I

BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!

“Ugh, no rest for the wicked, I see,” Magistrate Xiang groaned. He sat up, still dazed and hazy. Xiang glanced over at the incense clock; Fifth Watch, he would have been up regardless in a couple of hours anyway. As he put his shoes on, Head Runner Yang entered his chambers:

“Excuse me, Magistrate—”

“What’s… the petition?” Xiang yawned and glared with beady, sleepy eyes.

“Attempted robbery on the highway.”

“Alright—muster the runners.”

After taking a swig of huangjiu rice wine and quickly eating a pear to cleanse his mouth, Xiang walked out into the courtroom and ascended the dais. The yamen runners beat their staves on the stone floor and chanted “Weiii-wuuu” to bring court into session. Xiang sat down and called for silence. Xiang then motioned for the petitioner, a man wearing blanched-white and red makeup and fine clothes, to come forward:

“State your claim.”

The petitioner approached the bench and kowtowed three times. He had the mien of a dan actor: soft, dainty, and deliberate. After bowing, he said “This insignificant person, Hong of Nanjing, petitions that on the road west to Lanzhou, three county road guards tried to rob my servant and me. They attempted to pry open a strongbox we were carrying—”

“Why are you petitioning my court and not the one you were robbed in—which was?”

“We were in Wushan County, Magistrate.”

“Indeed, so, why petition here in Li County? We’re not even on the western road.”

“The three road guards had an order that bore a magistrate’s chop ordering all persons on the road to stop for inspection.”

“Then the guards had lawful permission to stop people, did they not?” Xiang suspected that the Wushan County magistrate was up to something but wanted to keep this to himself. This wasn’t the first time Xiang heard about problems in Wushan. The petitioner replied:

“I cannot say—only that the guards tried to open the strongbox on our wagon.”

“What are you traveling for—hand me your road papers, actually—”

“They’re with the clerk, Magistrate—”

Xiang nodded. A clerk approached the bench to hand Hong’s road permit to Xiang, who read that Hong was a merchant traveling from Xi’an to Lanzhou as part of the Golden Touch countinghouse to provide silver for clearing silk trading transactions. This explained who Hong was, but not why he was here. Xiang handed the road permit back to the clerk, then continued:

“Why take the south road through Tianshui instead of going north through Pingliang?”

“The north road was rumored to be full of bandits, Magistrate.”

Xiang smirked to himself, given the irony. “What was in the strongbox? How did the guards find it?”

“Silver, Magistrate. We had it covered in our bedrolls and blankets, but they started moving things around in the wagon and using their pikes to search.”

“Why do you think the guards weren’t bandits?”

“They had… new… armor, Magistrate, and pikes are not common among bandits.”

“How can you tell the difference?”

“I was in the army.”

“In what capacity?”

“Assistant quartermaster.” This made sense to Xiang, as Hong was tall and thin. But it could also be Hong making up believable stories.

“When did this all happen?”

“Four days ago.”

Xiang’s eyes narrowed. He leaned forward, then asked, “Where did guards stop you?”

“At a toll on the Wei River in Wushan.”

“Why come all the way to Li County, fifty miles to the south, when Gangu County downriver would have been much closer to reach? Or Min?”

“Magistrate—I…”

“The penalty for bringing false claims is a hundred lashes with the bamboo.”

“Yes, Magistrate. In… events of unusual circumstance, I am under orders by my countinghouse to not make my travels obvious. Gangu County would have been the logical place for me to go with the wagon; if we were pursued, we would have been easy to find. Min would have been too far away, through the mountains.”

Xiang leaned back in his chair. That was too logical. He asked:

“How did you get away from the guards and stop the robbery? Do you travel armed?”

“I do, Magistrate, I have a broadsword. However, when two of them were trying to pry open the strongbox, I pushed them into each other. They fell over. I then jumped on the wagon and told my servant to drive. He horsewhipped the guard holding the reins, and we fled south.”

“Very well,” Xiang decided. “I am holding you under surety pending investigation. I’m remanding you to the city guild-house. You may not leave the city. Clerk Ling will issue you a copy of the judgment. Dismissed.”

Hong kowtowed again and Xiang went back to bed to get a few hours’ more sleep in.

II

After the morning court session, Xiang lit his pipe and reconsidered the Hong case. There were too many neat details. Hong carried a sword but “pushed” the guards to get away. He worked for a countinghouse but had been in the army. Hong came across like a Peking Opera actor who’d faint at the sight of blood, yet here he was, escaping from guards and thinking strategically about jurisdictions. Xiang summoned Yang to discuss the case. Yang asked:

“How would you like to approach this, Magistrate?”

“I’d like to keep this quiet. If Hong assaulted or killed road guards, that’s—”

“Grounds enough for his arrest and possibly execution.”

