Zheng Xi and Sheng Ying shared the same view of the farce inside the prefect’s yamen: it could not be ignored, but it must not be managed too heavily.

Together they persuaded Zhong Yi to leave. Zheng Xi chose his words with great care: “This child may well be lacking in propriety, yet it stems from a heart full of filial devotion, and at this moment it would be unwise to stir up further trouble. If you are willing, we might settle the affairs here concerning this child’s father and then return to the capital together. Should His Majesty ask about any of this, I will report everything I have witnessed truthfully, so that Elder Uncle suffers no unjust blame. What do you say?”

Zhong Yi naturally found the whole affair thoroughly disagreeable. Even on his own, seeing through the aftermath would have been no easy thing; now there was Zheng Xi on top of it all. That this man chose not to take advantage of the situation when he could was itself a debt Zhong Yi owed him — asking him to help cover things up and cast further blame would be a debt far too great to bear. There was nothing for it but to accept the way out that had been offered.

He was indeed a decisive man. He told himself: So be it! What does it matter if I go back to the capital, report my shortcomings, and lie low for a few years?

Zhong Yi accepted Zheng Xi’s counsel. Zhou You still felt aggrieved — the prefect had clearly died by his own doing, so how was Zhong Yi involved? But Sheng Ying held him back and murmured, “The dead are to be honored. Making a scene would damage Lord Zhong’s reputation. If you don’t believe me, go ask Lord Zhong himself.”

The two of them then also comforted the prefect’s son: see to your father’s funeral properly first; they would not pursue the matter of a son frightening his own father to death. With both parties settled down, they called over those in the yamen still capable of performing duties, assigned someone to assist in handling the affairs surrounding the prefect and his wife — the couple to be laid out in state for a few days — and instructed the boy to take the servants and escort the coffins back to the family’s hometown for burial. They issued a letter of passage so that the official courier stations along the route would receive and accommodate the funeral procession.

With all that handled, the two immediately wrote a memorial, reporting the details of the case and their account of the prefect’s death truthfully, stating that they would escort the suspects and the physical evidence back to the capital within a few days. Since the suspects had been tortured before their arrival and their injuries were somewhat severe, and there was concern the prisoners might die on the road, there would first be a short delay.

Once the memorial had been sent by fast horse, the neighborhood heads and block heads of the city were already crowding the front hall.

Master Huang quietly stifled a yawn and stole a glance at Censor Zheng and Censor Sheng. Both men’s eyes were slightly reddened from the sleepless night, yet both were animated and sharp — he had no choice but to keep up his attendance alongside them. He asked, “There are quite a few people. Shall we call them in in groups, or address them all together?”

Zheng Xi said, “Let’s speak to them all at once. You’ve all been up through the night with us — the sooner I give the instructions, the sooner they can go off to handle things, and the sooner you can all get some rest.” He and Sheng Ying moved to the front hall and put forward two questions —

A young, fair-skinned peddler, and a man named Xu Youfang who had lived here twenty years ago.

Zheng Xi offered a reward: “Anyone with a lead will certainly be rewarded. I will be departing for the capital shortly. If someone is found before I set off, each piece of information earns a reward of fifty strings of cash — and the sooner it is reported, the greater the reward. Once I have set off with no news, there is no need to report further.”

That was a staggering sum! And it was merely the starting price — report sooner, earn more!

Everyone’s heart stirred.

Among them, Xu Jia’s heart nearly leapt from his chest. With a trembling voice he said, “But — what if we make a mistake? Are there any clearer identifying features?”

More detailed information was scarce. All that was known of the peddler was that the two boxes on his carrying poles did not match each other, and that Xu Youfang had a daughter who would be around twenty years old this year.

At that, someone in the crowd said, “I seem to have heard the surname Xu somewhere, but I’m not certain — it was a good many years ago. Allow this humble person to go back and verify.”

Zheng Xi said, “You may.”

Xu Jia had originally been about to jump forward on the spot, but hearing this, he thought: let me go and have another look to be sure it’s him. They probably haven’t run yet!

