Chapter 50

The New Year of the first year of Yong'an came, but neither the old lady nor Qi Qian'er kept it.

For one thing, the house had lost kin year after year, and each still wore mourning. For another, refugees fleeing famine keep only one thought, a mouthful to eat, and forget the days and the seasons.

They only said, it's New Year, it's New Year. Then the next day they'd see Madam Tao, hear her say it, and think, oh, so yesterday was New Year!

The truth was, to the old lady and Qi Qian'er every day already felt like New Year. Their kin were close, tucked away in the lane, and they wanted for nothing. Even the magpie had been fed round and fat. New Year, the old lady said, is for others to see. With no one watching, why keep it?

So they didn't keep it.

All through the first month the three of them leaned on one another. Chen Siniu and his wife hadn't come back, and Chen Scabby hadn't come back either. But the old lady's Stinky Melon, Stinky Egg and Stinky Bolt each sent her, from wherever they were, two strings of cash and fifteen jin of grain. The amount had been fixed beforehand in a letter, and it was handed to Meng Wanquan to carry.

Madam Qiao was gone from the house now, and not one scrap could be squeezed out of anyone. The old lady lived easy and content, ate two extra bowls a meal, and put on a good ten jin of flesh. Qi Qian'er's hair grew thick, her spirits rose, and she gave the old lady fine rice and flour every day, always in some new form.

The old lady's heart ached at the waste, and she nagged on and on, right up to the spring blossoming. This first year of Yong'an flew by. In a blink it was the start of the second, and all things came back to life.

At dawn one day Qi Qian'er carried the last of the elm-bark paste to Qingfeng. The old and young beggars sheltering at Mr. Qiu's house all came out together to kowtow to her.

Before, the beggars had stayed indoors, out of her sight. Now she saw them all at once, well over a hundred of them, and after all this time!

At first she'd sent fifty jin of elm-bark paste every three days, then two hundred. She'd stripped a whole stand of elm trees and felt bad for it. But looking now at the one or two hundred old and young before her, she thought again: so I've saved this many people. So I too can help others, and save lives.

And at that her heart grew easy.

Qi Qian'er didn't want to take the old ones' kowtows, but Mrs. Qiu stood in the doorway and said, smiling: "You, up on the roof, good soul! Take at least one from them, or none of us will ever be easy in our hearts."

The beggars smiled and chimed in, all of them: just so, just so!

So Qi Qian'er was made to stand on the roof and watch that great crowd knock their heads to her: children not as tall as her waist, white-haired old people, the maimed and the broken. She edged back two quiet steps, and in the end she still couldn't bring herself to take such honor.

When the beggars had all got up and shouldered their bedrolls to go, Qi Qian'er asked: "You're leaving?"

The white-haired old beggar at their head smiled: "Yes! We've hands and feet. We won't burden the good souls any longer!"

Then he drew from his breast a pair of ox-bone clappers, took the left half, held it up in both hands to Qi Qian'er, and said: "Good soul, don't scorn the poor thing, keep it as a token. If ever you're in trouble, any beggar you meet, show this board and he's yours to command..."

Qi Qian'er looked down at it. It was strung with little bronze bells, carved from ox-bone. The bone had gone ancient and cracked, oil-dark and glossy, heavy in her hand. Plainly a thing of some age. It was the old beggar's very livelihood. How could she take it?

But the old beggar knelt on and wouldn't rise. There was no help for it. Qi Qian'er sprang down off the roof and took the half of the ox-bone board.

Seeing her take it, the old beggar was overjoyed, turned, and offered the right half to Mrs. Qiu.

Mrs. Qiu took it freely and openly.

And so the beggars, the old helped and the young carried, went off together. Qi Qian'er's heart was full and she was near to tears, when from up ahead came a sudden clatter of bone-clappers and a beggars' ballad.

Those with boards raised their bronze-belled bone. Those without clapped and stamped. And one or two hundred voices strong, they sang it out and faded down the road:

The Hongshun years, the great famine years! The floods rose up and drowned your fields. The people scattered, their homes gone, the small folk out of work with nowhere to return. Leading the old and carrying the young they turned north, a thousand li of bare red earth, corpse laid on corpse! Dare we ask, old ones, where do you go? North to Yanjing to find the Emperor: to ask him why he cut the fish-canal, to ask him why he cast off his own children.