“Precisely, but when did yamen runners start issuing judgments?”

“Magistrates come and go but yamen runners are eternal.” Both laughed. Xiang said:

“I don’t want to be seen investigating this personally. If Magistrate Chen up in Wushan is ‘in the shit,’ then… Well, shit rolls downhill, as you know. We need to know three things: first, what happened to the guards? If they’re dead, I’ll hear about it soon enough. If they lived and the robbery failed, they’ll likely go underground. Second, were there any witnesses who could identify Hong and his servant? Third, is Hong’s ‘Golden Touch’ firm real and legitimate?”

“Understood.”

Before speaking to Yang, Xiang had debated whether to write a formal report to his superior, Prefect Bao. He decided against doing so because he wanted a fait accompli concerning Hong’s case. Moving too quickly would create its own problem: if he moved in the wrong direction, Xiang’s own head would get the ax. So, Xiang asked Yang:

“There’s two tollbooths in Wushan along the Wei River. Both tollbooths are where mountain streams meet the Wei, and the roads follow the streams. The eastern tollbooth leads here, obviously, but the second, western tollbooth has a road that could go either here or to Min County. Hong might have taken either. I could ask him which road he took, but then he’ll realize I’m digging around. Who do we have for yamen runners who weren’t ‘Brothers of the Green Wood’ before joining us?”

“That’s like asking how many women or boys in a brothel are virgins.”

“Humor me, regardless.”

“I think—two. There’s Liang, the farmer’s son. Then there’s Lu, he worked at a brewery.”

“Alright—send them with one other runner along each road. Two pairs of two. Have the innocent ones do the talking and the former bandits do the listening.”

“Wouldn’t people be suspicious because the ‘wise’ one isn’t saying much?”

“People enjoy talking to idiots more because it makes them feel better about themselves,” Xiang joked. They laughed. Xiang continued:

“Concerning ‘Golden Touch,’ I’ll write a letter to the Xi’an magisterial office and ask for confirmation about who Hong is and why he’s traveling. I’ll ask one of the local merchants about what they know, as well. Wine is a powerful way of extracting the truth.”

“Yes, Magistrate.”

“Understood?”

“Understood.”

III

“Ganbei!”

“Ganbei!”

Xiang and Liao, the local grain merchant, drank rounds of huangjiu in a tavern. While they drank together on previous occasions, normally Liao sent the invitation, not Xiang. Liao noticed this, and asked:

“Your beneficence graces us tonight. Has fortune blessed you?”

“The opposite, in fact. Instead of truth, I receive problems and questions. Recently, one of my cousins—a rice farmer—wrote to me about needing credit to cover the ‘spring shortage.’ I’m sure you’re familiar. He also would like to diversify his holdings; while rice pays, it does not pay… shall we say…”

“Well?”

“You understand my meaning—precisely.”

Liao rubbed his beard, then said “An illiquid rice farmer; what an ironic yet common occurrence. A crop that grows in water needing cash to thrive.”

“A droll observation! Ganbei!”

“Ganbei!”

“So,” Xiang continued, “my cousin asked me recently—ah, I forget what he wanted—oh, yes… I was wondering…”

“Yes?”

“Have you heard of a ‘Golden Touch’ countinghouse? He says a friend suggested he do business with them. My cousin is a simple man who trusts the word of friends and family.”

“I have; however, I regret to inform—”

“Please, let truth flow like wine among friends!”

“Yes—and thank you for calling me your… friend…” Liao was now feeling the strong warmth of wine and friendship. “What was I saying?”

“Golden Touch.”

“Ah. Yes. Yes, ‘Golden Touch’ does not handle… shall we say… ordinary business.”

“What do they do, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“They handle… only large transactions. Very quiet ones, actually. Nothing most people ever hear about. How did your cousin hear the name again?”

“I do not remember exactly, just that a friend told him about the firm.”

“If your cousin’s friend knows them, then—perhaps your cousin has wealthier friends than you do, as I’ve never had reason to do business with them.”

“Ah, do not discount yourself—you make excellent company! Ganbei!”

“Ganbei!”

IV

“Magistrate—why are you… soaking your feet and wearing a tea towel on your forehead?” Head Runner Yang asked in Xiang’s chambers.

“Hangover—headache—investigation. Grain merchants…”

Yang smirked, then walked closer, saying, “Magistrate Chen in Wushan issued a circular to all the neighboring counties—”

“Volume… headache!”

“I’ll just… leave the letter, then…”

“Table… on the table.”

Yang nodded, grinned, placed the letter on Xiang’s table, then left. Xiang eventually got up and read the letter. Three guards were found dead on the highway at a toll next to the Wei River. One had been stabbed in the kidney, another shot in the head, and a third ran over by a wagon. These had to be the guards who attempted to rob Hong, Xiang thought.

