When performing rites for the dead, skimping on the ceremony is not to be done — but Zhū Liu’s funeral was an exception.
Zhū Liu was a man who had made enemies of everyone. Not a single person among his clansmen mourned him. Hangers-on like Zhū Jiu had their own guilty consciences, and one of them had a hurt hand besides — they came only to take advantage of the free food and drink at the wake, and put no real effort into helping. Zhū Liu had also been fond of drink in life; who would find anything suspicious about a man coming to his end in the dark on a slippery road, impaled on a tree branch? The widows of the clan were practically applauding.
Zhang Xianggu was deeply ill at ease, but no one in the Zhū clan found anything to fault in her, and no one went out of their way to distinguish what hymn she was humming either.
In a rural household, there was no death report to file. Zhū Liu’s parents had died long ago, and with no one to look after things, the few coins that remained in the house were taken over by the clan elders to cover funeral expenses. Someone wrapped him up in an old set of his clothes and found a thin, worn-through coffin that let in light. The clansmen carried it to the burial ground and put him in the ground, then used the occasion as an excuse to gather and eat and drink together.
Zhang Xianggu finished her humming, gathered her loose hair back up, planted her hands on her hips, and cornered Zhū Jiu against the wall. She gave a cold smile: “Well, aren’t you the lucky one!”
Zhū Jiu had a guilty conscience, and secretly wondered: could she have cursed Sixth Brother to death? But he put on a smile: “Xianggu, Xianggu — big people don’t hold grudges against small ones!”
“Hmph! If I’d wanted to deal with you, you’d have been dead long ago!” Zhang Xianggu gave him a little fright, watched the color drain from his face, and then said: “I have a question for you. You’ll swear an oath — if you say one word of a lie, you’ll die the same death as this corpse!”
Zhū Jiu’s complexion grew more unsavory still. “Good Xianggu, ask away, ask away — I wouldn’t dare hold anything back.”
Zhang Xianggu said: “Zhū Liu told me my husband had been thrown in prison. Who put that nonsense in his head? My husband is perfectly fine! Who’s been cursing him?! Tell me, and I’ll settle accounts with that person alone — it won’t be anything to do with you!”
Zhū Jiu let out a relieved breath and jerked his chin: “Wasn’t it Sixth Brother himself? He made it up to frighten you, so he could take advantage…”
“Bah!” Zhang Xianggu spat and turned away. “Get out of my sight!”
Zhū Jiu felt as if he’d been granted a reprieve. He dashed off to the banquet table and knocked back three cups of liquor to steady his nerves. But Zhang Xianggu’s unease only deepened. Zhū Liu had been an utterly untrustworthy man, and yet she couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that gripped her.
As was customary, those who helped with the cooking and the spirit-women received an extra share of the food and drink. Zhang Xianggu didn’t compete for much — she just tucked the several hundred coins the Zhū family had given her into a satchel, secured it carefully on her back, then pulled Third to a quiet corner and said: “Let’s go home and eat separately — I don’t want to eat with them.” She had been thinking about her husband’s situation the whole time, and wanted to send Third into the city to make some discreet inquiries. These few hundred coins would cover the travel expenses.
Third nodded: “I’ve been to the city two or three times with Father, and I know the roads around the temple fair well — I know a few monks and Taoists, too. Food in the city won’t cost that much. Twenty or thirty coins should be enough for the round trip.”
The two were speaking quietly between themselves when the noise of the wake suddenly fell silent. Everyone at the tables under the tent put down their chopsticks. The two of them turned to look, and saw two women walking over directly. Zhang Xianggu patted Third’s arm and went forward to meet them, curtseying to the woman in the lead, a quietly elegant young matron. “Niangzi, wishing you all good fortune.”
Third recognized this young matron as Huajie, and gave her a nod. Huajie nodded slightly in return, curtseyed to Zhang Xianggu, and said with a trace of worry: “Xianggu, how do you do. I have a matter I’d like to ask your help with — would you be so good as to come sit with us at home?”
The tables erupted in noise. People were whispering among themselves. Zhang Xianggu answered at once: “Of course!”
Huajie said to the woman behind her: “Xiao Ya, help Xianggu carry her things and come to our house.”
Xiao Ya, who wore her hair in the loops of a serving maid, came to help Zhang Xianggu bundle up her set of bells and gongs into a cloth parcel and carry it on her back. The group made their way at a measured pace to the main Zhū house.
The moment they departed, the funeral banquet erupted into gossip. People murmured in low voices: “The young master of the main house must be in a bad way — if not, they’d be calling for a doctor, not a spirit-woman.” The women sighed over how the mistress of the household had a bitter life: widowed young, and now losing her son as well. Others said they thought it was Huajie who had a hard fate — her own husband-curse brought it on. Still others went on and on about how the mistress hadn’t only lost a husband but would lose a son too; those who argued back said Huajie had never even borne a child, which made her fate even harder.
None of these words reached the ears of those who had already walked away. Huajie and the others were each absorbed in their own thoughts, and in silence they arrived at the main house.
The “main house” was one of the finest residences in the whole village — one of the few in the village built of brick, a three-courtyard compound with only three proper family members, but two or three servants. Truly deserving of the name “main house.”
The mistress of the main house was naturally the madam herself. She had been widowed young, but fortunately had a son to anchor her, and had also taken in a child bride — Huajie — to be raised alongside him from a young age. She had barely gotten her son and daughter-in-law settled into married life for a few months before the son fell gravely ill, without having given her a grandchild.