North they went, to Qingfeng! Ten thousand souls adrift with nothing to lean on, the hundred-year great winter twice as cold. Heaven's judgment, the city broken, a bitter freezing winter. Leap in the river, the river's iced over. Leap in the well, the well's run dry, you can't even die. All of them poor, no way to live. And then the cold rain and snow came down, two feet of flying snow to freeze the lonely and the poor, not even a broken mat to wrap a ruined body! I lift my head and cry to Heaven, the widowed, the orphaned, the alone, and not one door will take us. Leaning at a gate to pour out our boundless grief, and out of the east came the good soul Qiu!

The good soul Qiu, a man of Qingfeng! A house of poetry and rites, a house that heaps up virtue. A hundred years of incense, great offerings raised. The Purple Star Lord come down to the mortal dust! The Star Lord pitied the orphaned and the alone, and opened his gate to save the suffering! And the Jade Emperor pitied the Star Lord's hardship, and sent a lady down to the dust as well! The Elm-Tree Lady dwells at Baiquan, ten thousand years cultivating her fine immortal root. She heard the ten thousand below the mountain suffer, and peeled her own bark and cut her own flesh to help the Star Lord...

The more Qi Qian'er listened the more her face burned. She turned, sheepish, to Mrs. Qiu: "Aiyo, good day to you, Lady Star Lord!"

Mrs. Qiu snorted a laugh, and teased her back: "Aiyo! And to you, Elm-Tree Lady! Does the bark and flesh hurt?"

Qi Qian'er made a show of rubbing her arms and legs and sighed: "I'll want a bit of good food to nourish it back..."

That said, she shook the bone board, set the bells jangling every which way, and she and Mrs. Qiu broke out laughing together.

Yes, the spring-plum blooms, all things wake, and a person with breath in them can bear every bitterness under heaven.

As she shook it, Qi Qian'er saw there seemed to be words on the board, and looked closer: four large characters carved into it, The Ancestor Fan Collects His Debt.

Curious, she looked at Mrs. Qiu's half, and it read: The Confucian House Begs for Grain.

The two women looked at each other, none the wiser, and out of the door came Mr. Qiu, his eyes puffy and swollen.

Mr. Qiu looked off to where the sound had died away, sniffed, and said: "It's a thing from ages back. Who knows if it's even true. They say that long ago the Sage traveled the states with his disciples and was besieged and starving between Chen and Cai, and got through the famine only by borrowing rice from Fan Dan, the beggars' first ancestor. The two ancestors made a pact in those days, so we of the Confucian house must repay the debt to them, generation by generation..."

At that he reached out, took Mrs. Qiu's bone board, looked at the words, and smiled: "By the wear and the cracks, it does look like a genuine old thing. This Old Xin! Why give me a half? Heh, my Confucian house has repaid them one winter. Must I go on repaying next year too?"

Only then did Qi Qian'er learn that the head beggar was called Old Xin.

Having agreed with Mr. Qiu that if they were able they'd relieve the suffering again next winter, Qi Qian'er took to the rooftops for home, and to her surprise, the two fools of the Jiusi Hall were still there.

The little short one, Xie Liuhao, first gave her a shy smile, then murmured: "I said so, you're surely no ordinary person. And it turns out you really are an immortal!"

Zhou Wujiu clapped a hand to his forehead, helpless, then cupped his hands to her: "A hard winter it's been for you, miss. We were on duty, and put you to no end of trouble. Here, our apologies."

Qi Qian'er was in good spirits, and smiled: "From tomorrow I won't come anymore. And where are you two off to next?"

Xie Liuhao jumped in: "Immortal lady! Board of Works men are coming to Qingfeng any day now. There's no water source in the city, and everything's a bother, so they're moving out to the Quanhou manor side. We two have our new orders from the Hall as well. The dueling platform on the official notice is going up in the old city, and we'll be on watch there from now on..."

Qi Qian'er nodded and turned to go, but Zhou Wujiu said: "That bone board in your hand, miss, keep it very safe."

Qi Qian'er paused, held it up and gave it a shake: "This? Is there something to it?"

