‘These people barged in, and without so much as a look at Mrs Pan this lady began to slander Mrs Xue. We tried to talk some sense into her, but then this ruffian butted in, and started using the most dreadful language in front of the young ladies. What a shocking way to carry on!’
‘There’s no point arguing with him now,’ replied Jia Lian. ‘It would only be a waste of time. When they question him under torture, he’ll remember soon enough that the inner apartments are strictly reserved for women and that he has no right to be in here. His mother could surely have come to inspect her daughter’s corpse by herself. It will look extremely suspicious to the authorities, very much as if he had come to rob the place.’
Jia Lian’s men managed by one means or another to keep Xia San under control outside, while Mrs Zhou, emboldened by the presence of so many Jia supporters, began denouncing Mrs Xia in earnest:
‘Really, madam, you should know better. You should have found out the facts when you arrived. Your daughter must have poisoned herself. The only other person it could have been is Moonbeam. Why go slandering without bothering to find out the truth and without so much as seeing the corpse for yourself? Do you think ours is the kind of family to stand by and let a daughter-in-law die without discovering the cause of her death?
‘Moonbeam and Caltrop have both been bound. Your daughter had asked for Caltrop to move into her room earlier, because she said she wanted to keep an eye on her illness. That’s why Caltrop was also there at the time of Mrs Pan’s death. We were hoping that you could be present at the inquest and hear the officer establish the truth of the matter.’
Jin-gui’s mother knew that she was beaten, and she followed Zhou Rui’s wife into Jin-gui’s apartment. She saw her daughter’s corpse lying stiff on the kang, the face caked in dry blood, and at once broke down and began sobbing. Moonbeam, seeing someone from ‘her side’, cried out:
‘Madam was so kind to Caltrop! She even shared her own room with her! But Caltrop grabbed the first chance that came along of poisoning her!’
The Xue family and servants raised a cry of protest:
‘Nonsense! Who was it cooked the soup that Mrs Pan drank before she died? You!’
‘I cooked it and served it,’ said Moonbeam, ‘but then I had to go out on an errand. Caltrop must have got up and put poison in the soup while I was out.’
Before Moonbeam could finish speaking Jin-gui’s mother lunged at Caltrop and could only be restrained by the concerted efforts of the servants. Aunt Xue spoke next:
‘This looks very much like a case of arsenic poisoning to me. We certainly don’t keep any arsenic in the house. Whoever it was that did this must have commissioned someone else to buy the poison in town. The truth will come out at the inquest. Well, we’d best tidy her up and lay her out properly now in readiness for the officer from the Board of Punishments.’
The old serving-women came forward, lifted Jin-gui up and laid her out.
‘With so many men about,’ said Bao-chai, ‘you had better clear away all those women’s knick-knacks.’
As they were tidying up, a little crumpled paper package came to light beneath the mattress on the kang. Jin-gui’s mother spotted it and picked it up to inspect it more closely. It was empty and she threw it down again. Moonbeam saw it, however, and cried out:
‘Look! There’s evidence! I recognize that package. A few days ago we were having a lot of trouble with mice, and when Mrs Pan went on one of her trips home, she asked her brother to buy some poison. It was in that package. I remember her putting it away in one of her jewellery boxes when she got back. Caltrop must have seen it there and used it to poison Mrs Pan. If you don’t believe me, have a look in the jewellery box and see if there’s any left.’
Jin-gui’s mother did this. She opened the jewellery box, which was empty save for a few silver hairpins.
‘What has become of all her jewellery?’ said Aunt Xue in surprise.
Bao-chai told the servants to open the trunks and cupboards. All were empty.
‘Who could have taken all these things?’ she asked. ‘We had better question Moonbeam.’
Jin-gui’s mother seemed to become very apprehensive all of a sudden.
‘Why should Moonbeam know about my daughter’s things?’ she protested.
‘Come, ma’am,’ put in Zhou Rui’s wife, ‘that’s hardly a very sensible question. Miss Moonbeam was with Mrs Pan all the time. Of course she’d know.’
