Читать книгу The Jade Temptress - Jeannie Lin - Страница 10

CHAPTER ONE

Tang Dynasty China, 848 A.D.

WU KAIFENG LOOKED over the property from the street. For years it had been abandoned, the remnants from a fire that had raged through the capital city of Changan. Parts of the damaged area had been rebuilt, but not this building. Apparently, the two-story structure had once been a teahouse, but now it was nothing more than a hollow shell located just beyond the edge of the bustling East Market. Undesirable.

Yet he had passed by that same location every day for the past week. Where others saw only a ruin, Kaifeng saw something else. He saw possibilities. With his position as head constable, he was earning a humble, yet steady wage. Maybe it was time to stop wandering. The dark corners and alleyways of Changan hid so many secrets; they could hide him, as well.

The market gong sounded the Hour of the Goat. The afternoon was upon him and it was time to return from his rounds. Kaifeng set a path through the East Market, but was stopped by a man charging through the crowd, his clothes stained with blood.

The stranger brandished a cleaver as he chased a lanky youth down the street. All of the surrounding market-goers stepped aside, but Kaifeng moved forward to block the street. The fellow at the front staggered to avoid crashing into him. His eyes grew wide as he stared up at Kaifeng’s considerable height, then the black cap and robe of his uniform, then at the sword in his belt.

This mixture of shock and fear wasn’t uncommon. Constable Wu needed no special effort to appear menacing. He supposed it was a gift, given his position.

“I didn’t do anything!” the youth protested.

Kaifeng flicked his gaze over to the armed man who had come to a stop. He gestured with his knife. “He’s a thief, Constable.”

The bloodstained garment was an apron. The weapon, a meat cleaver. It was the local butcher, not some madman.

The young man, who was looking more and more like a half-starved boy, started babbling. “I was just walking in the street. He started chasing me with that knife. Of course I ran.”

“He took money from my counter.”

“I was never in your shop!”

Kaifeng let the arguments fly without responding. He could drag both the accused thief and the butcher before Magistrate Li and let him settle the matter, but the line of petitioners at the tribunal had wound around the offices like a snake earlier that day.

“Empty your pouch,” he directed.

The butcher stood by, cleaver lowered but still gripped menacingly as the boy showed the pouch at his belt and his sleeves to be empty. Kaifeng was not yet satisfied.

“Shoes.”

The youth hesitated before reaching to take off his left shoe. There were two copper coins lying inside.

“To keep from thieves,” he said sheepishly. “I earned that money unloading wagons in the market.”

“Liar,” the butcher accused through his teeth. “Those were the same coins from my shop.”

Kaifeng regarded both of them without blinking. The matter seemed a simple one. The boy was acting guilty. He protested too quickly and too loudly. He’d hidden his money. He was fidgeting as he spoke and was unable to keep his gaze steady.

If taken before the magistrate, the money would be confiscated and returned to the butcher, the boy given a beating with the light rod and then the matter dismissed afterward. It wasn’t a constable’s duty to mete justice, but no one would fault him for resolving this dispute and sending the thief away with a public beating. It was only two copper coins, after all.

But Kaifeng knew that two coins could very well mean the difference between a full belly and an empty one. A warm night or a cold one.

The supposed thief was shifting about, now with only one shoe on, the other foot bare and unwashed, looking all the more guilty—or perhaps it wasn’t guilt at all. Merely fear.

“Pick up the money,” Kaifeng instructed. “And put your shoe back on.”

The butcher started to protest, but Kaifeng told him to lead them back to his shop. The youth didn’t attempt to flee and he walked head down between the butcher and the constable as they went down the lane. Bystanders watched the parade curiously, but none came forward to offer any further insight into the incident. Typical of the imperial city. One’s business was one’s own.

The copper smell of blood met them at the far end of the lane. They passed by vendors selling live chickens and fish in baskets along the avenue. The butcher’s shop was one of the largest in this section of the market, though it was hidden away in the corner. It was a wooden shack, open in front so that the various cuts and portions could be visible from the street.

An assistant, likely the butcher’s son, was still busy at work. The shop was full of customers looking to purchase the day’s meal. The long wooden cutting block that served as counter was stained dark and scored, and there was an assortment of freshly butchered cuts on display.

“I work back there,” the butcher said. “Customers drop their payment here onto the block and I push all the money into this basket.”

So no one would have to touch hands with him. Butchery was an unsavory, yet profitable trade.

“We were busy like we are now and this thief shoved through the crowd and grabbed the coins from the counter before I could stop him.”

“I’m not a thief,” the youth protested sullenly. He looked like a convict awaiting execution. His shoulders were sunken and his face resigned. Being accused was enough to be condemned and he had both age and status against him.

Where the butcher was well-fed and a successful tradesman, the accused was thin in the face, his chin smooth and his body not yet broadened into manhood. His clothes had been carefully mended many times. He claimed to have labored in the market to earn his coins, which would have meant he had been hard at work since daybreak to earn so much so early in the day.

Kaifeng could have spent the rest of the day questioning merchants to confirm his story, but it would have been no use. In the sprawl of the East Market were too many wagons, too many merchants and too many boys just like this.

“Bring two bowls of fresh water,” Kaifeng told the butcher.