Xie Liuhao's eyes lit. He slapped his hands together and roared laughing at Zhou Wujiu: "Told you to test her! Told you to test her! See, I said she's no ordinary body! Doesn't even know the beggars' trade! You wouldn't believe me, she doesn't even know who Old Xin is!"

Zhou Wujiu shot him a look: "The good soul Qiu didn't know either. At most it means this miss truly isn't martial-world folk."

Qi Qian'er blinked, and asked, curious: "Old Xin? Isn't he just that old beggar?"

But Zhou Wujiu said: "You don't know, miss. Every trade in the world has its guild and its guild-head. Yanjing, for its face, would never let the beggars' head set up shop there, so the home port every beggar under heaven bows to is Qingfeng city, and Old Xin is the chief of them all..."

At that he looked at the ox-bone board with plain envy: "You've great luck, miss. Guard that thing well. Everyone in the martial world knows the beggars' trade holds two ancestral boards granted by the Ancestor Fan in the old days, and who'd have thought you and the good soul Qiu would come by one between you..."

Qi Qian'er was taken aback: "For one mouthful of elm-bark paste, he gave us half his whole worth?"

Zhou Wujiu's face went sad: "Five years of war, the land split north and south, White Stone Mountain fallen, the physicians of the world scattered. The Hongshun years bred a hundred thousand beggars, and one war turned them all to ash. Old Xin's people are the last breath of life in the beggars' trade. Your merit and the good soul Qiu's is beyond measure! We've given plenty of offense before. I beg you won't hold it against us, miss!"

All at once the board felt heavy as a thousand jin in Qi Qian'er's hand. She looked into the distance and drew a breath: "So that's how it is."

Then she turned and went hopping off out of sight.

Xie Liuhao gazed after her, full of worship: "Told you, she's an immortal!"

Zhou Wujiu wouldn't argue with a muddle-head, and only smiled: "Immortal or not, I couldn't say. A good soul, that she is. Let's go... yesterday wasn't wasted, at least. We did a bit of good."

"Mm!"

By the time Qi Qian'er got home, the morning sun was well up.

She opened the door as always and swept the yard, and as she tidied she thought: well, a legend's only a legend. I've been made into an immortal, and it turns out that in his last life the good soul Qiu was chief of the beggars, no wonder people everywhere are so good to him...

The thought amused her. Remembering she was one come down from the heavens, she put on a little airs in the yard, and had taken a few mincing steps like an immortal off a stage, when she heard something at the lane-mouth.

She stood blank a moment, then went to the gate and threw it wide open.

Before long came a clatter of hooves on the flagstones, and there was Chen Dasheng at the gate, talking to Chen Siniu?

"I'm home now! Fourth Uncle, go on back. I'll tidy myself first, then go to the old lady's court. The brothers have nowhere to eat tonight, and my house is busy too, so tomorrow I'll sit a while with you."

Outside, Chen Siniu's voice was stiff with restraint: "Very well. You've been away many days, go on. Uncle and nephew have time enough to spare!"

And so the donkey's hooves clopped off and the cart drew away, and Chen Dasheng took leave of his brothers, telling them again to come for dinner that evening.

Standing inside the gate, Qi Qian'er clicked her tongue. This Chen Scabby, arranging things for himself already?

At the thought she set her hands to her hips and stood watching the gate.

Chen Dasheng came in, and froze.

He saw a lovely girl: her black hair short, gathered in a little topknot, a burnt-silver orchid pin stuck in it, a matching pair of silver orchid drops swinging under her ears. She wore a tender-green rabbit-fur robe over the knee, a skirt of the same fur, and round her slim waist a length of plain figured palace-brocade, with a small pouch embroidered with birds hanging below it. Skin fair with red beneath, face unpainted, natural almond eyes and a jade of a nose, mouth a touch wide, teeth just now clenched, fine brows arched up. She, she? And the immortal girl was holding a great broom?

Chen Dasheng stood in the gate, dumbstruck.

This, his own wife? A few days apart and she'd grown taller? And grown this pretty?

Pretty, yes. But by the look of her, was she angry? Meaning to hit him?