Three or four doctors had been sent for from the county seat, and none had helped. Now she had called for Zhang Xianggu — probably a case of treating a dead horse as if it were still alive.
Zhang Xianggu turned things over in her mind, thinking that this time would not be easy to bluff her way through. A widow losing her son would surely vent all her anger on whoever was at hand. The madam was a woman alone, yet she had managed to hold onto this property and this standing in the village — that was because her family had some influence. Her relatives had served as minor functionaries in the county yamen for generations, and carried a certain weight. She was not someone to offend lightly.
Once they entered, Huajie personally pulled the door shut and said to Xiao Ya: “Put Xianggu’s ritual implements away properly, then wash your hands, boil some water, and brew tea for our guest.”
Xiao Ya acknowledged the instruction. Huajie then said to Zhang Xianggu: “Xianggu, please come inside.” She led both mother and daughter through to the east wing of the innermost courtyard.
Zhang Xianggu stepped inside and looked — the room held no one else, only the madam of the main house, and a figure lying on the bed with a white cloth covering the face.
The madam gave Huajie a nod. Huajie turned and shut the door again, closing all five people inside, sealed off from the world outside. Zhang Xianggu took in this scene and felt her heart go cold. That person on the bed was surely already dead. Two corpses in one day — Zhang Xianggu was beginning to feel as though she could not hold up. Third was also on edge, hand moving to rest on the short blade at the waist.
The madam rose slowly to her feet and said: “Xianggu, this child came into the world on your charm water all those years ago. Now that he has left it, I would not trouble a second person — I ask you again.”
Zhang Xianggu stumbled over her words: “Madam, Madam — this, I don’t know how to do this sort of thing…”
The madam walked slowly toward her. Zhang Xianggu couldn’t help retreating two steps; but the madam only took Huajie’s hand, and said to Zhang Xianggu: “This Huajie of mine — she has been raised in my household since she was small, as dear to me as my own daughter. I am willing today to draw up a formal contract and take your Third as a son-in-law, so that he may have this daughter and this household. When a child is born, I ask only that the firstborn take the surname Zhū, to continue the incense of my son’s line. What remains will be yours to do with as you like. I will put every last bone in my old body into it, and I will see my grandchild raised to adulthood.”
The words hit Zhang Xianggu like a thunderclap. She had seen plenty in her life, and she refused without hesitation: “How could this be right? What kind of family are we, and what kind of family are you? If you wanted a son-in-law, you could have your pick of any man you pleased — why settle for a child like this…”
The madam said, slowly, one word at a time: “Don’t pretend you don’t understand me. The two of us are widows with no man to rely on — if we don’t bring in a man, we’ll be devoured alive. Taking in another man from their clan would be walking a sheep into the wolf’s den. Of course we must take in someone from outside. I have thought it through — I am willing to cede some of the household property to their side as clan assets. What remains will be enough for us to live on. That is still better than you with no field and no land to your name. I would rather give it to Third than hand it over to those who have been scheming against me. What do you say?”
Nothing — no.
Zhang Xianggu shook her head vigorously: “I wouldn’t dare, I wouldn’t dare!” Third was a girl! How could she take a wife? And if a wife were taken, how could Huajie bear children?
Zhang Xianggu had raised Third as a boy out of necessity. Years ago, when the madam had come asking for her charm water, she had asked whether it was effective. Zhang Xianggu had been pregnant with Third at the time, and she had sworn up and down that it was — she herself was sure to deliver a boy. And the family was so poor that if a girl were born they’d have to drown her; the only way was to tell her husband the child was a boy, and so Third was kept alive by that deception. The husband’s previous son had unfortunately already died young, leaving no one to inherit the family trade of calling spirits and climbing heights. So there was only Third left, and Zhang Xianggu had taught her the spirit-medium arts, as a sort of “continuation of the family business.”
She had always called her daughter “Third,” never daring to use a name like “Third Sister” or “Third Maiden” the way people did, for fear that one careless moment would give everything away. Twelve years had passed now, and there was no good occasion to change things even if she’d wanted to.
Zhang Xianggu groaned inwardly.
But the madam went on: “Forgive me, Xianggu. Xianggu knows as well as I do what becomes of a widow with no backing — not only is the property lost, but one’s very life may be forfeit. I am fighting for my life right now!”
Zhang Xianggu was quick to say: “We won’t breathe a word of this, I assure you — we only ask…”
The madam shook her head: “Xianggu already knows what is in this room. There is no question of standing by and doing nothing. If you agree, we become family — Third becomes my son, I will arrange everything for him, I guarantee he will not want for anything, and he won’t have to suffer hardship. If he wishes to study, he may study — he won’t need to crouch under schoolroom windows listening, I will hire him a tutor. I have already sent word to my nephew to come and serve as a witness — Third will not be treated unjustly. If you refuse… then my son will have no choice but to be counted as someone Xianggu cursed to death. Consider — will they believe me, or will they believe you? When they are ready to swallow us two women alive, would they not be happy to trample over Xianggu as well? If I take one step back — I simply take this child and go to the county seat to seek refuge with my family, giving up everything here. They likely won’t hunt me down, but they’ll have to vent their anger on someone — and that someone will be Xianggu. Even in death, I will want a sacrifice beneath me. And when one is out of sorts, one naturally wants those who caused the trouble to suffer. What does Xianggu think?”