Moonbeam could see she was cornered, and would have to tell the truth:
‘Madam used to take things with her whenever she went home. There was nothing I could do about it.’
A roar of indignation burst from the Xue camp:
‘So that’s it! Really, Mrs Xia! A fine mother you are! You talk your daughter into stealing our things; and then when the supply runs out, you force her to commit suicide so that you can blackmail us! They’ll be very interested to hear that at the inquest!’
‘Go outside,’ said Bao-chai, ‘and tell Mr Lian that the Xias must on no account be allowed to leave.’
Jin-gui’s mother was now in a state of extreme trepidation, and cursed Moonbeam roundly:
‘You little hussy! You scandal-monger! When did my daughter ever steal any of their things?’
‘Stealing’s nothing,’ retorted Moonbeam coolly, ‘compared to murder; and I don’t mean to let myself be called a murderer in order to cover up for a thief.’
‘If we can find the missing things, we’ll know who the murderer is,’ said Bao-qin. ‘Someone quickly go and find Lian. He can ask that Xia fellow about the buying of the arsenic. They’ll want to know about that at the inquest.’
Jin-gui’s mother began to panic:
‘Moonbeam must be possessed to speak such nonsense! When did my daughter ever buy arsenic? If you ask me, it was Moonbeam herself!’
‘That’s going too far!’ cried Moonbeam wildly. ‘I’m not taking that – not from you! Why, it was the two of you who were always telling Mrs Pan to stand up for her rights! It was you who advised her to make life unbearable for Mr Pan’s family, and then, when they were ruined, to walk off with every last button in the house and find herself a decent husband! Do you deny that?’
Before Jin-gui’s mother could reply, Zhou Rui’s wife cried with glee:
‘Denounced by one of your own servants! Well, what have you got to say for yourself now?’
Jin-gui’s mother cursed Moonbeam again, and gnashing her teeth said bitterly:
‘Haven’t I treated you well? Are you trying to drive me to the grave? At the inquest, I shall testify that it was you who did it!’
Moonbeam glared at her angrily and then turned to Mrs Xue:
‘Please release Caltrop, ma’am. There’s no sense in harming an innocent person like this. I shall tell the whole truth at the inquest.’
Bao-chai immediately instructed the servants to release Moonbeam instead, and said:
‘Come on, Moonbeam, you’ve always been a straightforward girl. Don’t let yourself get involved in underhand dealings. You’ll only suffer for it. If you’ve something to say, then go ahead and say it. Tell us the truth, and the whole affair can be cleared up once and for all.’
Moonbeam was terrified of being tortured at the inquest, and finally gave in:
‘Every day Mrs Pan used to complain about the way life had treated her. “Why was I born to such á stupid mother?” she’d say. “Instead of showing me some sense and marrying me to Master Ke, she went and chose his half-baked booby of a cousin! I’d gladly die if I could only spend one day with Master Ke!” And then she’d always say how she hated Caltrop. I didn’t pay much attention at first, and later when I began to notice how friendly she was being to Caltrop I supposed that Caltrop must have somehow earned her way back into her good books. I thought Mrs Pan made the soup for her as a kind gesture. Then I discovered that she had something quite different in mind! Something horrible!’
‘That makes no sense at all!’ interrupted Jin-g
ui’s mother. ‘If you are implying that she intended to do away with Caltrop, then how do you account for the fact that she ended up swallowing the poison herself?’
Bao-chai turned to Caltrop:
‘You tell us what happened yesterday, Caltrop. Did you drink any of the soup?’