The crowd dispersed in a clamor. Zheng Xi said to Master Huang, “We are going to our lodging house to rest. Let them attend to the business. You rest too. If there is news, don’t wait — just come and report it.”

Master Huang was thoroughly delighted with him at this point! He agreed with great eagerness.

Zheng Xi and Sheng Ying went to the rear quarters and burned a stick of incense before retiring to the lodging house that had been prepared for them. Since the best accommodation outside the yamen had previously been arranged for Zhong Yi, Chen Meng then offered to have them stay at his own home. Both Zheng Xi and Sheng Ying said, “There is no need.” Sheng Ying had been dispatched by the Emperor as an expression of the Emperor’s consideration, but for the purposes of the case, it was still necessary to avoid any appearance of conflict of interest.

The two arrived at another lodging house that Master Huang and the others had done their utmost to prepare. Master Huang accompanied them and said, “It is rather cramped — I hope you will forgive us.” In truth the furnishings inside were in no way inferior to elsewhere.

Both Zheng Xi and Sheng Ying had brought their own attendants with them, yet they did not refuse the servants that Master Huang’s people had arranged either — they simply asked that no one make noise, as they needed to rest. Compared with Zhong Yi, these two were so much easier to serve! Having kept vigil through a whole night, Master Huang felt weightless and at ease; he found himself a duty room at the lodging house and fell asleep there.

As for Zheng Xi and Sheng Ying, exhausted and weary, the moment their heads touched the pillow they were asleep. It seemed they had barely lain down when someone came quietly to report, “There is a lead.”

——

As it happened, money emboldens a man. Xu Jia had thought it through from every angle. The imperial envoy judged cases with a clear head and was evidently not a malicious person, while the peddler’s family — what with the fake blindness and the official proceedings — were clearly no upstanding citizens themselves. He talked himself into it: if he could confirm it, he would go quietly and tell the envoy, whether he was certain or not.

Xu Jia first went home, took an old set of his own clothes, and carried them under his arm to the rented room.

At that moment, the interior of the small room presented quite a different scene.

Zhang Xiangu had seen to Zhū Shenhan properly. With new injuries layered over old, it was not convenient for him to be moved. Zhang Xiangu had washed his hair, wiped him down, applied the medicine, and put him on the bed lying face-down, then went to the kitchen in the back to prepare food. Zhù Ying had already roughly repaired the broken door plank — making it somewhat more even and square — then taken it to the doorway, scrubbed it clean with fresh water, and set it against the wall to dry in the air, intending to use it that evening laid across a table and stools to make a simple sleeping plank.

With the new bed plank drying outside, Zhù Ying went out again and bought a chicken, some milled rice, eggs, and white flour, and then fetched a small earthenware pot. When she came back she handed the chicken to Zhang Xiangu to stew, to build up Zhū Shenhan’s strength. She herself set the earthenware pot to one side and said, “Boiling medicine takes a small stove — I don’t think it would be too hard; I’ll build one myself.”

Zhang Xiangu looked at Zhū Shenhan’s condition and felt genuinely sorry for him, though she was not about to show it, and said curtly, “Give me the chicken. For now tie it up over there. I just put the leftover meat bones from yesterday on to stew — eat those tomorrow. We’ll have the chicken after that.”

Zhū Shenhan mumbled from where he lay, “I’m not some delicate soul — as long as there’s something to eat, I’m fine. As long as it’s not gone off! There was grit in the prison food and I ate it all the same.” He had truly had a rough time of it. The medicine went on, and without even waiting for the meat bones to finish cooking he drifted off to sleep.

Zhù Ying went to build the small stove for boiling medicine. Zhang Xiangu continued making the meal. Xu Jia knocked perfunctorily at the door. Zhù Ying’s hands were covered in mud, so Zhang Xiangu wiped her hands on her apron and went to ask, “Who is it?”

Xu Jia said, “I saw your eldest earlier — his clothes got burned. I went home and found a set of my own old ones. Don’t mind that they’re worn.”

Zhang Xiangu’s manner immediately softened. “Oh my, thank you so much!”

