Chapter 9

The cook monk heard faint bubbling sounds coming from the closed kitchen. Which starving monk has gone in to rummage for food now? he wondered.

Ever since the treasure enshrined in the Many-Treasures Pagoda had been stolen and the Lotus Flower Temple sealed, all the monks had been confined within its grounds, unable to move freely. This renowned temple, built during the Northern and Southern Dynasties, had become a high-security prison. Every monk with access to the Many-Treasures Pagoda had been arrested as a suspect. Though the rest were forbidden to leave, they could still practice within the temple as usual.

The monks believed themselves innocent. Surely, if they held fast and waited, the truth would rise to the surface. Yet two days later, all the rice, flour, and vegetables stored in the temple ran out, and the authorities refused to let them go out to buy more.

"Let them go hungry for a few days and reflect on their sins. They'll have something to eat when Baozhu is found."

So said the yamen guards. The order had come from some high-ranking, powerful official; they could only obey and dared make no allowances. Unless the culprit came forward and confessed, not a single person could be released.

The Lotus Flower Temple was a large monastery. Including the itinerant monks staying there, it housed more than a hundred and fifty monks and ordinarily kept substantial food reserves. But the Unrestricted Vegetarian Feast held for Guanyin's Enlightenment Day had consumed most of them, leaving little in storage. Moreover, the temple stood within the city, while its fields and vegetable plots lay out in the countryside, beyond their reach now.

The monks, who ordinarily wanted for neither food nor clothing, suddenly panicked. Yet even the abbot, Liaoru, dared not leave the Abbot's Quarters to plead their case. Who else could appeal on their behalf?

By today, they had gone hungry for nearly three days. The cook monk felt weak and limp all over. At least the temple has a well, he thought. They say a man can last ten days or half a month as long as he has water. We won't starve to death straightaway. Those who had not been taken away for torture had thought themselves fortunate, never imagining that an even crueler torment lay ahead. If the treasure was never found, would they all starve to death within these walls?

The entire temple had already been thoroughly searched several times. Yesterday, they had divided and eaten every offering before the Buddha; even old grains of rice dropped in corners had been ferreted out and swallowed. Where could any food remain? Even the rats had probably moved away from hunger. The monk in charge of the main hall was reportedly beginning to eye the Beeswax Incense Candles.

Hearing the sounds in the kitchen, the cook monk's legs felt weak and sore. He had no desire to bother with this fruitless attempt at theft, but there was still firewood and straw inside. If a fire broke out, the blame would fall on him. Sighing, he dragged his heavy legs over and opened the kitchen door.

"There's nothing to eat. Stop looking..." he called feebly. The kitchen, once bustling with activity, stood empty. There was not a soul inside.

A wisp of blue smoke rose from the great frying cauldron in the middle of the kitchen, and the fire beneath it blazed fiercely. This iron cauldron was used to prepare the Lotus Flower Temple's famous vegetarian dishes. As large as a bathtub, it could hold entire mock chickens and ducks for frying. The tiny scraps settled at its bottom had already been scooped out and eaten. Now only a cauldron of clear oil remained.

The cook monk assumed someone had grown so delirious with hunger that he meant to drink the oil. "Drinking oil straight will give you the runs," he muttered. "You'll lose even the grease in your gut. That's a terrible bargain."

Even as he spoke, however, he caught a strange smell. Beneath a powerful, rank stench lay the aroma of meat. This was no vegetarian dish, but actual flesh.

Has someone caught a stray cat or dog and cooked it here? Such a breach of the precepts ought to be reported to the Monastery Supervisor at once, but the smell of food was like an invisible chain fastened to the starving monk, drawing him helplessly toward the cauldron. Silently begging forgiveness for his sin, he involuntarily lifted the lid...

Inside the great iron cauldron, a human head, fried golden brown, bobbed and rolled in the boiling oil.

The cook monk screamed wildly. His vision went black, and he toppled backward.

Late that afternoon, Bao Lang formally presented his visiting card and called on Yang Xingjian in his capacity as Cui Keyong's special envoy and Defense Commissioner. He specifically requested that Yang Xingjian's beloved daughter, Lady Yang, attend as well.

