Zhao Su heard “there’s been a killing” and felt his heart clench. When he heard “bandits” he relaxed slightly. He looked over and saw Zhù Ying’s expression hadn’t changed, and asked quietly: “Adoptive Father — should we go and have a look?”

Zhù Ying investigated all cases in the county — of course she would go — so Zhao Su had asked.

Zhù Ying said: “Let’s have a look.”

Zhao Su fell naturally into step behind her. He too wanted to see exactly what kind of bandits would be this blind, daring to commit a crime in Fulu County.

The one who had come was the local ward headman — a man in his mid-forties, skin dark as weathered bark, a strip of white cloth tied at his waist. His face was creased with urgency. When he saw Zhù Ying he dropped immediately to his knees: “Magistrate! You must uphold justice for us!”

Zhù Ying said: “Slowly now — what happened?”

The headman said: “Everyone was busy with the rice harvest — men and women both out in the fields — and only the elderly and children were home minding the house, cooking meals. Some bandits burst in and started snatching food, snatching money — and if you didn’t hand it over, they’d kill you…”

Zhù Ying noted the subtle difference in his accent and guessed he must be from Fulu County’s edge nearest the neighboring county. She asked: “Which village are you from?”

The headman said: “This one is from Hexi Village — on the border with Sicheng County.”

Hexi Village — “West-of-the-River” — stood, as the name made clear, on the west side of the river. The river itself did not run perfectly north-south but flowed from its mountain source in a northwest-to-southeast diagonal, and this natural course served as the boundary line between the two counties. Hedong Village lay on the eastern bank, within Sicheng County.

It was currently the critical window for the harvest. Every able-bodied person in the village was out in the fields — cutting, threshing, drying grain, or winnowing — anyone who could do the work was pushing hard to finish. The old, the sick, the very young, with small children in tow, were at home making meals and carrying food and water out to the workers. Even the “fire prevention” arrangements Zhù Ying had put in place were being overlooked by many — let alone “theft prevention.” Their greatest treasure was in the fields, not the house — what thieves were they guarding against? What they feared was the crops not being cut in time and properly stored.

Zhù Ying asked: “When did this happen?”

“Yest — yesterday afternoon!”

Zhù Ying said: “The bandits — have they run off now?”

“Yes… oh…” The headman grew angrier and angrier as he spoke, and eventually he broke into a sobbing wail. In a village community — always the same clan, or two or three big surnames, with intermarriage woven throughout — almost everyone was a relative of everyone else. If one household was in mourning, the whole village was in white.

Zhù Ying asked: “Are there any eyewitnesses?”

“Yes — several people saw everything! They killed several people in one family, set fire to the house, and the man who was winnowing at the threshing ground saw the fire and struck the gong. That drove the bandits off.”

“How many bandits were there?”

“Three — three, I think?”

“What did they look like?”

“One thin man, one large and heavyset, one of medium build. Ragged clothing. Age, maybe twenty to thirty years old — forty at the most.”

“Did they flee together or separately?”

The headman’s anger had gradually been talked out of him. He shook his head: “I — I don’t know.”

“Do you know their appearances? Did you hear any of them address each other by name?”

The headman said: “I — I wasn’t there at the time.”

Zhù Ying said to Tong Li: “Ask Administrator Guan to come.”

Administrator Guan was right there in the county office, with his ears sharpened to a fine point for any news. The moment he heard himself summoned, he hurried over. Zhù Ying said: “There have been bandits killing in Hexi Village. I need to go and look at it myself. Post a notice: inform all villages to be on guard and report any strangers immediately.”

Administrator Guan said urgently: “Yes.”

Zhù Ying said: “Get the people together. We’re going.”

The headman knocked his head to the ground: “This one will lead the way!”

Zhù Ying went to the back and changed her clothes, then came out wearing a blade at her side, with Xiao Wu and others behind her. This time she did not bring Gao Shan — it had been demonstrated that this particular legal adjutant had no talent for criminal investigation. She brought a different one instead.

The party left the county seat. It was the height of the farming season, so unlike at the time of the Xie Liu Village affair, virtually no one came trailing along to watch. Zhù Ying ordered that the headman be given a donkey to ride. The county runners all piled onto a large cart rather than run on foot. The county coroner came as well, with a young apprentice, and Xiao Jiang brought the small dark-haired maidservant in another cart, and together they all set off for Hexi.