Xu Jia asked, “How bad are the injuries? Is he doing all right? If things take a turn for the worse, you’d best let me know ahead of time.”

Zhang Xiangu’s face flipped over: “What sort of thing is that to say? We are perfectly well!”

Xu Jia pretended to be embarrassed by the scolding, turning his face away — and in doing so, caught sight of the carrying pole leaning against the wall. That’s it. A peddler. Traveling with an old mother. Twelve or thirteen years old. Fair-skinned. The boxes on the two sides of the pole don’t match each other. This is the one! Even if there was some chance he had the wrong person, the envoy was such a reasonable man — even if it was a mistake, he ought to be able to earn a little something for his trouble. Enough for a new set of clothes wouldn’t be a problem!

He set the clothes down and made off at a run.

Zhù Ying was working in the back and didn’t notice any strangeness in Xu Jia’s manner; she didn’t give Xu Jia much thought anyway. Unpleasant words — she had heard plenty of those before. Worrying that Zhū Shenhan might die in this room wasn’t even among the worst of them. As things stood now, with her father clear of any charges, everything else could be managed. She only had to wait until her father’s injuries had healed a little before finding a new place and starting over. After everything that had happened, she had come to think that first setting herself up as a small peddler and saving up some capital was not a bad idea at all — no need to rely on the charlatan trade to make a living. As for Zheng Xi — given this morning’s commotion with the yamen prefect’s son, he had plenty to keep him busy! Even if he wanted to find her, even if he had the heart for it, he would not be able to free his hands.

The small stove for boiling medicine was finished. She lit a small bundle of thin kindling and found it worked reasonably well; she washed her hands first, cleaned the earthenware pot, put two handfuls of rice in it, ladled in two scoops of water, and left it to cook slowly in the back. Zhang Xiangu’s stew of meat bones was also ready, and she added a great deal of vegetables to it. Zhù Ying then glanced at the earthenware pot and thought to herself: there was still rice left — more than enough.

Zhang Xiangu took out three bowls and set them on the stovetop ledge: one she filled with a large serving of meat bones and a ladle of broth; one she filled entirely with vegetables; and into the third she put vegetables and then added two bone-in pieces with meat. She carried the latter two bowls out to the table in the front room and said to Zhù Ying, “Let that pot keep simmering on its own. Come and eat!”

Then she picked up the bowl heaped with meat bones and brought it to the bedside, calling to Zhū Shenhan, “Get up and eat!”

Zhù Ying picked up her bowl and slurped a mouthful of broth. Zhang Xiangu’s cooking was what it was — nothing like the skill of Auntie Xu, the cook at the yamen — but Zhù Ying had never been particular, and thought the meat broth tasted fresh and savory. She transferred one bone piece to the other bowl, then picked up the bowl and walked toward the door; the room was not very bright, and the doorway was more open and airy.

She had not yet crouched down when she heard a clatter of hoofbeats. Zhù Ying looked over, and her expression shifted sharply!

The square one and the rectangular one!

——

When Jin Liang was shaken awake, he had been in the middle of a perfectly satisfying snore. He was of a military background and could endure hardship, yet being shaken awake in the middle of deep sleep still left him with a temper. Except that Zheng Xi had already risen, which meant he could only suppress his irritation at being woken and say, “Seventh Young Master, you go back to sleep. I’ll go and have a look! I’ve seen that boy before myself!”

He had originally been a family servant of the Zheng household, cultivated by Zheng Xi’s father, Marquis Zheng, who had followed the Marquis on military campaigns. The Marquis was also a generous man and, seeing Jin Liang’s loyalty and reliability, had simply freed him from his servant status and helped him obtain a military post. Even so, Jin Liang had not gone off to establish his own household; he still considered himself one of the Zheng family’s people. When Zheng Xi set out from the capital to handle this case and needed capable hands, Jin Liang had petitioned Marquis Zheng and made it onto the list of attendants accompanying him.

How could he let Seventh Young Master go personally to confirm the identity of some little peddler on insufficient sleep? He must go himself and let Zheng Xi rest properly!