Chen Dasheng swallowed, backed up to the gate, reached round and barred it, then sidled up to Qi Qian'er and said: "Wife?"

Qi Qian'er glared at the man before her, bristling with stubble, in an official's robe he'd somehow got looking like something dragged through a mud-field.

She gave a hmph: "What?!"

Mm... the tone, not too good! Angry, then?

Chen Dasheng stood there meekly and racked his brains over what he'd done lately.

In the end he told her, sure of it: "Wife, I did what you said! Not one rule broken! I, I don't even know what I did wrong." Then, furtive again, he looked all about, made sure it was safe, and slowly squatted down with his arms over his head: "So if you're angry, beat me a bit, on the quiet?"

That trick he'd learned from his grandfather.

His grandfather, in the old days, used to shut the door and take his beatings from grandmother.

This fool, he could turn her anger clean out of her!

With a sigh Qi Qian'er squatted too, reached out and caught that pig's ear, and scolded low: "It's the turn of spring, and even to have the brothers over to eat, you talk it over with me first! You may be a man, but you should know how many grains are left in the rice-jar and the flour-bin at home! Today's no matter, but tomorrow, when your brothers marry and set up house, how much salary have you, to feast people every day of the year?"

Chen Dasheng was a blunt sort. He looked up: "Didn't I give you the money?"

Qi Qian'er flared: "I have to have somewhere to buy it too!"

Having scolded, she remembered: common sense was common sense, but the food and drink at home had never run short, all on the strength of this fellow's face, while she was the one squandering it, the thief that scatters a household's goods, wasting the better half of it away.

But a woman is a woman. With no case at all she'll still work out three parts of one. She gave a hmph, stood up, and scolded on: "Look at the filthy state of you! Take your mud-horse to the stable and scrub it down first! I'll go heat you some water!"

That said she hurried off, and before long she'd opened the front gate-house room and had a great bath-cauldron going.

While she bustled to and fro, Chen Dasheng's blunt streak came out again. He saw how roomy the gate-house was, and one big cauldron of water looked so fine, mm, the whole world must be told how good his life was!

So he stood in the doorway, puffed up, and shouted: "Qingguan'r! Jintai... all of you come get a good scrub, your sister-in-law's heated the water!"

The words weren't half out when down from the far end of the lane came the old lady at a run.

The old lady ran wickedly fast. In one streak she was in front of Chen Dasheng, and her hand caught his ear square, and dragging him by it into the yard she began to scold: "Are you a fool! You're never home, your wife waits on me hand and foot, tends the magpie, sweeps this great yard till she's bent double, why don't you cherish her a little? Home for a moment and not only do you heat water for yourself, one word out of your mouth and it's six cauldrons! Do you take her for made of iron..."

The old lady hadn't finished when Yu Qingguan came cheerfully in with a bundle of clean clothes.

He greeted the old lady first, grandma, then called sister-in-law, then bright and brisk went straight into the bath-room. Hardly a moment in, he crowed: "Ah! Ha ha ha! A grand big cauldron, chief, get in here quick, we'll scrub each other's backs, that's the real pleasure!" Then a splash, and a long string of blissful sighs...

Chen Dasheng, come home to be set on left and right by wife and grandmother, was afraid of losing face. He bowed and bowed, and, being a man who could count now, held up his fingers and pleaded: "Three cauldrons! Three! Three at the most!"

And so the whole yard fell into a busy uproar.

Many people, and a big cauldron to heat besides, Qi Qian'er ran in and out. First she fetched Chen Dasheng three fresh layers of new clothes, then set his mud-soaked things to soak. When that was done she went to the sheep-pen out back, picked out a big fat sheep and led it out, and coming to the front yard, saw the old lady, wearing the very cooking-apron Qi Qian'er used, sitting by the well washing clothes for her golden grandson.

One look and it was plainly more than one man's washing, two full basins of it, and by the racket from the bath-room, four had gone in at the least.

Young men bathing means a water-fight. The din was past all reason.

The old lady beat the clothes and smiled a sweet little smile as she went.

Seeing Qi Qian'er come out leading the big fat sheep, her face soured of a sudden, and she pursed her lips and grumbled: "Hmph! The pair of us, a matched set of low-born wretches!"

Heh...