They had not gone thirty li when up ahead they encountered another person with a strip of white cloth at his waist. The headman thought it was someone from his own village, spurred his donkey forward, and called out a greeting — only to find this person was not from his village at all! The stranger also saw the mourning strip at the headman’s waist. The two stared at each other, each pointing at the other’s waist cloth, and said hesitantly: “You’re wearing…?”

By the time Zhù Ying drew near, the two had completed a wordless communication — another murder had occurred!

The other person with a mourning strip turned out to be a young man. When Xiao Wu said “This is Magistrate Zhù of this county,” the young man looked up carefully and said: “Magistrate! You must uphold justice for us!”

Zhù Ying had some recollection of this young man — she had made her round of the entire county, and this young man was one of the livelier presences in his village, notable enough to have made an impression.

Zhù Ying said: “Tell me slowly — what happened?”

“A — a criminal came to our village and killed someone!”

On the cart behind Zhù Ying, the county runners had just climbed down, not yet managed to form up in any ceremonial rank, and heard this line — and exchanged bewildered looks with one another.

Zhù Ying asked: “What kind of criminal? How many of them? How many were killed or wounded, and what are the circumstances?”

Like the headman from Hexi, this young man had not personally witnessed the crime. He said: “Last night — the old man who watches the threshing ground got up to relieve himself and heard movement and was afraid someone was stealing grain, so he went to look. He saw a shadow. The man killed the second son and beat the old man within an inch of his life. They thought the old man was dead too, but he wasn’t — he managed to crawl to the gong and beat it. That’s how we found out.”

Zhù Ying asked: “How many criminals? Can you describe their appearance? Have you seen them before?”

“Says there was just one! A stranger. A big heavyset man — with a scar on his face!”

The headman gave a sharp sound: “Is it — running straight down from his forehead?”

“You know him?”

By the timing, it appeared that three or more bandits had first struck at Hexi Village, then fled in different directions when frightened off, and one of them had committed another crime.

Zhù Ying’s heart grew heavy. She was not afraid of murder cases — but “splitting up and moving in different directions” was going to be very difficult to deal with!

Zhù Ying said: “Ah-Da, ride fast and ask Captain Ding to bring men!”

Zhao Su asked: “How many?”

Zhù Ying said: “Thirty should do — possibly we’ll need to split the force. Ask him to make sure the garrison camp itself is manned, especially the armory.”

“Yes.”

Zhù Ying broke a branch from a roadside tree and sketched quickly in the dirt — a river, a circle for Hexi Village, and circles for the villages nearby. She could see that between the young man’s village and Hexi there were two or three other villages, none of which had yet sent anyone to report. She estimated the time it would take for people on foot, without food, to move while avoiding the harvesters at every turn and the people watching the threshing grounds.

Zhù Ying ordered all the county runners to fan out at once, taking Hexi Village as the center point, and notify every village within roughly seventy li. The legal adjutant said: “But what about you, Magistrate?” If all these people were dispatched, Zhù Ying would be left with only Xiao Wu and the coroner.

Zhù Ying said: “Captain Ding will be here shortly! Go!”

The whole party drove together for several dozen li, then split up at intervals along the way to carry the alert to each village. These county runners had been selected by two criteria — competence first, and also making sure that every township and village had one or two among the runners who knew it well. The advantage of the second criterion was now evident — they had people who knew the roads, people who knew the faces. They divided the work among themselves and scattered.

The coroner also climbed down from the cart and waited for Zhù Ying’s instructions. Zhù Ying was waiting for Captain Ding.

Captain Ding, hearing that Zhù Ying had a case, was positively eager to come. Collaborating with her these days was not something he dared take money for — but a fine meal was always available. Helping to catch bandits could earn him a small merit as well.

Captain Ding mustered thirty men, mounted his horse, and charged over with weapons.

The two met. Captain Ding asked: “Where are the bandits?”

Zhù Ying said: “We’ll find out together. Let’s go.” She pointed at the young man with the mourning strip and said they would go to his village first. It was closer to the county seat than Hexi Village, and the headman from Hexi didn’t object — because there was a strong possibility that one of the killers from Hexi was also the perpetrator of this second crime. Even if he had objected, in front of the county magistrate there probably wasn’t much to be done about it.

The party arrived quickly at the young man’s village. People keeping watch at the village entrance called out when they saw them coming: “The men from the county office are here!” They then hesitated, seeing the riders on tall horses. The young man said: “It’s the county magistrate!” Some who had seen Zhù Ying before were already crying: “Magistrate!”

Zhù Ying said: “Nobody move! The person who discovered the body, along with the headman, come with me to the threshing ground first. Everyone else — go home, bar your doors, and do not come out.”