The shot guard was the oddest detail, however. Hong stated that he carried a sword, so stabbing made sense. Likewise, Hong’s servant must’ve run over the third guard with the wagon. But how could they shoot a guard dead with a matchlock? Unless Hong carried a foreign pistol…

Regardless, this wasn’t enough to act upon. This didn’t prove or disprove whether the guards acted lawfully or robbed people. For now, Xiang had to wait.

That night, Xiang had a dream. He was a novice scholar again, taking his provincial examination. He had no idea how to prepare for the questions. No fellow examinees he talked to knew where the questions came from, either. However, he passed the exam in the end.

A few days later, Xiang received a reply from Xi’an. They confirmed that a merchant named Hong of Nanjing left the western gate on the way to Lanzhou. However, they disclaimed any knowledge of what he was doing in Xi’an or the purpose of his travels. This was very odd: if he was simply carrying a wagon full of silver for clearing transactions, why not say that? That would have been perfectly legitimate. Xiang had to know more about Hong:

“Have we been keeping an eye on Hong?” Xiang asked Yang.

“We have.”

“Well, and? Don’t withhold secrets from your superior!”

Yang debated saying that he regularly withheld lots of secrets from Xiang, but, in true spirit, decided on the path of discretion. Instead, he explained:

“I believe he and his servant are a… how do I say this… couple.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think Hong is a ‘sworn elder brother’ and the servant is the ‘sworn younger brother.’”

“Oh. Didn’t the Jiajing Emperor ban… that?”

“Why are you asking me? I’m the head yamen runner.”

“How did we find this out?”

“They drink and hold hands together. I believe Hong must’ve been an actor at some point. I’m sure the Magistrate is aware of—”

Xiang nodded. Either way, whether their conduct was illegal or not, this information could be useful against Hong if needed. Xiang was looking into the distance when Yang asked:

“Do you want us to monitor Hong’s mail or watch him?”

“No need. The merchants will do that for us… Erm, there is one thing on my mind, however. Maybe you can explain.”

“Yes?”

“One of the Wushan road guards was shot in the head with a bullet.”

“Interesting.”

“Do you think Hong could have done that?”

“Him? No. We could search his room or wagon for gunpowder—that would be illegal for him to have as a civilian.”

“Do that, but discreetly.”

Searching the wagon found nothing new. Likewise, Hong’s room had no signs of gunpowder. If Hong had a pistol on him, Xiang thought, he kept it concealed on himself most times, which would only show up if he arrested and searched Hong. Thus, Xiang issued Hong a summons to appear in the yamen the next day to explain the dead road guards, why Xi’an refused to confirm anything, and his relationship with his servant. Xiang bet that Hong would be evasive, which would allow him to arrest Hong and conduct a search and interrogation. 

However, before the morning court session, Prefect Bao appeared for an unannounced inspection visit. Xiang assumed this was not going to be for tea and dim sum. Bao met Xiang at the yamen gate, then the two went to Xiang’s chambers. After long introductions and greetings, the two sat down. Indeed, while Xiang served tea to Bao, it was, in fact, not the point of the visit, as Prefect Bao explained:

“Magistrate Chen informed me that he arrested four of your yamen runners in his county. They were acting as bandits, traveling around the roads and robbing people. They were killed attempting to escape custody—”

Xiang smiled internally at this irony.

“—and he then reported the incident to me. Did you know of this?”

“I was aware of my runners being in Wushan—”

“Outside of your jurisdiction?”

“Yes—Prefect, may I show you something?”

“If it will shed light on this issue, then, yes.”

Xiang stood up and retrieved Hong’s case file. He then handed it to Bao. Bao nodded, then perused the contents and demanded an explanation.

“Prefect, this merchant—Hong—claims that three of Chen’s road guards tried to rob him. Hong came to my yamen, much out of the way, to report the attempted robbery. I sent my own runners out to investigate this. Now, they show up dead.”

“What did you find out about Hong?”

“Contradictions, Prefect. The man claims to be a merchant, but also that he was in the army. He was traveling outside of a merchant caravan with no guard but carrying a strongbox full of silver. He may also be—how do I put this delicately—”

“Spit it out, I don’t appreciate having to come here to sort out your problems!”

“—‘Involved’ with his servant. Not to mention that the three guards who may have tried to rob Hong turned up dead recently, one of which was shot in the head with a gun.”

“Then why did you not report this immediately? If another magistrate is engaging in corruption, that is a grave offence. Otherwise, you’re sitting on your hands despite having a murder case ready for trial. This was an error in your judgment.”

“My intention was to present you with a complete case. If anything, my runners being arrested and killed in Wushan is exactly the evidence I need.”

“For what?”

