Hongzhi Year 18, Third Day of the Second Month.
That bottle of powder smashed yesterday, I felt bad all night. Not心疼 (heartache) the ingredients—honeysuckle, Bletilla, Notoginseng, Imperial Hospital warehouse not lacking. I felt bad for the time. Three days of mixing, hepa ji smashed it, like smashing a firecracker, didn't even say hello.
Morning changing his dressing, I didn't speak.
He didn't speak either.
Gauze wrapped to the third round, he suddenly spoke: "Still angry?"
"No."
"You gauze is strangling my flesh."
I looked down—indeed strangling. His wrist a white mark, like pinched by someone. I loosened, rewrapped.
"That bottle of powder," he said. "I'll pay you back later."
"Pay with what?"
"Money."
"I don't want money."
"Then what do you want?"
I tucked the gauze into the splint seam, looked up at him. "Next time don't smash. That was three days of medicine I mixed, for saving people, not for you acting cool."
He looked at me, blinked. "I wasn't acting cool."
"You smashed then stood in smoke smiling, what's that called if not acting cool?"
He opened mouth, couldn't reply. After a while, took a small porcelain bottle from sleeve, waved before my eyes.
"Stole from Leopard Room last night."
I paused. "What Leopard Room?"
"Joking." His mouth corner twitched up. "I mixed it myself. You said mixed three days, I thought, can't owe you three days."
I took it, opened to smell. Notoginseng, Bletilla, Honeysuckle—exactly same as mine.
"When did you learn to mix medicine?"
"Watched you enough." He rolled sleeve down, stood up. "Go, Qian Ning said news today."
I held that bottle, followed behind. Thinking, this person mouth no serious, but deeds done efficiently.
We met at a tavern in east city. Jiang Bin arrived first, stick leaning by table, plate of peanuts before him, throwing one by one into mouth, chewingga beng loud, like chewing human bones. Qian Ning sat opposite, fan on table, holding a cup of wine, not drinking, just smelling.
Zhu Houzhao sat down heavily, I sat next to him. Jiang Bin looked at me, then at Zhu Houzhao, mouth corner moved, wanting to speak then swallowed back.
Zhu Houzhao reached into plate, grabbed handful of peanuts, threw two in mouth,ga beng ga beng chewed.
"Mine." Jiang Bin glared.
"Yours is mine." Zhu Houzhao grabbed another handful.
Jiang Bin looked at his plate nearly empty, then at Zhu Houzhao, pushed plate his way.
"What news?" Zhu Houzhao asked while chewing.
Qian Ning put down wine cup, took a paper from sleeve, pushed to table center.
"Found Wang De."
Zhu Houzhao took paper, glanced. East city, Liu Lane, No. 17. He folded paper, tucked in sleeve, grabbed another peanut.
"Alive?"
"Alive." Qian Ning said. "But dare not show head. Hiding at friend's house, dare not go out door."
"Why?"
"Because someone wants to kill him." Qian Ning picked up cup, sipped. "Yesterday you made that scene at teahouse, Wang Chang went back, scolded Wang De till dog blood sprayed head. Scolded then sent people to 'fetch' him—said fetch, actually send off."
Jiang Bin threw last peanut in mouth, chewedga beng once. "Send where?"
"Send to King Yama."
Zhu Houzhao didn't speak, looking at Qian Ning.
"How did you find him?" he asked.
Qian Ning smiled. "This city, I have a few friends."
"Your friend reliable?" Jiang Bin looked at him sideways.
"More reliable than you." Qian Ning didn't even lift eyelid.
Jiang Bin's hand pressed onto stick. Zhu Houzhao looked at him, he let go, went to grab peanuts—plate already empty. He looked at empty plate, then at Zhu Houzhao.
Zhu Houzhao took two peanuts from sleeve, threw to him. Jiang Bin caught, threw in mouth, chewed.
"Go see." Zhu Houzhao stood up.
Liu Lane at east city edge, narrow enough for one person. Moss growing on high wall roots both sides, wet, slippery stepping on it. Small door at lane end, door board cracked several seams, could see dark courtyard inside through cracks.
Zhu Houzhao raised hand to knock.Du, du, du. No answer.
He knocked three more times.
Door opened a crack, revealing one eye. That eye seeing Zhu Houzhao, shrank back, then leaned close to look both sides.
"Who?"
"Zhu Shou. Qian Ning's friend."
Door opened.
Wang De thinner than I imagined. Thirty-something, like a bamboo pole turned spirit, face no blood color, eye sockets sunken like poked two holes. Wearing a dirty long gown, collar shiny oily, don't know how many days unchanged.
Room pitch black, windows nailed shut with wooden boards, only door crack leaking light. Quilt spread on floor, next to it few dry steamed buns and a pot of water, buns already hard enough to smash walnuts. Air carrying sour smell, mixed with moldy smell,熏 (熏) ing people nauseous.
"You are Wang De?" Zhu Houzhao asked.
Wang De nodded, shrinking in corner, like a cat rained on, fur all collapsed.
"Fake medicine matter, how much do you know?"
Wang De's lips trembled. "I… I just a runner. Liu An told me go to Henghe Hall get goods, I went. I didn't know that was fake medicine—"
"You knew." Zhu Houzhao cut him off.
Wang De whole body stiffened.
