Night fell over Xinghua City.
Wang Daxia crouched with the medicinal soup. “King Ming, time to take your medicine.”
King Ming awoke from his stupor. This time, it didn’t seem as painful. Looking down, he saw his legs surrounded by a circle of handkerchiefs wrapped around ice blocks, freezing the two purple eggplants about to burst and the vajra pestle between them.
The ice compress didn’t reduce the swelling, but it could numb the pain.
King Ming said with difficulty: “Madam is truly ingenious, thinking of this method.”
Wang Daxia thought to himself: Actually, it was the doctors’ suggestion. They said the weather was warming, and if ice blocks weren’t used to cool it down, maggots might breed.
Wang Daxia fed King Ming with a spoon. “This slave and the child in my belly both depend on King Ming, naturally urgent about King Ming’s urgencies and pained by King Ming’s pain, thus thinking of this method. Though it treats the symptoms not the root cause, it can alleviate King Ming’s suffering.”
Since Linqing County, the child in Wang Daxia’s belly had successively gained three fathers: Lu Ying, Wei Caiwei, and King Ming. Truly one child with three fathers—anyone could be the husband.
King Ming didn’t want to drink medicine. Whenever he consumed food or water, he would urinate, and each urination brought pus and blood, causing excruciating pain that made him want to chop off this source of trouble. But without medicine, he would die even faster. So, driven by the desire for survival, he still cooperatively drank the medicine.
Wang Daxia took out a handkerchief and wiped away the medicine that leaked from the corner of King Ming’s mouth. “Pain in your body, ache in my heart. King Ming must recover soon.”
King Ming grasped his hand. “Only you have always hoped for my recovery. I wonder when Boss Ximen and Doctor He will return from seeking medicine.”
No matter how brilliant and mighty a person is, when they or their loved ones face death, their spirit becomes most fragile. They inevitably fall for claims of curing all diseases, pinning hopes on lies, even deceiving themselves.
Wang Daxia hoped even more than King Ming for their return, saying: “It should be soon. It’s just that the roads aren’t peaceful. This slave worries they might be captured by imperial troops or other pirates, so took the liberty of sending some people out of the city to meet them.”
King Ming asked: “Who did you send?”
Wang Daxia counted on his orchid fingers: “Various people like Chiba, Mingzhen, Kinoshita Kojiro—”
In any case, all were fierce real wokou. Wang Daxia deliberately sent them out and informed Luo Longwen of their whereabouts. Luo Longwen dispatched escort masters with intelligence out of the city to inform Hu Zongxian. Hu Zongxian had ambushes set at necessary passages, and by now had completely annihilated them outside the city. One by one, they departed never to return, gradually weakening King Ming’s forces.
“You mean Matsushita Jiro,” King Ming corrected.
Wang Daxia showed a regretful expression. “Aiya, this slave is too stupid, can’t even remember names clearly.”
King Ming comforted him: “Japanese names are indeed hard to remember. It’s not your fault. You’ve already done very well. Without you, how could I rest peacefully while recovering?”
Wang Daxia said: “They were sent out last night, over a hundred people in total. Now it’s dark and they haven’t returned yet. This slave worries they got separated from Doctor He and the others, so just dispatched another team to meet them. Right now, nothing is more important than treating King Ming’s illness.”
King Ming praised highly: “You truly are my capable assistant. I—”
Just as they were talking, commotion arose outside. King Ming’s face darkened like water. “What’s happening?”
Wang Daxia stuffed a tiger’s eye toffee into King Ming’s mouth. “This slave will go see.”
Wang Daxia walked out the door. His tender, water-like gaze suddenly became cold and sharp. Holding the token King Ming gave him, he walked out of the compound with hands on hips. At the gate, a group of bare-legged real wokou were agitated, clamoring to see King Ming.
King Ming’s guards had set up barriers at the gate, refusing to let them enter.
“What are you yelling about! Do you want to rebel!” Wang Daxia scolded with hands on hips, instantly transforming from a beauty into a shrew, pointing at the real wokou’s noses and cursing: “You bunch of fallen sycamore leaves, bare-bodied rascals! Bullying this old lady for being a woman, coming to the door to bully me!”
These wokou, having been in Daming for a long time, could understand the language. They quickly said: “We’re not here to cause trouble. We just want to see King Ming.”
Wang Daxia rolled his eyes: “You think you can see him just by saying so? Who do you think you are? Oh, I remember now, you’re that what’s-his-name chestnut—”
The wokou couldn’t help correcting: “I’m called Mouri Kogorou.”
Wang Daxia clapped his hands together: “Right, that’s you. I already sent you to lead your subordinates out of the city to meet Doctor He and Boss Ximen. Why haven’t you set off yet?”
The wokou said: “The hundred-man team sent yesterday hasn’t returned yet. I think before clarifying their whereabouts, we can’t act rashly and throw another batch of people into the pit.”
Wang Daxia raised the token: “What? Even King Ming’s orders don’t work anymore? Each of you wants to rebel!”
The wokou had long detested this mean, stupid, meddlesome, pretentious enchanting slut who had nothing going for her except a face and big chest.
The wokou grew agitated: “This is Madam’s order, not King Ming’s order.” “King Ming would never make us leave the city to die in vain.”
Wang Daxia’s voice was immediately drowned out by the crowd, but the more chaotic the scene, the more excited he became. He picked up a suona—an instrument essential from marriage to funeral—puffed up his cheeks, and blew hard. The suona’s chicken-killing screech immediately overwhelmed all questioning voices.