“Alleging that Magistrate Chen is misappropriating his office. Using his power to rob people on the roads. Cover up evidence, lie to you in reports, and so on.”

“Are you insane, man?”

“I—Prefect?”

“Is that all you can say for yourself?”

Xiang thought for a moment, then said, “Yes—no. No. Prefect, my notes in the case file are clear: I sent out my own yamen runners to investigate further. If they turned up dead—”

“You sent armed men out into another magistrate’s county to ‘investigate’ without supervision or notice and expect me to, what, see this as lawful conduct?”

Xiang remained silent. Bao glared at him. Bao then stood up and said: 

“I have no alternative but to remove you from office and place you under arrest.”

V

Despite the cell floor being stone and covered in straw, and thus painful to sleep on, Xiang had a dream during his first night in jail. In the dream, he woke up surrounded by taels of silver. When the dream ended and he saw the sun shining through the barred cell window, he thought, “Of all the stupid things to dream about—money, when I’m sitting here locked up…”

Xiang worried what would happen to him. Torture? Seizure of his property? Execution? Torture would probably happen regardless. The idea of thumb and ankle screws, red-hot pokers, whips, and staves had made him vomit from anxiety the day before. Today, he had nothing in his stomach. He began sweating, crying, and shaking in his cell. He felt overwhelmed; everything he worked towards in his life was now coming to a sharp end. He had overseen plenty of beheadings, many of which lacked an orderly conclusion. The only person to blame was himself, Xiang thought.

However, about an hour after he woke up, Xiang heard the jail door open. Instead of wailing prisoners entering the jail, there was laughter. Xiang rolled over to sit upright:

“Well,” Hong said as he stood in front of Xiang’s cell, “how did you sleep?”

Xiang stammered, “You?”

“Yes. Me. I know, the dan actor. No one suspects me, I’ve heard it plenty over the years.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m your savior.”

“—How?”

“I’m the witness who can speak on your behalf. Clear your name. Set you free.”

Xiang blinked in confusion, then sat with his back against the cell wall. He asked, “When is my trial?”

“There won’t be one.”

“What do you mean—oh hell, I’m just getting my head chopped off, aren’t I? This is all my fault…” Xiang held his head in his hands and cried silently.

Prefect Bao appeared in the jail corridor next to Hong. Bao and Hong began laughing. Once Xiang realized Bao was here, he stood up, and Bao explained:

“No need to cry, man, you’re not being executed. Though I certainly understand the feeling. Hong here is an agent of the Imperial Censor.”

Xiang stared in confusion. Hong continued, “Yes, I was investigating this part of the prefecture for judicial misconduct. Really, for a magistrate, you missed something so obvious. I even wrote a letter to Prefect Bao providing him an update—don’t you intercept people’s mail?”

Xiang gritted his teeth at being the butt of a joke, but what could he say? He knew Bao had to arrest him to prevent Chen from being tipped off about the investigation. This also got him, Xiang, out of the public eye. Bao elaborated:

“I received Hong’s letter first. Normally, yes, you should have reported this immediately. However, by not doing so, you allowed Hong’s investigation to continue uninterrupted. Thus, once Chen sent me a report saying he arrested and killed your yamen runners, I knew he was, in fact, up to something. So, Chen is under arrest himself and will be executed—”

“Soon, Prefect, don’t you think?” Hong joked.

“Probably. There’s also the question of divvying up Chen’s corruption money. Hong, do you think our friend here will get any?”

“Well, Prefect, he didn’t report the situation to you promptly… Do you want to reward such inaction?”

“Mm, one man’s inaction is another man’s prudence and discretion. Sometimes, doing nothing is the best course of action. Don’t you agree?”

“Of course, Prefect. Xiang also could’ve had me beaten up by the yamen runners. My ass appreciates not being smacked with staves or whipped with bamboo.”

“That settles that, then. Xiang can share in the bounty for arresting Chen, once we divide up his estate and so on. Courts don’t pay for themselves.”

Oh, the irony. This Prefect Bao often said how he was the twentieth-generation descendant of the incorruptible Lord Bao of the Song Dynasty. Now, here was Prefect Bao, collecting bounty money and dividing up an ill-gotten estate like highwaymen after a robbery. Xiang, his tongue tied in confusion, nodded and mumbled, “Thank—thank you, Prefect.”

Bao continued, “You’re being promoted, also. I obviously can’t reinstate you here, you’ve just been removed from office for dereliction of duty. How does Beijing sound?”

Xiang murmured, “Yes… Yes, Prefect, Beijing sounds lovely.”

“Excellent. We’ve noted all this down in your personnel file. ‘Subject responded to test in an above average manner.’ We’ll let you out of jail tomorrow—bag over your head, wrists bound, and so on. The food is horrendous, from what I hear. Enjoy the cell; I always found them to be excellent places of meditation!”