Guan Si'er, slowest at everything, was the last to arrive, and coming into the yard he found Ma Ergu and Cui Erdian, their clean clothes in their arms, staring in fright at a corner of the yard.

He followed their eyes to look too, and broke out in a cold sweat.

The tender, delicate little sister-in-law had a bright ox-ear knife gripped in her teeth, a coarse apron round her, and one hand pinning down a strong sheep as she bound its legs, fore and hind.

When the sheep's legs were trussed, she lifted it lightly onto the bench she'd set up, its head hanging half over a wooden basin.

This, she meant to butcher the sheep with her own hands?

Guan Si'er's hair stood on end. He made to go help, but Ma Ergu stopped him and whispered: "Don't, go up and grandma'll skin you! Have you forgotten the last time, chopping off a sheep's head and wasting the blood?"

True enough. Last time they'd just gone at it with a cleaver. The sheep died clean, and the old lady scolded them clean for a whole two hours.

So, just watch?

While he wavered, Qi Qian'er set to. Her pearly teeth parted, the knife dropped to her hand. One thrust and one draw at the sheep's throat and it was done in a breath. The sheep hadn't even felt the pain, hadn't struggled, when she tossed the knife onto the bench, gripped body and head and wrenched them apart. A crack, and the sheep was dead on the instant. The blood shot straight into the wooden basin, not a drop wasted.

The old lady, washing away, hummed in triumph and cut her eyes at the young men, not troubling to be kind: "You lot, no good at anything you try! See that? That's what you call working!"

Guan Si'er rubbed his own neck, turned his head, and called into the house, his voice cracking: "Chief... my sister-in-law's butchering a sheep by hand..."

From the window overhead came a muffled answer: "Ah, I saw!"

Guan Si'er started, and after a while pulled a face and muttered sideways to Ma Ergu: "I get the feeling our saber-chief's not much use at home."

Ma Ergu nodded, sure of it: "Mm!!"

No use at all, truly.

Skin the sheep, split the belly, draw out the offal, dress the bones and slice the meat, mix the dough and make the steamed buns, Qi Qian'er worked without a word, but fast and steady, with a hard edge to her.

When Chen Dasheng came out in his three fresh layers, she wouldn't let him idle either. She pointed at the big wooden bucket: "If you're free, go sweep the lane-mouth. Where people live, the snow's melted to mud everywhere."

Chen Dasheng's eyes lit up. He took Yu Qingguan along, a bucket apiece, filled them, and set off for the lane-mouth.

When they'd gone out, the old lady curled her lip and jeered again: "Hmph! I told you, you're a soft touch, you'll never rule him, you'll be the one to suffer! Don't say I never warned you: were it me, I'd give him no step down at all... just leave him hanging!"

Qi Qian'er loaded the finished steamed buns into the steamers one by one, carried three tiers in with both hands, and coming out jeered back at the old lady: "Oh, so he's my grandson now, only I dote on him? If you're so able, then don't you go washing his clothes!"

The old lady spat, and went on beating the clothes, scolding as she beat: "This is falling into a mud-pit! Fitting himself out to be a grave-good! Fitting himself to stand in the tomb-pit and keep the death-watch, is he?!"

Just then Hu Yougui came out, hair loose, and heard her, and explained with a smile: "Grandma, it's because last year the Sixth Prince went up the mountain to spend New Year with the old dowager. The Emperor had us fetch him back yesterday, and with the snow melting, the road's bad, so this is how we ended up."

The old lady blinked, then asked, all curiosity: "Oh, and why'd the old dowager go up the mountain?"

Hu Yougui checked himself, not daring to let anything slip, and blinked: "Er, there's a temple up the mountain!"

"What temple?"

"A nunnery!"

"Which immortal-lady's is it?"

"Don't know!"

"Is she efficacious?"

"Don't know!"

"How is it you know nothing at all?"

"...Yeah!"

Seeing the old lady would go on forever, Qi Qian'er told Hu Yougui: "Go help your brother tidy the lane-mouth. All this talk, and the old lady's understood nothing."

Hu Yougui fled as if for his life. Running to the lane-mouth, he found his own saber-chief not working, squatting with Yu Qingguan under the Guard Lane plaque, watching the fun.