The butcher stared at him, put out by being ordered about. A constable was far from an appointed official and ranked no higher than a tradesman. Kaifeng stared back, unwavering. The butcher finally set down his cleaver and disappeared into the back of the shop. He returned a moment later with two clay bowls and set them onto the counter.

Kaifeng turned to the youth who still had his coppers clutched in his hand. “Put your coins into the first bowl.”

The boy did as he was told. The butcher as well as the other customers watched as the coins sank to the bottom. Kaifeng then instructed the butcher to take a few coins from his basket and drop them into the second bowl. As the coins fell into the water, streaks of grease and blood shimmered over the surface. The water in the first bowl remained clear.

“The coins belong to him, or rather, they never belonged to you,” Kaifeng declared, then turned to leave the shop.

“But I saw him!” the butcher protested.

“Your earnings have remnants of grease and blood from being on the butcher block. His cash is free of any such residue.”

The youth stuffed his coins into his pouch. He spared Kaifeng a nod of gratitude as he rushed from shop and scurried away.

“You saw someone,” Kaifeng said to the butcher. “But it wasn’t this boy. If I find the thief, I’ll take him to the magistrate. In the meantime, keep a closer watch on your money. Your carelessness invites thievery.”

* * *

THE TWO GUARDSMEN at the front gate of the magistrate’s yamen stood aside as Kaifeng approached. Their spears remained at their sides as he entered.

The compound contained the offices of the many clerks and functionaries who served the head magistrate. At the center of the yamen was the tribunal hall where petitioners and criminals alike knelt before the magistrate to await judgment. At the back were the dismal holding cells where the accused stayed to await either a hearing or execution.

The sun hung low in the late afternoon, casting long shadows over the courtyard. The tribunal appeared to have convened early, which was unusual. In the imperial capital there was always some dispute that needed to be resolved, regardless of the time of day.

Kaifeng went to the head magistrate’s office, but found the door closed and the shutters drawn. He knocked twice before entering.

“I apologize for my late arrival,” he began.

Li Yen caught Kaifeng’s eye from behind his desk and held up his hand in an impatient gesture. Magistrate Li was not alone at his desk. An official wearing a state robe and a stern expression sat opposite him.

It was that elder official who broke the silence. “I trust you will take care of the matter, Magistrate.”

With that, the official rose and bowed. Li did the same; his bow dipping below his visitor’s to denote his lower rank. Kaifeng supposed he should have bowed, as well, but the official didn’t pause to accept any such gesture of civility. He spared Kaifeng a disapproving glance as he brushed past.

Li invited him to sit. “This is not good news, Wu. That was a representative from the Ministry of Personnel on an unofficial visit.”

Kaifeng regarded him unblinking. “Unofficial?”

“He suggested that you be dismissed.”

The news struck him like a blow to the gut. Not only was it unexpected, it was irrational. Kaifeng lowered himself into a chair as he tried to collect his thoughts. “I’ve performed my duties without fail.”

“I know you have, Wu.” Li rubbed a hand over his temples, looking even more youthful in his bewilderment. “You’ve been exceptional. He gave no reason for this demand, only that there were others of more notable rank that were in agreement.”

“Why would anyone of rank even know of me?”

“It seems we’ve angered someone.”

Kaifeng kept his tone even. “Then I am no longer employed?”

Less than an hour ago, he had been dreaming of laying down roots in the city. Before coming to Changan, he had been scraping together a coin here and there. Then Li had offered him the position as head constable. Kaifeng had thought he could make a new life here.

Magistrate Li regarded him for a long time. “Who have you offended, Wu?”

“No one that I know of.”

“Are you certain?”

“Criminals feel accosted when they’re caught,” he offered. His was a hated position, without doubt.

Li snorted, then folded his hands before him while his brow furrowed in thought. The magistrate’s features were often described as boyish, which was not a compliment for someone of authority. He was famous for not only passing the imperial exams at an early age, but passing in the third spot. Apparently among the elite this was a source of bitterness and envy as much as admiration.

“You did not answer the question, Magistrate,” Kaifeng interrupted. “Am I to be dismissed?”

“No, of course not.”

“I wouldn’t blame you if you did so.”

“Dismissing you would be the same as cutting off my own hand. I need you, Wu. More important, I owe you a debt.”

“You know that debt was settled long ago, sir.”

They rarely spoke of the incident that had first brought them together. They spoke no more of it now.

“What if this current demand is not to target you, but to attack me?” Li posed. “I certainly have more enemies than you do on my name alone.”

“There was the case with the slave trading ring last year,” Kaifeng suggested. “There were enough people involved for us to offend someone. A lot of dirtied hands.”

A murder had turned into two murders which had turned into a conspiracy.

“You may have something there, Constable. The case was resolved, but perhaps not to everyone’s satisfaction. Such political games are a consequence of living in the capital. Be careful, Wu. Someone wants both of us removed.”

Li Yen was a good read of people and situations, but only of the sort of people and situations he knew very intimately—those of the scholarly elite. Magistrate Li was at a loss when it came to commoners and life among the lanes and alleys. It made their partnership a balanced one. Apparently it took knowledge of politics and the street to survive in this city.