”

Cí and Feng were paralyzed. When he recovered, Feng started to ask Cí something, but Cí wanted to speak first.

“Honorable Feng,” he bowed.

“What are you doing here?” asked Feng.

“You know each other?” Kan was surprised.

“A little,” said Cí hurriedly. “My father used to work for Judge Feng.” He could tell Feng was struggling to understand what was going on.

“Very good!” said Kan. “That should make everything a little easier. Cí is helping me with some reports on the Jin. I thought your wife’s experiences might be useful to us.”

“And I’m sure you thought right! But let us sit and celebrate,” said Feng, still clearly confused. “Cí, I thought you were still in your village. How is your father? What brings you to Lin’an?”

Cí hung his head. He didn’t want to talk about his father. Really, he didn’t want to talk at all. He was overwhelmed with shame—and now not only at the possibility of bringing dishonor on Feng, but also at the fact he’d felt desire for his old master’s wife. But there was no way of avoiding the conversation now.

“My father died. The house burned down. Everyone died…I came to Lin’an thinking I would take the exams.” Again he looked down.

“Your father, dead! But why didn’t you come to see me?” he said, and asked Blue Iris to serve more tea.

“It’s a long story,” said Cí, trying to make it clear he didn’t want to talk about it.

“Well, let’s put things right,” said Feng. “Of course, when he mentioned this I didn’t know it was
you
, but Kan told me you’re staying at the palace. Now that you have business with my wife, I propose that you move here, with us. If Kan has no objections, of course.”

“On the contrary,” said Kan. “An excellent idea!”

Cí wanted to refuse. Gray Fox would be back any day now, and with him the knowledge of Cí’s fugitive status. But Feng was very insistent.

“You’ll come around. Blue Iris is an excellent hostess, and we’ll have a chance to remember old times. You’ll be happy here.”

“Really, I’d rather not trouble you. I’ve got all my books, all my belongings over there—”

“Pish! Your father would never forgive me, nor I myself, if I let you leave. We’ll have your effects transferred here immediately.”

They went on chatting, but Cí wasn’t listening. He gazed at Feng’s much older face and felt sick at the thought of staying under the same roof as this great man. He breathed a sigh of relief when Kan got up and asked Cí to accompany him back to the palace. Feng and Blue Iris showed them to the door.

“See you soon!” said Feng.

Cí replied in kind, but was secretly praying it would be more like never.

On their way back to the palace, Kan was overjoyed with the fortuitousness of it all.

“Don’t you get it?” he said, rubbing his hands. “Now you’ll have the chance to uncover Blue Iris’s secrets. You can investigate without seeming to, and it will be much more straightforward to follow that Mongol, too!”

“With all respect, councilor, it’s against the law for an investigator to live in a suspect’s home.”

“Against the law!” spat Kan. “That law is only there to protect investigators against corruption. But if the suspects don’t know they’re under investigation, how could they ever corrupt you? Plus there’s the fact you aren’t a judge.”

“Apologies. I’m happy to carry the investigation forward, but I won’t stay in that woman’s home.”

“What are you on about? This is a unique opportunity! We couldn’t have planned it any better!”

Kan’s predatory attitude only hardened Cí’s resolve. He was unwilling to betray Feng’s confidence, he said, and pointed out that Feng and his father had been friends.

“So you’re willing to let that woman ruin him?” said Kan. “Her treachery will come out sooner or later. And it will destroy him.”

“If you’re so worried about Feng, why don’t you just arrest Blue Iris?”

“You fool!” Kan’s good humor vanished. “Haven’t I already said we need her accomplices, too? Take her now, and they’d disappear before we could torture their names out of her. And there’s far more than some old man’s honor at stake here; we’re playing for the emperor’s very future.”

Cí thought hard about what to say next.

“Do as you please, but I can’t comply with this,” he said firmly. “I won’t put the emperor’s future before that of Judge Feng.”