She did not enter the village first but instead led the party to the threshing ground. The threshing grounds here were like those elsewhere — a broad, hard-packed level of earth smoothed by rolling, grain heaped in some places, partly spread in others, plus unthreshed stalks. To one side were two small earthen huts where the watchmen lived. Outside the huts stood a low, battered table with a toppled bowl on it and a smashed water jar on the ground.

A lantern hung from the eaves. On the ground, many splotches of blood. The body and the wounded man had both been moved. The ground had been packed so solid and trafficked so heavily that useful footprints were almost impossible to find. Zhù Ying said: “Everyone stop — don’t move!”

She fixed her eyes on the blood pools. Some were splash patterns from a wound; some were drips; some had been smeared and dragged; some seemed to have been crawled through by the wounded man; and a few were bloody footprints.

Zhù Ying said: “Something’s not right — the old man wasn’t just beaten, was he? The attacker had a weapon — does the old man have any cuts or slashing wounds on his body?”

The young man was caught off-guard — the message he’d passed along had not been complete. The village headman spoke up instead: “Yes, he does!”

Zhù Ying looked more carefully at the blood pools. Most people walking past blood would go around it — so why were there blood-stained shoe prints at all?

Because the blood had soaked into the packed earth, softening it just slightly — a fraction more than the surrounding area. Before the blood dried, that softening had caught just enough of an impression. She could see the bloody shoe prints leading away from the threshing ground toward —

It was growing dark. Zhù Ying moved around the huts in a circuit, then used her riding crop to begin marking circles on the ground — circling each bloody shoe print and connecting them into a line pointing toward — the village.

The shoe prints showed a slight skid on one of the grain piles. Zhù Ying used her crop to fish up a blood-stained straw sandal from beside the grain heap. Not far away, she found the other one.

He had discarded his shoes! He had even washed his feet with the grain — rinsing off the blood with handfuls of grain kernels! After that, there would be almost no footprints left on the threshing ground for him.

Zhù Ying said: “We go quietly into the village. Let’s look at the injured old man — he can still talk, yes?”

The headman said: “Yes.”

Zhù Ying guessed as much — because the young man had not been present at the crime scene and could still describe it in some detail, meaning the survivor had provided the account.

They moved silently into the village. At the village center was a clearing with several stone tablets. Zhù Ying couldn’t help but look twice — she saw that some of the literacy monuments had bundles of firewood stacked in front of them, and a few others had accumulated goat droppings. Not all the characters cut in stone were cherished.

Suddenly Zhù Ying caught a flash of red near one of the stone monuments. She frowned slightly and turned her head away: “Lead on.”

Every household either peered through doorway cracks or craned over courtyard walls to watch the group pass. The young man led them to the home of the old watchman. The old man’s household had four courtyards in a row facing east — he lived in the easternmost one, his three sons occupied the other three, all of them having already set up their own households in separate branches. One courtyard had a mourning structure set up outside it — that was the family that had lost the son. They entered the old watchman’s courtyard. An old woman was weeping; a younger woman was comforting her; a male figure was drawing water from the courtyard well.

The young man called: “Third Brother — the county magistrate has come in person!”

The whole family hurried to kneel. Zhù Ying said: “Is the old man well? I’ve come to look at him. Is he still able to speak?”

The old man was inside the room, lying in the dim light. When the window was opened, it was clear he had been beaten — a mass of bruises and swellings — his body wrapped in criss-crossing strips of cloth of various colors, dark blotches already seeping through. Zhù Ying said: “You haven’t called a physician?” She reached into her robe and drew out a handful of coins, passing them to the old man’s wife: “Take this and go call a physician and get some medicine.”

Then she turned to look at the old man. He lay staring blankly at the rafters, flies and mosquitoes drifting around him. Xiao Wu hurried forward, whipped out the fan at his belt, and began fanning them away. Zhù Ying said in a low voice: “Old man — did you see the criminal? Tell me, and I will avenge you.”

The old man stirred with agitation, tried to move, and was driven back by the pain. Zhù Ying bent close: “Tell me.”

The old man said hoarsely —

Harvested rice is typically husked at one end of the threshing ground and then spread to dry; winnowing happens alongside. When grain is on the ground, someone is usually watching it — often a middle-aged or elderly person. The old man had brought his grandson to sleep out at the threshing ground with him. They had worked hard all day and were already asleep. He heard a sound and called out, and the intruder came leaping at him and started beating him.