Wang Daxia put down the suona: “King Ming entrusted the token to me. My orders are King Ming’s orders. Whether you accept it or not, you must comply. If you don’t accept it, you’re rebelling, and rebellion means beheading. I’ll say this one last time: quickly leave the city and meet them at the route I designated!”
Mouri Kogorou said: “Before leaving the city, we must see King Ming. If King Ming personally orders it, we’ll go through fire and flood.”
Wang Daxia’s almond eyes rolled: “I suspect you want to rebel. Guards, seize them!”
The guards surged forward while the wokou resisted. Both sides still showed restraint, not yet drawing weapons. Wang Daxia immediately changed expression again, crying like pear blossoms in rain, covering his face with a handkerchief and running into the courtyard, shrieking: “Murder! Rebellion!”
Hearing the commotion, King Ming couldn’t lie still anymore. Enduring the pain, he sat on a sedan chair with a hollowed-out bottom like a toilet, carried out by eight strong men.
“King Ming!” Wang Daxia threw himself into King Ming’s arms. “They’re all bullying this slave. King Ming must do justice for me!”
Seeing King Ming finally appear, the wokou stopped resisting and knelt down: “Madam twice sent people to meet the doctors. The first team still has no news, yet she wants to send us out of the city. We felt this was improper and came to discuss with Madam, but she insists on saying we’re rebelling and bullying her. King Ming, please judge clearly—we have no treacherous intentions.”
The three thousand real wokou were Xinghua City’s main force. King Ming didn’t want to break with them while weak, saying: “I trust your loyalty. It’s just that the first team hasn’t returned, and I’m very concerned about them. You go out of the city now to seek news of them, meet up with them, then together escort the medicine-seeking doctors back to the city safely.”
With King Ming speaking, though the wokou were still somewhat unwilling, they couldn’t say anything more. They armed themselves fully and left the city to search.
Wang Daxia held his hands to his chest, looking at King Ming adoringly: “King Ming is still most capable. The same words—when King Ming says them, they work. When this slave says them, they treat them as wind past the ears.”
King Ming said: “Madam has been wronged. Right now we still need them—we can’t break relations.”
Wang Daxia showed regret: “This slave acted too hastily.”
King Ming was already too pained to comfort his beauty: “Quick, carry me back for ice compress. It hurts so much!”
This hundred-man team, upon leaving the city, also fell into the ambush circle—like meat buns thrown to dogs, departing never to return.
After King Ming drank his medicine and fell into drowsy sleep again, Wang Daxia received a secret letter. Opening it, he saw Wei Caiwei’s handwriting: “Tonight at midnight, kill King Ming, attack the city.”
Wang Daxia was overjoyed. He burned the secret letter with a candle and, wielding the chicken feather as an arrow token, arranged Ding Wu, the Shunfeng boat masters, and other allies at the city gates and guard posts.
At midnight, when people were drowsiest, Jiangnan’s spring brought much rain, which began pattering down, further inducing sleep.
Outside Xinghua City came a group of horsemen carrying White Lotus banners. Leading them were Wei Caiwei, Lu Ying and others returning from medicine-seeking, followed by over two hundred wokou. They all wore bamboo hats to shield against wind and rain, their faces unclear, but from their pale bare legs, they appeared to be the wokou sent out yesterday and today to meet the medicine-seeking team.
It turned out they had achieved a “three-army” rendezvous.
Wei Caiwei and Lu Ying removed their bamboo hats, raised their tokens, and revealed their faces and identities: “We return from seeking medicine for King Ming! Open the gates!”
Ding Wu quickly ordered the drawbridge over the moat lowered: “Hurry, King Ming is still waiting for the medicine.”
The drawbridge was lowered. Wei Caiwei and Lu Ying led the “wokou” into the city. After all the troops had entered, Lu Ying gave a whistle. Everyone drew their swords—those who cut people cut people, those who cut ropes cut ropes—occupying the city gate almost instantly.
Wei Caiwei shot three fireworks into the sky. Red lotus flowers bloomed one by one in the rainy night sky.
Seeing the red lotus signal, Yu Dayou and Qi Jiguang, lying in ambush outside the city, simultaneously led their armies charging in through the drawbridge.
Wang Daxia hadn’t slept, sitting by the window listening to cold rain tapping the glass until three red lotus flowers burst in the night sky. The anti-wokou army had entered the city!
Firework sounds, gunshots, battle cries—all reached his ears, awakening King Ming. Opening his eyes, he saw a bright, pretty face: “What’s happening outside?”
Wang Daxia said: “I want to borrow something from King Ming.”
King Ming touched the pretty face: “What’s mine is yours. I’d give you my life.”
Wang Daxia asked: “Really?”
King Ming nodded.
Wang Daxia said: “Then I won’t be polite.”
Wang Daxia swung his blade. In an instant, King Ming felt all the pain in his body miraculously disappear. Then he saw a familiar headless corpse. Even in death, the vajra pestle still stood like a banner, propping up a thin veil.
Author’s Note: King Ming’s illness was modeled after Ximen Qing’s death in Jin Ping Mei. Both King Ming and Ximen Qing suffered from chronic prostatitis due to long-term sexual excess. The medicine containing pinellia damaged their liver and kidneys, causing physical depletion that led to worsened inflammation and urinary tract infection, incomplete urination progressing to bloody urine, then swelling large as purple eggplants, with the member erect day and night. Without antibiotics, sepsis developed, ultimately leading to systemic organ failure and death.