‘A few days ago,’ began Caltrop, ‘when I was so ill that I could hardly lift my head, Mrs Pan offered to bring me some soup. I didn’t dare refuse, and I was struggling to sit up when she had an accident on the way and spilt the soup all over the floor. It was a lot of trouble for her, cleaning it all up, and I felt very bad to have been the cause of it. Then yesterday she offered me some soup again, and though I didn’t think I’d ever be able to swallow any of it, I decided I ought to try. I was just getting ready to drink some when I started feeling dizzy. I vaguely remember seeing Moonbeam clear the soup away, and thinking to myself what a relief it was not to have to drink any. But then, just as I was dozing off again, Mrs Pan came over and asked me to try some after all. She was drinking a bowl herself. I tried my hardest and managed to swallow a few mouthfuls.’
‘There you are!’ cried Moonbeam, hardly giving Caltrop time to finish. ‘Now let me complete the picture for you. Yesterday Mrs Pan told me to make two bowls of soup, one for her and one for Caltrop. I was pretty fed up, that Caltrop should be thought important enough for me to have to wait on her. So I deliberately put an extra dollop of salt in one of the bowls, and made a secret mark on the side, intending to give that bowl to Caltrop. As soon as I had brought the soup in, Mrs Pan told me to go and send the boys for a carriage, as she was planning to go home on a visit. I went out, and when I’d done my errand I came back to find Mrs Pan sitting with the salty bowl in front of her. I was afraid that if she tasted how salty it was she would be very cross with me. I was wondering what to do, when luckily Mrs Pan left the room for a moment to relieve herself, and I was able to change the bowls round. It must have been fated that I should do so. When Mrs Pan came back, she took the salty soup to Caltrop’s bedside and begged her to try some, drinking some from her own bowl (the one originally intended by her for Caltrop) at the same time. Caltrop didn’t seem to notice the salt, and they both finished their bowls. I was laughing to myself, thinking what a rough palate Caltrop must have. I didn’t realize then that Mrs Pan had plotted to poison Caltrop and had sprinkled arsenic in her soup while I was out of the room. And then later while she was outside, I changed the bowls round. And she never noticed. As the saying goes:
It all fell out as Providence planned;
The sinner died by her own hand!’
They pondered the details of Moonbeam’s story, and it impressed them as both plausible and consistent. Caltrop was duly released, and they helped her back into bed.
Jin-gui’s mother, meanwhile, growing more and more fearful with every minute, was racking her brains for some way of rebutting Moonbeam’s accusations. After a good deal of discussion Aunt Xue and the other members of the family concluded that under the circumstances Xia San was the one who should be held responsible, as Jin-gui’s accomplice. They were still debating heatedly how to deal with the matter when they heard Jia Lian call from outside:
‘No more chatter! Get the place looking decent. The officer from the Board is on his way.’
Mrs Xia and her son were frantic. It seemed inevitable that they would come out badly at the inquest. At last Mrs Xia begged Aunt Xue:
‘Please accept my humble apologies. It seems my daughter was misguided in her ways, and that she has met the end she deserved. If there is an inquest, it will look bad for your family too. I beg you to let the matter drop!’
‘That is out of the question!’ objected Bao-chai. ‘It has already been reported. We can’t let it drop now.’
Mrs Zhou offered her services as a mediator:
‘The only way the matter could be dropped would be if Mrs Xia herself were to go forward and ask them to dispense with the inquest. In that case we wouldn’t raise any objections.’
Xia San, who was being held outside, agreed after a certain amount of intimidation from Jia Lian to intercept the officer and make a written request for suspension of the inquest. The others all approved this course of action. Aunt Xue gave orders for a coffin to be purchased and for all the other funeral arrangements to be seen to. But at this point our narrative turns elsewhere.