After reading the card, Yang Xingjian sighed. "Good fortune leans upon calamity; calamity lurks within good fortune. Whether this brings blessing or disaster, there's no avoiding it now."

Baozhu saw that the handwriting was barely formed, careless and ugly, yet every stroke bristled like a drawn sword or bent bow, slashing horizontally and hacking vertically. It seemed the work of a military officer and offered a glimpse of the writer's temperament. "What office is this Defense Commissioner?" she asked. "There doesn't seem to be one in the capital."

Yang Xingjian's worried expression did not ease. "It's an office found only among the subordinates of regional military governors, responsible for enforcing military law and punishment. Anyone who can subdue all the army's ruffians and villains must be ruthless. Fang... Fang Xie should preserve her dignity. It would be best not to appear."

Baozhu knew that this was the man controlling their confinement in the County Yamen's private quarters. Curious, she rather wanted to meet him and see just how many heads and legs he had.

"It doesn't matter," she said. "Whether we meet him or not, he won't let us leave. Only by judging the enemy can we prevail. I've never met him face-to-face, so I can hardly devise a countermeasure."

Seeing her resolve, Yang Xingjian could only agree, inwardly admiring her. Though Princess Wanshou had grown up deep within the palace, she had trained in martial arts, and her courage truly set her apart from ordinary palace women.

Even as a young child, the princess had loved riding and archery. To please her, His Majesty had overruled all objections and ordered renowned masters to instruct her carefully. The Great Tang had outstanding generals and fierce warriors in abundance; whenever they returned to Chang'an for an imperial audience, they would be invited to teach her a move or two. He had raised a little Lady Li, even taking her along on his imperial inspection tours. Such favor had astonished court and country alike.

Yet this lavishly favored Noble Princess had been buried alive in the Underground Palace because of an unspeakable conspiracy and reduced to such miserable circumstances. That she still possessed the courage to go alone to Youzhou in search of her family showed what an openhearted young woman she was.

After Baozhu and Yang Xingjian finished discussing the matter, the two sides agreed to meet that evening at Xu Hour.

Though Yang Xingjian held sixth rank, he carried a Silver Fish Bag. By the unwritten rules of officialdom, he should therefore receive the courtesies accorded to upper fifth rank.

When Wu Zhiyuan arranged the seating by precedence, Bao Lang displayed humility for once and placed himself second. He sat in the hall with the officials of Xiagui County, waiting for Yang Xingjian to appear. As footsteps approached from the inner quarters and a servant lifted the bamboo curtain, they all rose courteously.

Yang Xingjian emerged in a dark green official robe with a silver belt, walking with the measured, square steps of an official. He had replaced his soft-wrapped headcloth with a stiff, winged one, popularly known as a black gauze cap. Once inside, he stepped aside to clear the way. Pendants chimed, a gauze skirt fluttered, and a delicate fragrance drifted through the air as a beautiful girl in a pale yellow blouse and skirt slowly entered from behind the bamboo curtain.

Without greeting anyone, she crossed the hall with her gaze fixed ahead, as though no one else were present, and walked straight to the central seat of honor. Gracefully gathering her skirt, she prepared to sit, then suddenly seemed to remember something and hurriedly straightened. Pretending to wipe the chair with her sleeve in place of a handkerchief, she returned to Yang Xingjian's side, took his arm, and invited him to sit.

"Father, please sit here."

Stiff and awkward, Yang Xingjian nodded and sat as she requested, though his backside barely touched the edge of the chair. This will shorten my life, he kept murmuring. The girl in yellow stood beside him with her hands tucked into her sleeves, attending him like any dutiful daughter in the world.

The interaction between father and daughter was exceedingly subtle, but Bao Lang caught it keenly. Unable to understand it for the moment, he gave an intrigued smile. Magistrate Wu Zhiyuan noticed that Lady Yang was wearing the Gold and Silver Jewelry he had sent her. Greatly reassured, he felt considerable admiration for his wife's suggestion.