"You took goods from Henghe Hall, price seventy percent lower than market. You knew it was dregs. You took kickback." Zhu Houzhao's voice not heavy, but every word like a nail. "Wang Chang told you do what, you did. You didn't ask what would happen to soldiers eating it."
Wang De shrank tighter. Lips trembling, fingers trembling too, whole body like winnowing rice.
"I… I didn't want to harm people… I just…"
"Just what?"
"Just need money." Wang De's voice thin as mosquito hum. "Old mother sick at home, younger brother need marry wife, I…"
He didn't finish.
Jiang Bin leaning on door frame, stick poking ground,du, du, du, like urging life. Qian Ning standing by window, fan tucked in sleeve, looking at Wang De, like looking at worthless old goods.
Zhu Houzhao squatted down, eye-level with Wang De.
"Wang De," he said. "You know Wang Chang wants to kill you?"
Wang De's eyes suddenly widened. "What?"
"Yesterday he sent people to 'fetch' you. Not fetch, silence."
Wang De's face went from white to gray, gray with green, like moldy bun. He opened mouth, couldn't speak, throat gurgled, like swallowed a fly.
"I can protect you." Zhu Houzhao said. "But you must do one thing for me."
Wang De looked at him, eyes carrying something—not gratitude, but drowning person grabbing last straw, didn't care if straw round or flat.
"What thing?"
"Write down what you know. Who told you do it, when did it, how much took, who above." Zhu Houzhao took a paper and charcoal pencil from sleeve, placed before Wang De. "Finish writing, I protect you."
Wang De staring at that paper, hand trembling like winnowing rice. He picked up charcoal pencil, put down.
"I write, they kill my whole family."
"You don't write, Wang Chang also kills your whole family." Zhu Houzhao's voice still flat. "Write, I protect you."
"How you protect?"
Zhu Houzhao looked at him, suddenly took a peanut from sleeve, threw in mouth, chewed twice.
"You have no choice."
Wang De looked at him, then at me, at Jiang Bin, at Qian Ning. Then he picked up charcoal pencil, started writing.
Pen tip on papersha sha sounding, like rat gnawing wall root. He wrote slow, sometimes stopped thinking long time, sometimes hand trembling couldn't hold pen.
Outside door suddenly footsteps.Du, du, du—not Jiang Bin's stick, but person walking sound.
Wang De's face went white. "Wang Chang's people—"
Zhu Houzhao stood up, hand pressing short knife at waist. Jiang Bin's stick lifted from ground, horizontal before body. Qian Ning's fan stopped fanning.
Footsteps passed. Neighbor courtyard someone cursing chicken: "Cluck cluck cluck, cluck your head!"
Wang De collapsed on ground, panting heavily.
Zhu Houzhao squatted back, pushed paper before him. "Continue."
Wang De picked up pen, continued writing. Wrote for time of an incense stick.
Finished, he handed paper over, hand still trembling.
Zhu Houzhao took it, glanced. Paper densely packed, all names, dates, numbers. Liu An, Wang Chang, Henghe Hall, a Vice Minister of Revenue, an Imperial Hospital Deputy Director—and several names I didn't know.
"Just these?" Zhu Houzhao asked.
"Just these." Wang De's voice weak like floating from well bottom. "People above, I only know this much. Further up, I truly don't know."
Zhu Houzhao folded paper, tucked in sleeve. Stood up, looked down at Wang De.
"You rest assured, I send people to watch you."
Wang De nodded, shrank back to corner, hugging knees, like a rained-on small animal, pitiful.
We walked out of lane. Sky dusk, street lanterns lighting up one by one, orange-red light on ground, like spilled syrup.
Zhu Houzhao walked front, pace neither fast nor slow. I trotted two steps to catch up.
"You think what he wrote true?" I asked.
"Not entirely true."
"Where false?"
"He said don't know who above." Zhu Houzhao's voice very flat. "He knows. But dare not write."
"Why?"
"Because person above, much bigger than Wang Chang."
I paused. "That one Li Dongyang said?"
Zhu Houzhao didn't answer. He stopped under a lantern, orange-red light on his face, eyes bright like cat.
"Lizi," he suddenly called me. "You say, if a person knows what he does will kill people, still does it. What is he?"
I thought. "Depends what he wants."
"Wants money."
"Then that's murder."
He looked at me, mouth corner twitched up. Not smile, but that "I think same as you" expression.
"Go," he said. "Go back."
I followed. Moonlight stretched two people's shadows very long, overlapping, indistinguishable whose was whose.
Walked a few steps, he suddenly took that small porcelain bottle from sleeve—the one given morning—waved before my eyes, like magic trick.
"Right, this powder," he said. "I熬 (熬) ed till late last night. Eyes熬 (熬) ed into rabbit."
"You already look like rabbit."
"How I look like?"
"Everywhere look like."
He turned back to look at me, mouth corner upturned. "Then you stay with rabbit, what are you?"
I thought. "Veterinarian."
He paused, then laughed. Not that mouth corner twitch light laugh, but real laugh sounding, tiger teeth showing.
"Veterinarian," he repeated. "Fine, veterinarian."
He turned back, continued walking. Pace lighter than before.
I held that bottle, followed behind. Walked a few steps, I added: "But next time don't smash. Smash again, I use you to mix medicine."
His shoulder twitched, didn't know if laughing or scared.
"Use me to mix what medicine?"
"Cure brain."
He didn't turn back, but I saw his ear tip red a small patch.
(End of Chapter 21)