Jia Yu-cun had recently been promoted to the post of Mayor of the Metropolitan Prefecture, with additional duties as Collector of Taxes. He went out one day on a tour of inspection of the agricultural area newly brought under cultivation, and his route took him through the shire of Innsite. When he came to the riverside hamlet of Rushford Hythe, he halted his sedan at the water’s edge and waited for his servants to catch up with him, when they would all take the ferry to the other side. He noticed a small broken-down temple on the outskirts of the village, with a few gnarled old pine-trees poking their branches up through the ruins. Stepping down from his sedan, he wandered over at a leisurely pace and strolled into the temple. The gilt was peeling from the statues, and the courtyard was in a state of extreme dilapidation. At one side stood a broken stone tablet with a worn and barely legible inscription. Yu-cun was crossing the rear courtyard towards the back hall of the temple when he saw, in the shade of a cypress tree, a lean-to shed with a thatched roof, and inside the shed a Taoist monk, seated with his eyes closed, deep in meditation. Going closer and gazing into the man’s face, Yu-cun was struck by a strange familiarity, a feeling of having seen him somewhere before – though where he could not for the moment recall. His attendants were about to wake the Taoist rudely from his meditations, but Yu-cun stopped them and, advancing respectfully, addressed him with the words:
‘Venerable Master!’
The Taoist opened both eyes a slit and gave a faint smile.
‘What brings you here, sir?’
‘A tour of inspection has led me to these parts,’ replied Yu-cun. ‘Seeing your reverence so rapt in meditation, and deducing from this the profundity of your spiritual attainments, I most humbly crave from you some words of truth.’
‘There is ever a whence, and always a whither.’
Yu-cun sensed something very mysterious about the old man. Making a deep bow, he enquired:
‘From which monastery does your reverence hail? What is the name of this temple where you have made your hermitage? How many live here? If it is a life of pure contemplation that you seek, surely one of the sacred mountains would be a more conducive dwelling place? And if it is good works that you wish to perform, would not the busy thoroughfare be more appropriate?’
‘A bottle-gourd is ample for my needs,’ replied the Taoist. ‘Why build my hut on some famous mountain? As for this temple, only a crumbling tablet of stone remains to point to its long-forgotten origins. And why should I strive to do good works, when body and shadow suffice? I am no “jewel in the casket” biding “till one should come to buy”, no “jade-pin in the drawer hid, waiting its time to fly”.’
Yu-cun had always been a smart fellow. The reference to ‘the bottle-gourd’ and to his own couplet (written when he had been a poor lodger at the Bottle-gourd Temple in Soochow) at once brought to mind his neighbour from days gone by, old Zhen Shi-yin. Scrutinizing the Taoist again, he recognized him and saw that his old benefactor’s face had not changed. He dismissed his attendants.
‘Tell me the truth, sir,’ he enquired confidentially, when they were alone. ‘Are you not old Mr Zhen?’
A faint smile crossed the old man’s face.
‘What is truth, and what fiction? You must understand that truth is fiction, and fiction truth.’
Yu-cun’s certainty was increased by the fact that the old man’s words contained a pun on their names, Zhen being homophonous with ‘truth’, and Jia with ‘fiction’. He bowed afresh and said:
‘When your great generosity enabled me to travel to the capital, I enjoyed good fortune, and thanks to your blessing obtained the highest distinction in my
examinations and was appointed to the very district to which you yourself had moved. That was where I first learned that you had achieved enlightenment and had renounced the world, to soar in the realm of the immortals. Although I sought anxiously to trace your whereabouts, in the end I came to the conclusion that a common layman such as myself, soiled with the dust of this mortal world, would never be granted another chance to behold your holy face. How blessed I am indeed to have encountered you again! I beg you, holy sir, to relieve my benighted ignorance. If you deign to accede to my request, allow me to provide for you and accommodate you in my humble abode close by in the capital, that I may derive daily benefit from your wisdom.’
The Taoist rose to his feet and returned the bow.
‘Beyond my prayer-mat,’ he replied, ‘I know nothing. Of what Your Honour has just spoken I have understood not a single word.’
He resumed his sitting position. Yu-cun began to have misgivings.
‘But surely,’ he thought to himself, ‘it must be him? The face, the voice are so familiar! After these nineteen years his complexion is quite unchanged. It must be that he has achieved a high degree of spiritual cultivation, and is therefore reluctant to reveal his former identity. He considers himself a new man. But he is my benefactor. Now that I have found him again, I must think of some way to show my gratitude. If material things cannot move him, still less I suppose will any mention of his wife and child.’