He beat the old man bloody and half-blind. The old man cried out for help. The little grandson woke up and ran out to fight the intruder, and the intruder kicked him once in the chest — killing him on the spot. The old man tried to fight back and was beaten again. Then the intruder delivered one slash of a blade — a sharp chopper — believing him dead, and left.

The threshing ground was some distance from the village and nobody heard the commotion. But fire prevention required a gong at the threshing ground. The old man crawled to it and struck it, which brought the villagers running.

Zhù Ying asked: “Are you certain? Just the one person?”

The old man breathed like a bellows: “Yes.”

Zhù Ying had the coroner examine the old man’s injuries. The coroner looked him over and said: “From the beating — fists and feet by the look of it. The blade wound…” His expertise was primarily with the dead.

Zhù Ying said to the old man: “Rest now.” They stepped out of the courtyard and went to look at the body of the dead child. The child’s father wore an expression of pure hatred. The child’s mother sat beside a thin, small coffin, clutching a baby, weeping — this family had three children. The eldest was out in the fields with the father; the mother had the youngest strapped to her back while she worked; the middle child had gone out to the threshing ground to keep the grandfather company.

A woman beside the mother was saying: “Sister-in-law — if you carry on like this, the child won’t be able to go in peace.”

When they saw Zhù Ying they flung themselves at her feet: “Magistrate — seek justice for us!”

Zhù Ying said: “Help them up.” Then she went to look at the child.

The body had been washed and dressed in a relatively new set of clothes with few patches. The small face was a waxy white. The coroner stepped forward and said: “Chest bone is crushed — enormous force used. No other wounds. Death came quickly — there was not much suffering.” Xiao Jiang came forward to look. The coroner said: “Please step back.” The child’s parents were right there — it was not appropriate to study the body.

The party did not stay long at the mourning household. Once outside, Captain Ding said angrily: “What kind of bastard does this to a child?! Have the guts to face me in a real fight!”

Zhao Su said in a low voice: “Adoptive Father — what do we do now?”

Zhù Ying said: “Captain Ding — have your men light torches and surround every path out of the village. Those approaches there, there, and over there — post men, watch the perimeter. Any person who comes out, note them and call halt! Ward headman, you and your people: if a person tries to move, overpower them.”

Captain Ding said: “Yes!” The headman agreed readily as well.

Zhù Ying then ordered the whole village also to stay put. She went back to the literacy monument, took another look at the red mark in better light — sure enough, a smeared bloody handprint. Someone had tried to wipe blood from his hand on the stone tablet and had not done a clean job. He had pulled a bit of dry grass from the base of the monument to wipe his hand clean, then dropped it on the ground.

The footprints at this spot were perfectly clear to Zhù Ying — and they were utterly different! Nothing like the bloody shoe prints from the threshing ground. There was no corresponding barefoot impression matching the discarded straw sandals. Instead, a pair of cloth shoes worn smooth on the soles overlapped perfectly with the handprint in position.

Zhù Ying personally led a search of the village — house by house, working her way through — until she found a young man who had recently married into the village. She said: “You have blood on your hand?”

The young man was still not sure what was happening and nodded obediently, smiling: “How did you know, Magistrate?”

The headman smacked him hard on the back of his head: “You wretched fool! Are you trying to get yourself killed? Where did the blood come from?”

“When we were carrying the injured old man, it got on me. Once he was inside and people took over, I went…”

It was now dark. Zhù Ying said: “If it’s not him, keep searching! Ask around the village — who is missing a pair of shoes, nine-inch width or bigger! Hurry!”

When the lamps were lit, no extra person had appeared in the village. But one household reported a theft: “A pair of new shoes — nine-inch width. We never even got to wear them!”

Zhù Ying went to this household and asked: “Who made the shoes? Is there any thread from the same work? Better yet, if you have a similar pair for comparison, show me.”

The daughter-in-law of the house blushed slightly and produced another pair of shoes: “They are this one’s needlework — this pair has been worn already.”

Zhù Ying examined the shoes, then flipped them over to study the soles. She said: “Understood.”

As it was now fully dark, she settled the party in that village for the night. The villagers were to remain in place; Captain Ding’s men rotated in shifts keeping watch. The several in the party were distributed among the ward headman’s and neighboring households. At that moment a shriek came from inside the village: “Where’s my donkey?!”

Zhù Ying had no choice but to go to that household and look. There it was — the donkey was gone. At this household, unexpectedly, she found a new set of nine-inch shoe prints — the soles showed the same needlework style as the pair she had just examined. The prints had entered — and there was no exit. Zhù Ying asked: “When did you last see your donkey?”