Cí felt pierced by Kan’s glare. The councilor said nothing, but at that moment Cí felt a new and unknown terror arise.

Going back to his room, Cí realized he didn’t know what he could do other than flee. If he hurried, he could still manage it. Since he’d told Kan he wouldn’t move to Feng’s, he needed an excuse so that Bo would accompany him beyond the palace walls. Once they were outside, he’d find a way to slip off and would escape Lin’an forever. He called a servant to go and fetch Bo.

As he packed, regrets rained down; he knew he’d never have another opportunity like this, and he’d come so close to achieving his dreams. His thoughts shifted to his family and he thought of his father and Third, too. He wanted so much to become a judge—to prove to the world that there were ways to uphold the truth. It was all a lost cause now.

When he heard Bo at the door, he put his melancholy aside and grabbed a small case for his notebooks. He told Bo he needed to go back to the bronze workshop, and Bo seemed not to suspect a thing. They left the palace precinct and made their way to the first of the walls, where they were halted by a sentry. Cí gritted his teeth while Bo showed their seals of passage. The sentry took his time looking over the documents and then looked Cí up and down—excruciatingly slowly, it felt like to Cí. The man let them pass. At the next post, Bo took out the documents again. The sentry looked at Cí oddly. Cí began chewing his lip. It was the first time while accompanied by Bo that there had been any delay at the checkpoints. He waited, trying to stay calm. After a short while the sentry handed Bo’s documents to him, but when Cí reached to take his own documents from the sentry’s outstretched hand, the man wouldn’t let go.

“They have the Councilor for Punishment’s signature on them,” said Cí angrily.

“Follow me to the tower,” the sentry ordered Cí.

Cí did as the man said. On entering, he was surprised to find Kan waiting for him there. The councilor stood, took the documents, and crumpled them up.

“Where were you off to then?” said Kan disdainfully.

“The bronze maker’s workshop,” said Cí, heart pounding. “There were some clues I needed to follow up on. Bo’s coming with me.”

Kan arched an eyebrow. “What kind of clues?”

“Um…clues,” stuttered Cí.

“Maybe, maybe! Or, maybe, as I suspect, you’re toying with the foolish idea of making your getaway.” He paused and smiled. “And in case I’m right, I thought it might be worth mentioning that it would be very rude on your part if you were to go without saying good-bye to your master, Ming. He’s in the dungeon. Under arrest. And that’s where he’ll stay until you decide to obey me and take a room in Feng’s pavilion.

Cí was consumed with rage when he saw the state in which Ming was being kept. The old man was lying on a broken wicker bed. His face was impassive and his gaze distant. When he saw Cí come in, he tried to get up but was completely unable; his legs were bloody and bruised. When he spoke, Cí saw that his teeth had been bashed in, leaving a gory mess.

“They beat me…” Ming managed to say.

Cí could see he had no choice. He told Kan he’d go to Feng’s, and he demanded that Ming be attended to and transferred to a better cell.

Several servants helped Cí take his belongings to the Water Lily Pavilion. When they’d left, Cí stood astonished by the loveliness of his new quarters, a large room overlooking the lemon grove. Putting his things down, he went to his appointment with Feng, who was brimming with satisfaction at the turn of events. Cí bowed, but Feng took him in his arms and hugged him.

“Boy!” he exclaimed, ruffling Cí’s hair enthusiastically. “I’m so happy you’ve joined us!”

Once they were sitting and drinking a delicious black tea, Feng asked Cí to tell him about his father’s death. Cí told him the story and went on to outline his difficulties in Lin’an, the dealings with the fortune-teller, Third’s tragic death, his entrance into Ming Academy, and his later arrival at the palace. He told Feng everything apart from the circumstances that had brought him to this present juncture.

Feng could hardly believe all the things that had happened to Cí.

“All these hardships…I just can’t understand why you didn’t try to find me.”

“I tried…” Cí thought about admitting to being a fugitive. “Sir, I really shouldn’t be here with you. I’m not fit to share—”