If it was the peddler, this boy would have no choice but to obediently follow Seventh Young Master. If it was not the peddler — Jin Liang’s sleep-reddened eyes shot a glare at Xu Jia.

Xu Jia had no idea that matters varied in urgency and people varied in standing. If it had been news of Sheng Ying’s niece, you could shout it right beside the man’s pillow and Sheng Ying himself would not be angry. This little peddler, however, was clearly not of that caliber. Zheng Xi’s “just come and report” had contained an element of polite convention. But Xu Jia could not tell the difference; even guessing would not have penetrated the full picture. If Master Huang had been handling this, he would likely have first sent someone to keep a quiet eye on Zhù Ying’s family — or simply detain them locally — and wait until Zheng Xi and his attendants had slept their fill before going to confirm the identity. But Master Huang had also gone to sleep, and Xu Jia had been entirely focused on reporting for a reward, not even bothering to consult Master Huang. By the time Master Huang learned of it, Xu Jia had already been before Jin Liang — and before Zheng Xi himself.

Zheng Xi said only one thing: “The way you went about it was improper. You must not antagonize him.”

Jin Liang came in a murderous mood to verify the peddler’s identity, with Xu Jia racing along behind, nearly out of breath trying to keep up. Jin Liang did restrain the horse’s speed, not running at full gallop; when he reached Zhù Ying he reined in with ease, bared his teeth, and said, “Boy — what’s your answer?”

Inside, Zhang Xiangu had seen Zhù Ying standing still at the doorway and came out to ask, “Why are you standing there like that? Come in and eat —”

Jin Liang bared his teeth at her too.

Zhang Xiangu let out an exclamation: “Aren’t you the one whose money purse got stolen? Our Sanlang was the one who helped get it back! The tea stall! You’ve forgotten? How did you find us here? Come in and have some water?”

Xu Jia, arriving late from his run, came just in time to hear Zhang Xiangu’s words, and thought to himself: so the envoy is repaying a kindness? Oh my — I wasn’t too rude to them before, was I? It’s fine — I even gave them a set of old clothes, and I rented to them cheaply!

Zhù Ying gave Xu Jia a single glance and returned her full attention to Jin Liang. “What is it?”

Jin Liang jumped down from his horse, looked Zhù Ying up and down, then looked at the food in her bowl, and said, “This is all you have to eat?”

Zhù Ying nodded. Zhang Xiangu became wary. “And who are you?” In Zhang Xiangu’s mind, anyone who used food to coax a young girl was up to no good. Even though she was always reminding her daughter “you are a boy,” in her heart she knew perfectly well that what she had given birth to was a daughter; however convincingly her daughter played the part of a boy, she was every bit a girl in truth, and subject to every harm a girl could face.

Xu Jia quickly said, “This gentleman is an attendant of the imperial envoy — the newly arrived one! It was that imperial envoy who released your man of the house!”

Jin Liang asked, “What man of the house? What release?” How did this peddler’s family have a man of the house? That didn’t seem right at all!

Zhang Xiangu was astonished. “What? They said he’d already been released — is there something else wrong? What could that old ghost know about anything? If he truly had any power to curse people, could we be this poor? Could we be pushed around like this?”

That was the plain truth of the matter. Although the husband and wife — one a male charlatan and one a female charlatan — were both in the trade, between the two of them they didn’t possess half a measure of genuine power; they scraped by through trickery and sleight of hand, and their combined skill added up to less than that of their own daughter, Zhù Ying, who had taught herself everything she knew.

Xu Jia quickly told the story: today he had seen this mother and daughter pushing a half-beaten man home on a flatbed cart, and he was certain — this was someone who had been dragged away from the yamen entrance; this was one of the local charlatans from the case where witchcraft had turned out to be grave-robbing.

Jin Liang’s impatience vanished in an instant. He said simply, “So you were doing all this to save your father.” Every strange and inexplicable thing the peddler had done now made perfect sense: going to the burial ground, refusing to give a name, feigning madness, refusing to become Zheng Xi’s attendant, and running away!