Though they were as incompatible as fire and water, each harboring secret designs, they still exchanged affected pleasantries. Bao Lang smiled and made polite conversation, while Wu Zhiyuan, Hao Jin, and the others who had witnessed him kill felt their hair stand on end. They kept expecting him to rise, draw his saber, and start cutting people down.

Finally face-to-face with the man responsible for their confinement, Yang Xingjian could not help looking him over.

The young Defense Commissioner appeared twenty-seven or twenty-eight. He wore a black, round-collared robe with side slits and a subtle embroidered Xiezhi pattern, leather guards around both wrists, and a three-foot Horizontal Saber in a sharkskin sheath hanging from his Dieliexie Belt. Vigorous and striking, with sharply defined features, he had eyes like cold lightning. Even while smiling and exchanging insincere courtesies, he exerted an overpowering pressure.

Standing among the civil officials, this military officer possessed a distinctly unusual presence. Enemy though he was, Yang Xingjian could not help inwardly admiring his extraordinary appearance.

"So the man who forcibly 'invited' my daughter and me to the County Yamen as 'guests' is Special Envoy Bao Lang," he said coldly. "Truly, the young know neither the height of heaven nor the depth of earth."

"You're too kind, Master Yang," Bao Lang said with a smile. "The thief stole the pearl and committed murder. His skills are formidable, and he is an extremely dangerous criminal. Having you and your daughter stay temporarily at the County Yamen is an extraordinary measure for extraordinary circumstances, but it is also a sincere attempt to protect you."

"Special Envoy, you accused my runaway servant of the crime solely on the strength of a message delivered by a flying knife, from a dubious source," Yang Xingjian said icily. "That seems rather hasty."

"You're quite right, Master Yang," Bao Lang replied humbly. "That is why I spent the entire day in the Prison Ward myself, digging a few clues out of men with connections to the martial world..."

Hearing him brush it aside so casually, Magistrate Wu Zhiyuan felt a chill down his back. He had signed several more reports of deaths under torture that day and had not dared inspect the bodies himself. Bao Lang's methods were far more efficient than those of the jailers.

"As far as I know," Bao Lang continued, "this Green-Clothed Slave is very likely a mysterious master thief known in the martial world as the 'Green-Robed Wanderer.' His martial prowess is extraordinary, his movements elusive, and theft his greatest specialty. If anyone could steal Baozhu from the sealed Many-Treasures Pagoda, it would be him."

"If this whatever-you-call-him is a famous martial expert, why would he willingly conceal his name and become a servant doing odd jobs?" Yang Xingjian retorted. "Bandits had already taken all my carriages, horses, and possessions. All I had left was a donkey and a few strings of loose cash, as you all saw. There was truly nothing worth coveting. Could he possibly steal my Fish Tally and appointment document and become an official himself? The man I hired was merely an ordinary refugee. Now that he has fled, he has nothing whatsoever to do with my daughter or me. Stop making wild accusations."

"In truth, until I entered just now, I couldn't understand it either," Bao Lang said with a smile. "Only after seeing your beloved daughter in person tonight did my doubts clear." Every eye turned toward him as he enunciated each word. "An ordinary woman abducted and sold into servitude fetches only a few dozen strings of cash. But a woman of Lady Yang's beauty could not be bought for less than a thousand gold pieces."

At this blatant insult, Yang Xingjian's fury blazed sky-high. He slammed the table, pointed at Bao Lang, and thundered, "Insolence! You Liao slave, how dare you speak so outrageously! Don't you know disaster comes out of the mouth?"

Untroubled by the abuse, Bao Lang replied mildly, "You have a discerning eye, Master Yang. I do indeed have a little Liao blood."

"Liao" was a contemptuous term used by the Great Tang's central plains population for remote ethnic minorities, and a vicious insult. Bao Lang's frank acceptance left Yang Xingjian stunned. He rose, intending to shield his beloved daughter and leave, only to see that "Yang Fangxie" remained perfectly composed, showing no sign of offense. Their eyes met, and Yang Xingjian could only swallow his anger. With a cold snort, he sat down again.