The family fell over themselves to answer: “Day before yesterday when we pulled the cart to the threshing ground.” “No — it was yesterday.” By the time they sorted it out, the donkey had apparently gone missing that very morning! With all the commotion about the killing during the night and the early morning confusion, the father had assumed the son had taken the donkey, and the son had assumed the father had taken the donkey. It was only now, with no one allowed to leave the village, that the donkey was finally noticed missing.

A donkey was not easy to come by! The family had those sighing, those stamping their feet, and those weeping.

Zhù Ying said: “Make a note of it for now.” She checked the donkey’s stall — the ground had some loose straw, a few hoof prints still visible. But it was dark and not good for tracking. They would have to rest for the night.

The next morning, the rooster had barely crowed before Zhù Ying was up and dressed. The whole village, though it had the sounds of people rising, wood-splitting, and fire-starting, had a feeling of stillness about it — everything overlaid by a faint pervading dread and sorrow.

Through the stillness ran an undercurrent of anxiety — the rice had not yet all been brought in! Even with someone dead and someone badly wounded, the rice still had to be beaten, the grain still had to be dried and put away. The villagers were restless and uneasy, not daring to be the first to say it aloud. One bold soul already shouted: “We cannot lose the moment for the harvest!”

The headman’s household rose early and made a big pot of congee — two big pots, in fact — and, gritting their teeth, brought out some eggs. With a small dish of pickled vegetables, it was a meal. Zhù Ying said to Xiao Wu: “Pay him.”

Captain Ding’s men ate with the most natural ease in the world — soldiers eat their pay, and that’s the way of it.

After everyone had eaten, Zhù Ying went back to the donkey stall for one more look, then told the headman: “Everyone, go about your regular work!”

Then she set out following the donkey’s hoof prints with the rest of the party.

Zhao Su was full of curiosity and asked: “Adoptive Father — I also know to track a trail. But how does Adoptive Father do it?”

Zhù Ying said without thinking: “I’ll teach you when we’re back.” Then she stopped herself and looked at Xiao Wu, then the coroner and Xiao Jiang, then remembered Gao Shan and Tong Li and the others, and thought: Not only does Xiao Jiang need to learn the coroner’s methods — all these people need to learn how to investigate cases properly.

She filed this away as a task for later, and pressed on tracking the hoof prints.

Not far out of the village, the main road ahead churned with a distant cloud of dust. Zhù Ying narrowed her eyes! Captain Ding shaded his eyes with his hand and said with surprise: “Is there another garrison unit in Fulu County? Magistrate, stay back — let me go look.”

Zhù Ying slowed her horse and followed behind. She watched as two sets of riders converged, and heard Captain Ding call out: “Who are you people?”

A loud voice came back: “Old Ding is it? It’s me! Here to catch fugitives!”

“Captain Chang?!”

The two horses drew together — they knew each other. Captain Ding had formerly served as Captain Chang’s deputy and been transferred to Fulu County. Captain Chang said: “You’ve got it good here — getting rich!”

Zhù Ying, hearing that tone of light derision, pulled up her horse and stayed back about three paces. Captain Ding said cheerfully: “What do you mean? Better to say I keep auditing accounts! What fugitives? Want our help?”

Captain Chang said carelessly: “Show him.”

Captain Ding said: “Can’t read many characters myself.”

He opened the papers anyway. Three roughly drawn portraits — three of them. Captain Ding called back: “Magistrate Zhù!”

Zhù Ying came forward. With Captain Ding making introductions, she exchanged pleasantries with Captain Chang. The ranks of captains were not equivalent — Captain Chang outranked him by two grades. Still, his rank was lower than Zhù Ying’s. Captain Chang’s manner held a certain nonchalance as he clasped his hands: “So you’re the famous Magistrate Zhù! So young — a true little god of fortune scattering coins! Ha ha ha ha!”

Zhù Ying said: “A coin-scattering god needs coins to scatter — where’s the money in a place this poor?”

Captain Ding passed the portraits to Zhù Ying. Captain Chang cleared his throat: “This is my county’s business — no need to trouble Magistrate Zhù.”

Zhù Ying had already reviewed all three portraits. The first was a thin man — Mao Liu, twenty-three years old. The second was someone called Lou Qi, whose portrait was entirely unremarkable. The artist had tried his best to record the most distinctive feature — and had come up with nothing. If anything, all that could be said of Lou Qi’s portrait was: this is a man. You could see the artist had put real effort in — he had even drawn some stubble on Lou Qi, but the stubble had no particular shape either.

The third portrait was Wang Dahu — “Wang the Great Tiger.” This one was large and heavyset.