This was filial devotion. The world held filial sons in high regard, especially a child of ten or so. Jin Liang too felt that Zheng Xi’s intention to take this filial son on had been a good idea. His expression shifted without him noticing — from the barely-concealed ferocity of forced composure to genuine warmth.

Jin Liang became courteous toward Zhang Xiangu as well, saying, “I have encountered Sanlang before. Our master feels that this child is exceptional and wishes to take him on as an attendant. Are you willing?”

Zhang Xiangu, of course, was not willing! Her daughter! To serve as an attendant for some man? To what end? Even if the man were an imperial envoy — if he wanted her daughter, he would have to wait until her daughter had properly resumed her female identity and obtained a female household registration before there could be any discussion. A girl couldn’t just go and serve someone in an ambiguous arrangement like this!

After the events at the yamen, Zhang Xiangu had become deeply averse to dealings with official households. Even working a short-term job had resulted in her daughter being handed over to someone else; an attendant position? That would be as good as dead with no one even to complain on her behalf.

Zhang Xiangu shook her head. “Thank you for the honor, but we are simple people of low station — this one child is all we have, and we won’t be separated from her no matter where we go.”

Jin Liang saw there was no reasoning with her, and turned to Zhù Ying. “Sanlang?”

Zhù Ying asked calmly, “Am I currently a suspect’s family member?”

Jin Liang said, “You should… not be, anymore?”

Zhù Ying said, “Oh.”

Jin Liang, seeing how impervious both mother and daughter were to persuasion, thought of Zheng Xi’s plans, and then thought of the local charlatan still lying inside. He felt around on himself and found he had left in such a hurry that he had brought neither medicine nor his money pouch. He said, “Stay put and don’t worry — I’ll be back shortly!”

And he promptly hauled away Xu Jia.

Zhang Xiangu was a little anxious and asked Zhù Ying, “What do we do now?”

Zhù Ying said, “Let’s first check on Father’s injuries.”

——

The two of them went to the bedside. Zhū Shenhan was still lying there asleep. Zhang Xiangu called out, “Wake up!” Zhū Shenhan stirred twice but did not get up.

Zhang Xiangu saw that something was wrong, set her bowl aside, and pressed her hand to Zhū Shenhan’s forehead. Sure enough — a fever. She muttered under her breath and pushed hard to wake him. “Hurry — eat something. The medicine will be ready soon, and you can’t take it on an empty stomach. You wretched thing — you were fine in the dungeon, you were fine through the beating, and now that you’re back and cleaned up with food to eat, you go and fall ill.”

Zhù Ying examined Zhū Shenhan’s back. The strokes hadn’t been applied with deliberate viciousness, but they were far from light, and new injuries on top of old — making him travel now, without a comfortable carriage or sedan chair, would be sending him to his death. She would have to wait.

Zhū Shenhan grinned through his pain. “It’s nothing — just loosening up my muscles.”

He forced himself to half push up. His injuries made getting out of bed inconvenient; he draped Xu Jia’s old clothes over his shoulders, pulled the quilt on top of those, and lay on his side while Zhang Xiangu fed him.

After a couple of mouthfuls he revived a little, and Zhang Xiangu said, “Eat a bit more. I’ll boil the medicine in a moment; drink it and you’ll be well.” She was frantic with worry inside, but her husband in this state was not fit to hear about what had just happened. Zhū Shenhan finished eating in a daze and sank back into a deep sleep.

Zhang Xiangu opened her mouth, wanting to say something to her husband, and stopped herself. She wanted to say something to her daughter, and stopped herself again.

Zhù Ying appeared calm. She went and finished the vegetables in her bowl, drank up all the broth. Then she went and ladled out a bowl of the rice porridge that had been cooking in the earthenware pot, drank that too, then poured the rest into the empty bowl, washed the pot, and began boiling the medicine. Zhang Xiangu sat in a daze for a while before going to finish her half-cold vegetable broth, hitting a bone and startling slightly, glancing back at her daughter, then silently drinking up both the vegetable broth and the porridge and going to wash the bowls.