Bao Lang clasped his hands in apology, then continued his aggressive account. "It was never my intention to offend your beloved daughter, Master Yang. This man must have coveted Lady Yang's beauty, which was why he concealed himself at your side, awaiting an opportunity. Once he reached Xiagui County and discovered that the military governor's Baozhu was worth still more—a treasure worth entire cities—he changed his target and fled. Afterward, he colluded with Luo Chengye, the pagoda's guard, to steal Baozhu, then killed him in his home during a dispute over the spoils."

At the phrase "a Baozhu worth still more—a treasure worth entire cities," "Yang Fangxie" did not grow angry. Instead, she chuckled and asked, "May I ask, Special Envoy, what is so remarkable about the military governor's Baozhu?"

Bao Lang had thought that, once he pierced this paper window, the girl might become unbearably ashamed or frightened enough to waver. He had not expected this response. "It is an enormous pearl, one inch and two tenths across," he answered. "It glows at night-a treasure seldom seen in this world."

"One inch and two tenths is hardly enormous," "Yang Fangxie" said with an airy smile. "But a pearl that gives off light is something I've never heard of. People say it was obtained when someone in Xuzhou killed a white snake three zhang long. How much truth is there in that rumor?"

Bao Lang stared intently at Yang Fangxie, studying her, and she calmly stared right back without a trace of fear. He was secretly astonished. Even men would avert their eyes under his gaze out of weakness or dread. Not only was this girl unafraid, she dared glare back. Such courage was rare.

He smiled slightly and answered in a firm, ringing voice. "The rumor is true. This Baozhu was indeed obtained by killing a white snake. And that someone in Xuzhou who killed it was none other than myself."

The declaration stunned the entire room. Wu Zhiyuan and the others had naturally heard the legendary story of the pearl's origin, but had only half believed it, dismissing it as a strange folk tale. They had never imagined that the man of legend stood before them. Remembering Bao Lang's extraordinary skill when he killed-so swift that they could not even see him draw his saber-they realized he certainly possessed the ability to slay a giant serpent. Awe now mingled with the fear in the officials' eyes.

"Yang Fangxie" seemed startled as well. Staring at Bao Lang, she said coldly, "You speak with supreme pride of this extraordinary encounter, Special Envoy. Are you comparing yourself to the legend of Emperor Gaozu of Han slaying the white snake? As a military governor's subordinate, stationed beyond distant mountains and rivers, have you forgotten that this realm belongs to the Li house of Tang?"

Hearing the princess's question, Yang Xingjian inwardly applauded. So young and so arrogant-he deserves a blow squarely to the head, a proper hammering, and a demand to know whether he harbors a wolf's ambition to usurp the realm.

Sure enough, Bao Lang dared not meet her attack. He immediately rose and clasped his hands to explain himself. "Your words are too grave, my lady. How could I dare such arrogance? Baozhu is to be respectfully presented to the reigning emperor."

Only then did "Yang Fangxie" give a cold laugh and cease questioning him.

Seeing the awkward atmosphere, Wu Zhiyuan hurriedly found another topic. "Would you both kindly describe the Green-Clothed Slave's appearance in detail," he asked respectfully, "so an artist can draw his likeness for the wanted notices? If he is the thief and murderer, all the better. If not, recovering Master Yang's runaway servant would still be a good deed."

Stroking his beard and swaying his head in recollection, Yang Xingjian said, "He was twenty-seven or twenty-eight, with thick, sword-shaped eyebrows, a long, dark face, and a fairly tall build. Nothing else particularly noteworthy."

Wu Zhiyuan's awkward smile froze. Yang Xingjian had practically described Bao Lang himself. Apparently there was no need to summon an artist. The Yang Father and Daughter were both seething over their treatment and clearly had no intention of cooperating with the manhunt.

After this clash of verbal spears and swords, the Yang father and daughter had gained a slight advantage. Strangely, given Bao Lang's temperament, he had not flown into a rage and turned hostile on the spot.

"Even if this Green-something Wanderer really exists," Yang Xingjian continued, "if he can climb a twenty-zhang pagoda to steal the pearl, he can scale the city walls. While you search the entire city, that master thief may already have carried the pearl far away, vanished without a trace. What purpose does it serve to keep my daughter and me detained?"