All three descriptions matched the headman from Hexi Village with uncanny accuracy. Captain Ding said in a low voice: “When I transferred here, these three weren’t in Sicheng County yet. They must be newly arrived criminals!”

Zhù Ying called the Hexi headman forward: “Come and look.”

The headman trotted over, said anxiously: “I only heard from others — it really does look like them!”

Zhù Ying said: “Take these to the village and let the old man identify them.”

Captain Chang had been only half-listening to the exchange, but the words “let them identify” caught his attention: “What — have you seen them?”

Captain Ding said: “They committed crimes in our jurisdiction! How did they escape?”

Captain Chang said: “Am I being interrogated, Old Ding?”

Zhao Su had already taken the portraits and spurred his horse back to the village. He returned shortly after: “Adoptive Father — it is this Wang Dahu!”

Zhù Ying said: “Captain Chang — I need an explanation. The crimes these three have committed here are not limited to one. Furthermore — troops from Sicheng County entering my territory without authorization — is that something that can pass without explanation?”

Captain Chang sputtered. Captain Ding coughed once and said: “Captain, shouldn’t we capture the criminals first and sort out the rest afterward?”

Captain Chang’s face went through several colors but he couldn’t just turn and leave. Three serious criminals had escaped from his hands, and they had already committed murders. How could he simply walk away? These three had not only committed crimes in Fulu County — they had already killed and fled from Sicheng County, which was precisely why Captain Chang had come with twenty or thirty men to chase them himself!

He had been tracking them by following the trail of murders and thefts. And he had not filed any official notice before crossing into Fulu County — Fulu County had been without a garrison for years, and this stretch had technically fallen under his patrol, though in practice he never came. Now he was desperate to catch serious criminals before they could cause more chaos, so — official documents? None. Catch the criminals first, worry about paperwork later.

He wasn’t going to put the blame entirely on himself. Certain men under his command who were more in the know had learned, vaguely, about the situation in Fulu County — that a certain dreadful quiet post had, it turned out, money to be had! Captain Chang’s men, hearing this, had not staged a mutiny, but they grew lazy and listless in their duties, and let several serious criminals slip away.

He had come prejudiced, and that showed through in his words. He also resented Zhù Ying — how could she show such poor judgment and lavish attention on Captain Ding? What kind of official was she? No backbone either!

Captain Ding was on his own home turf now and didn’t shrink from his “former superior.” He hadn’t flipped the table, but he was also aware he was a county captain now himself — his earlier good-natured offer to help had been brushed off with a sarcastic remark, so he adopted a public-duty-first demeanor.

The atmosphere went stiff for a moment.

One quick-witted orderly at Captain Chang’s back grinned across at Captain Ding: “Captain — shouldn’t we deal with catching the criminals first and settle everything else afterward?”

It was a reasonable point, and the concern was that the officers’ pride-contest would delay things. Captain Chang had already fumbled his duties — he desperately needed to catch those criminals. What they feared was that a local official would play games — in Fulu County’s tradition: as long as I don’t admit it and don’t report it, my county hasn’t had any crime, and I maintain my paradise of peace. They were genuinely afraid Zhù Ying might be that kind of person.

Captain Ding said: “Murder cases in the county belong to the magistrate.”

He spoke a plain truth, then added: “Captain — what’s the background on these fugitives?”

The orderly smiled: “All of them have blood on their hands.”

Zhù Ying said: “Killing and robbery, and they weren’t sentenced to death?”

The orderly said: “You’re an astute one, Magistrate. If you have money, you can buy your way out of a death sentence.” It was simply a matter of reclassifying a premeditated murder as an accidental killing, or self-defense. Or, say a group of bandits — the ringleader is Zhang San, who must die. One of his underlings, Li Si, gets re-labeled as the ringleader, and Zhang San gets written as the underling — everything else unchanged except the names. Li Si is sentenced to death; Zhang San gets penal exile. If the local court doesn’t look too carefully and submits the case record to the Court of Judicial Review in that state, the Court — which cannot possibly conduct on-site verification for every single case — will approve the local judgment. And the Court cannot realistically audit every case on the ground.

The orderly smiled: “That’s their own boasting — this one can’t say if it’s true. Though Mao Liu is different — he was swept up in a mass brawl.”

Group fighting again.

Captain Ding, being within Captain Chang’s old chain of command, did not quite have Zhù Ying’s nerve. He said in a low voice: “Magistrate Zhù — shouldn’t we get the criminals first, and deal with the rest after? Otherwise they’ll keep on hurting people.”