Neither mother nor daughter spoke. Zhū Shenhan’s breathing was deep and heavy.

As the sun moved west, the medicine was ready. Working together, they managed to get it down Zhū Shenhan’s throat; he still seemed somewhat confused.

Zhù Ying said, “The medicine is down. If he is still feverish by morning, we will need to send for a physician.” At the mention of a physician, Zhang Xiangu’s first thought was, “How much will that cost?”

Zhù Ying said, “We have enough for one visit. It’s a shame — if I had known it would come to this, I wouldn’t have bothered stocking up the goods. Right now, the only way to have money is to sell the goods… it doesn’t matter, I’ll think of something.”

“Don’t you dare do anything that —”

“I know.”

Neither spoke again. Zhang Xiangu was at her wit’s end with worry and finally said, “Write me a banner. I’ll go out and tell fortunes for people again.”

Zhù Ying said, “Father needs someone to look after him.”

Silence descended again.

Zhù Ying thought for a moment, then picked up the new tools and sat at the doorway, slowly fashioning hairpins. A few scraps of wood cost nothing; a little work from her hands and they could sell for a few coins — that was still money. The thin strips of wood took on the shape of hairpins under her hands, and her heart gradually grew calmer as she turned the small abacus in her mind.

No charges hanging over them meant freedom of movement. She still had a little money on hand — enough to hold things together for a while; in that time she could turn a bit of goods and accumulate enough to get by. As long as Zhū Shenhan recovered, the family of three would manage one way or another. The only thing to deal with was the imperial envoy in front of her now.

She estimated that the envoy’s interest in her was not great, and he would not drag all three of them away. Most likely Seventh Young Master Zheng was interested in her appearance at the burial ground and other such things. If he truly wanted to work it all out, she would tell him everything he wanted to know; once his curiosity was satisfied, Seventh Young Master Zheng should stop pressing.

Of course, if he tried to forcibly take her away, that was another matter — she would think of escape when the time came.

With her mind made up, a faint smile came to the corner of Zhù Ying’s mouth. And then she heard the sound of hoofbeats again.

She looked up. Seventh Young Master Zheng had come in person.

——

When Zheng Xi next woke from sleep, his mood was considerably better. He first gave Xu Jia a hundred strings of cash — though because a hundred strings of cash was too bulky for Xu Jia to carry away, and Zheng Xi did not happen to have that much heavy copper coin on him, he gave a piece of gold instead.

Xu Jia cradled the gold and got out his thanks in words that were not entirely coherent, then left in elated delight; just before going he could not resist making himself look favorable: “Seeing that their family was living in such a pitiful state, I even gave them a set of old clothes — and I charged a very low rent besides.”

Zheng Xi gave a slight nod, and Xu Jia was “escorted” out by the attendants.

Only then did Jin Liang give a fuller account of his encounter with Zhù Ying. There was not, in truth, much to say; all he could report was, “Quite a filial son — the father is one of the local offenders you released today.”

One sentence, and Zheng Xi understood everything. He, like Jin Liang, found this act of filial devotion rather admirable. Charlatanry and deception were certainly no good, but finding a filial son within that trade was still something worth praising. If Zheng Xi’s interest in the young peddler had before been perhaps one or two parts on account of his own needs, he now felt three or four parts of genuine goodwill toward the peddler as a person.

He was of course well aware that a filial son was not necessarily a good person — a man who murdered, committed arson, and betrayed his master could still be a filial son — but filial devotion was still preferable to its absence. And a filial son had a weak point, which was far preferable to a slippery rogue of no discernible character who gave you nothing to grasp.

Zheng Xi asked in passing, “Has Fifth Brother Shen’s niece been found?”

Jin Liang said, “Haven’t heard.”

Zheng Xi said, “We have nothing pressing at the moment. Change clothes and let us go and look in on that boy.”

Jin Liang said, “Oh — his mother mentioned he is the third-born.”

“And his older brothers?”

“Don’t know. Hmm — she said he was the only child, so they have probably died.”

Zheng Xi said, “Pack up some firewood and grain and the like. We’ll go and pay a visit.”