"No," Bao Lang declared. "He absolutely has not escaped."

"What makes you so sure?" Yang Xingjian asked with a sneer.

Bao Lang clapped his hands. Two personal guards carried in a silver-clad copper platter three feet across. It belonged to Magistrate Wu Zhiyuan. At the welcoming banquet he had hosted for Bao Lang, this very platter had carried the whole-calf dish called Water-Boiled Calf, with a matching silver-clad copper lid to keep it warm.

When the guards brought it in, Wu Zhiyuan therefore assumed it contained a late-night snack. Bewildered and uneasy, he could not fathom Bao Lang's intention.

Bao Lang approached the platter and lifted the lid himself. Everyone looked closely and saw a pitch-black mass inside, portions of which seemed to resemble a human nose and eyes.

Wu Zhiyuan's heart pounded wildly. Trembling, he asked, "Special Envoy, what is this?"

Bao Lang slowly pronounced each word. "Luo Chengye's deep-fried head, discovered today in the kitchen of the Lotus Flower Temple."

Everyone blanched. Tables and chairs were knocked askew with a crash as they scrambled to their feet and backed away. Before Yang Xingjian could shield his daughter, Bao Lang finally saw terror appear on the girl's lovely face. He gave a cold smile of triumph.

The meeting broke apart in bitter discord. Yang Xingjian poured out curses, then swept away with his daughter under his protection.

Bao Lang, however, remained seated, and Wu Zhiyuan and the others dared not leave either. Filled with fear and nausea, they could only remain under the same roof as the head fried charred black.

County Commandant Hao Jin ordinarily handled public security and arrests and possessed some knowledge and courage. With great caution, he asked, "Special Envoy, this head has been fried... fried until the flesh separates and the face is unrecognizable. Is it really Luo Chengye?"

"A few strands of hair were caught in the gap beneath the lid and luckily escaped immersion in the hot oil," Bao Lang said. "Not many people have curls like Luo Chengye's, like a little lion dog's. Besides, has a second headless corpse appeared in a county town as small as Xiagui County?"

"Quite right, Special Envoy," Hao Jin hastily replied. "The Lotus Flower Temple has been sealed ever since the crime, with no one permitted in or out. Yet this master thief comes and goes at will, and even deliberately... deliberately threw the head into the frying cauldron to make it look like this. His hatred of Luo Chengye must run terribly deep."

Unable to bear it any longer, Magistrate Wu Zhiyuan meekly begged to have the head removed. Bao Lang nodded, and the guards carried the copper platter away to be stored where the coroner worked.

Bao Lang stared absently at his teacup for a while. After a long silence, he asked, "What do you gentlemen think of this Lady Yang?"

Wu Zhiyuan had spent the night trembling with dread and did not know what assessment would please him. Praise might anger Bao Lang, while disparagement would make him seem a shameless liar. He could only say, "She's a sharp-tongued young girl."

Bao Lang merely smiled dismissively at this superficial judgment. "The way father and daughter interact is truly unusual," he said slowly. "Among the three bonds and five constant virtues, the father is the guiding bond of the child. There is no principle in this world by which children outrank their fathers. Yet Yang Xingjian seems somewhat in awe of his daughter. That is very strange. Unless... unless her husband's status far surpasses her father's."

The Yang father and daughter had long since left, yet a faint, elusive fragrance still lingered wherever Yang Fangxie had passed, perceptible only to someone with exceptionally keen senses.

Bao Lang kept feeling that the scent was familiar. Yet whenever he tried to smell it carefully, it slipped silently from beneath his nose, leaving nothing tangible to grasp. Born among the rough and lawless, he could not distinguish dragons from snakes. He sat searching his memory for a long time but found no clue. At last, he rose and slowly paced outside.

The bright moon shone like frost, the lunar palace cold and unyielding. Recalling the girl in yellow's lofty, imperious air as she looked down upon them, he felt an irrepressible flicker of restlessness and excitement.

He murmured in a voice barely above a whisper, "Yang Fangxie. She is either the emperor's woman or Prince Shao's."