Zhù Ying said to Captain Chang: “Captain — I happen to be tracking Wang Dahu right now. Shall we go together?”

Captain Chang suppressed a cough and thought: Just wait — once the criminals are caught, then we’ll settle accounts. Hmph! As for catching the criminals — you’ll need us for that!

He said: “Good. Please, lead the way.”

Zhù Ying took out the inkstone pouch she always carried, dashed off a quick note, folded it, and sealed it into a small bamboo tube. She said to Captain Ding: “Captain, please have someone deliver this to the county office for Administrator Guan.”

Captain Ding said: “Done!”

One soldier took the bamboo tube, commandeered a donkey from the village, and rode off in a cloud of dust to find Administrator Guan.

Captain Chang asked: “In which direction has the criminal Wang Dahu fled?”

Zhù Ying said: “Follow me.”

She led the way. Zhao Su, Xiao Wu, and others followed behind her. Captain Chang and Captain Ding came further behind. Captain Chang rode while Zhù Ying had to trace the trail carefully and so moved more slowly. Captain Chang grew impatient: “Now that we have a general direction, why don’t we just head from village to village and ask? If none, move to the next one? These men have already got blood in their eyes — they won’t pass through any village without leaving a mark.”

Xiao Wu thought: If you’d kept better watch on your criminals, we wouldn’t be in this situation. Our county’s criminals stay put like good boys!

Zhù Ying glanced at Captain Chang but said nothing. Captain Chang felt strangely uncomfortable under that perfectly unremarkable gaze and grew even more thoroughly annoyed at this smooth-faced county magistrate.

Fortunately the donkey hoof prints were still relatively clear to follow. This was not a meat donkey — it had iron shoes, with a chip on the right rear hoof. Once you’d identified the mark, the trail moved quickly enough.

Along the way there were rice paddies already harvested and some still waiting. Zhù Ying said: “Be careful — don’t trample the crops.”

Captain Chang said: “Of course.” But a few of his men deliberately trampled a few stalks, and Captain Ding could not help but frown at the sight. His own men’s discipline was not exactly pristine either, but watching Captain Chang’s men do it — that he didn’t like. He gave a pointed cough, drawing everyone’s gaze, and deliberately looked at the men who had strayed into the paddy. Captain Chang, face darkening, whipped those few men himself.

After half a day’s travel, the hoof prints entered a village, and the party followed them in. The able-bodied had all gone to the fields; only the old and very young were about. Seeing a great mob of people arrive, they were terrified!

But there was one old farmer in the village — someone Zhù Ying had once brought to the county seat to advise on planting. She hadn’t needed his services again since, but she still remembered his face. The old man, frightened by the soldiers, saw Zhù Ying and was no longer afraid at all. He grinned and came forward to meet her: “Magistrate!”

Zhù Ying asked: “Why are you in the village instead of out in the fields?”

“Too old! Came back to fetch some food.”

Zhù Ying said: “A stranger came into your village.”

“How did you know, Magistrate?”

“He arrived on a donkey?”

The old farmer’s eyes darted left and right. He looked down and scuffed his straw sandal on the ground: “Yes, yes — he’s eating a meal right now!”

Zhù Ying said: “What’s happened to the donkey?”

The old man tilted his face up and gave a helpless smile: “Nothing gets past you, Magistrate. He said — kill a chicken, make a proper rice meal, pack two baskets of meat and wine, and the donkey is yours.”

Xiao Wu sucked in a sharp breath. Zhù Ying said: “Where is he?”

The old farmer asked carefully: “Magistrate — something wrong? That’s not a good person?” He looked at the assembled soldiers. “Is he a criminal?”

“The number of lives on his hands is more than your household has members.”

Captain Chang said impatiently: “Where is the man? Lead us to him!”

The old farmer was in a complete panic. He ran ahead to lead the way. Zhù Ying said: “Don’t alarm the village!”

There was no keeping the village unalarmed. For one, Captain Chang was eager to capture the man and moved noisily; for another, the village children were a lively bunch, and they laughed and clapped, calling to friends: “The soldiers on big horses are here!”

Zhù Ying said: “This is bad! Quick!”

The old farmer ran ahead, but still — they were one step too slow. In the clearing outside his house, the big heavyset man had a hand planted on the old farmer’s wife, and with the other hand held a chopper pressed against the old woman’s throat!

The watching children all froze in terror. A few small ones began to wail. Zhù Ying said: “Quiet! Parents — take your children away!”

Captain Ding was not gentle about it — he slapped the loudest-crying child on the back of the head: “Yell again and the mountain people will come down and eat you!”

Zhù Ying: …

Zhao Su: …

Captain Ding hadn’t even realized — it had just come out of habit.

Zhù Ying thought: I’ll settle this account with you when we’re home. She raised her voice and called out to Wang Dahu: “Did you kill people at Hexi?”

Wang Dahu didn’t take a smooth-faced youngster seriously. He sneered: “You should be asking how many. Good little boy — asking just what I tell you! Your daddy here will give you an answer! Me and your uncles — we lost count! Ha ha ha ha!”

Captain Ding’s face went dark. He resolved to act, then looked at Zhù Ying — couldn’t let a civilian county magistrate watch something this bloody. He waved a signal and four soldiers, two on each side, planted themselves solidly in front of Zhù Ying, blocking her view.

Captain Chang cast a contemptuous glance at this spectacle and said: “Surround!” His men were tighter and more formidable than Captain Ding’s — seasoned soldiers all. Eight drew blades and faced Wang Dahu. Eight more notched arrows, leveling them at Wang Dahu through the gaps between the sword-men.

Captain Chang shouted: “Wang Dahu — surrender!”

Wang Dahu smirked, hauled the old woman backward until his back was against an earthen wall: “Stay back! Come any closer and I kill her!”

The chopper pressed against her skin. The old woman dared not move. She said softly: “Sir — seeing that I made you a meal…”

Wang Dahu didn’t bother answering her. He simply pressed the chopper tighter. The old woman went completely silent.

Zhù Ying gave a quiet sigh, stepped back several paces, slipped around behind a house, and disappeared from view. Captain Chang caught a glimpse of this out of the corner of his eye and felt another flash of contempt.

Zhao Su and the others also retreated with her. Zhao Su said in a low voice: “Adoptive Father — are you going to leave it entirely to them? I’m afraid he doesn’t care about that old woman’s life. Once the arrows fly — the criminal is dead, but what happens to the old woman will be nobody’s concern.”

Zhù Ying raised a hand and unhooked her ink-stone pouch, handing it to Zhao Su. He said: “Adoptive Father?”

Zhù Ying continued unhooking the other small items hanging from her person, then drew out a knife a foot in length and gripped it between her teeth. She took up her long blade, and before Zhao Su could say another word she slipped lightly around the side of the house.

She made a wide circle, coming to the back of the old farmer’s house. She gathered herself and leapt onto the roof. A thatched roof is not like a tiled one — you must move more carefully on it, and there is always the risk of punching through. She moved across the thatch and stepped lightly onto the top of the low courtyard wall. She crouched, knees slightly bent, and stood steady on the wall top.

Wang Dahu suddenly sensed something wrong in the expressions of the soldiers facing him!

He felt a twinge of self-satisfaction — but something was still off. A direct instinct — the instinct of a man who had lived with blades at his side, an instinct that had saved his life many times before.

There was no time to think. He began shuffling the old woman sideways — move first, then figure it out!

As he moved, a narrow blade came slicing down hard across his right wrist — fast, precise, and ruthless — cutting clean through the tendons.

Wang Dahu bellowed in pain! He spun around — and saw Zhù Ying’s expressionless face.

Zhù Ying’s eyes were on Captain Chang. Her long blade came down hard across Wang Dahu’s back — a wound that reached the bone.

Wang Dahu’s body jerked in a reflex. His left arm flung out — the old woman grabbed a lungful of air, scrambled away — and Wang Dahu felt the loss of her weight and his left hand shot out again, seizing the old woman’s throat once more. He turned his face toward Captain Chang and the others, grinning with a look of savage, hideous triumph.

Zhù Ying reached one hand down from the top of the wall and seized Wang Dahu’s topknot in a hard grip. With a sharp wrench she dropped from the wall, and in the same motion drove the short blade in her other hand against the side of his throat.

“Let her go,” she said.

Wang Dahu’s left hand tightened. The old woman’s eyes began to roll back and her throat rasped. A cry of alarm went up from those facing them.

The short blade in Zhù Ying’s hand drew across Wang Dahu’s throat — left to right — deep and deliberate, opening a second mouth in his neck. At first the blood did not flow as heavily as might be expected, because she had not yet reached the artery on the left side. As she completed the stroke, the blade cut open the great artery on the right — and blood came surging out. Zhù Ying held him by his topknot, as if bleeding a chicken, her eyes still fixed on Captain Chang.

From the moment she stood on the wall to the moment Wang Dahu’s body crashed heavily to the ground — no more than a few breaths.