A good many carriages had come to the lane-mouth. By the look of it, some wealthy party. But when the carriages drew near, the lantern on the lead one read, surname Hu? Sixth grade? Board of Works?

Hu Yougui and the rest had never had the chance to study under Eunuch She, Eunuch She doesn't take students lightly. It was Chen Dasheng, feeling for them, who this time had learned his lesson and simply hired teachers in.

The six of them were now all pupils of a former-dynasty provincial graduate.

None of them fools, in no long time they'd memorized dozens of surnames, and the key characters of every government office too.

They were a pack of gatekeepers: men of the third rank and above passed before their eyes coming and going, and they themselves each held an honorary marquisate, so an official of the ordinary sort simply didn't register with them.

Looking at that great crowd, a good twenty-odd carriages arrived at their lane-mouth, Chen Dasheng, sharp as he was, saw the size of it and knew: the Board of Revenue's people had likely come to requisition houses.

Sure enough, the convoy picked its way a stretch through the manor's mud, and at last, finding good road, went naturally looking for respectable mansions.

Their Guard Lane was tidied every day. Beside the houses next door, whose roofs no one swept, it looked respectable indeed, so they stopped at the lane-mouth.

Chen Dasheng cocked his head and told Hu Yougui: "Go home and fetch all the waist-tallies."

Hu Yougui turned and ran back.

The lead carriage's driver reined in, took out the step-stool and set it down, and helped the master within to climb out.

Only then did Chen Dasheng see him clearly: gaunt-faced, cheeks sunken, worn out all over. He took the grey-squirrel cloak handed out from the carriage and put it on himself, looked this way first, and, seeing two servants in cloth clothes sweeping the lane-mouth, frowned and said low: "Weren't we told no one lives here?"

Then he turned his head and called to the second carriage: "Brother Jiang!"

Before long a round, fat head poked muzzily out of the carriage behind.

By the lantern, seventh grade, Board of Revenue, surname Jiang.

"Oh! We're here already? I'd dozed right off."

The fat Jiang was helped down, tied his cloak, and reached into his sleeve for a little folder. Opening it, he read as he grumbled: "Let me see, here! Let me see! Quanhou Manor, this is the place. Six lanes, right to left, official residences, seventy-two in all..."

He counted them off on his fingers, then hailed the gaunt one: "Brother Hu! Brother Hu! This lane's a good one!"

Of course it was good, else would the old lady have brought Qi Qian'er here? So the two masters, the Board of Revenue's house-register in hand, came straight at Chen Dasheng and the rest.

As luck would have it, Hu Yougui ran up just then and slipped a tally into the back of Chen Dasheng's belt.

That done, he took up his own bucket and went on sweeping.

The sixth-grade Hu official would hardly bend to speak with men in cloth. He walked over on his own, looked up at the lane's plaque, and said, puzzled: "Guard Lane? What guard? Whose guard? From where?"

The two looked at each other, and then bent at last to inquire of the squatting Chen Dasheng: "Young fellow, trouble you, tell us: which guard-corps lives in this lane?"

Both were seasoned hands. New to the place, they'd not lightly give offense, so their tone was courteous.

Courteous, then, and thinking they'd be neighbors from now on, Chen Dasheng smiled and stood: "Where are you from?"

Pure force of habit, a man who guards the gate for the Emperor asks even an official of the second rank, well now, where are you from?

But it didn't sit well with these two. The lean one shut his mouth, the fat one gave a cold laugh: "Boy! Is your master at home?"

Now that was not nice to hear. After all this time, someone still dared call him "boy"?

Chen Dasheng narrowed his eyes: "I'm the master here."

The Hu official walked up to him and, in the end, mastered his temper: "You, you're the master here? But the empty-house records we drew from the Board of Revenue say nothing about anyone living here."

Chen Dasheng jeered, not troubling to be polite: "Now that's rich! Your Board of Revenue may take six lanes at once, but our guard-garrison can't have the one? What of it?"

That said, he drew a bronze tally from the back of his belt and held it up before them: "Colleagues, no call to lock horns! We all bleed and toil for the court, there's no shortage of houses hereabouts, whichever side clears one out, it comes to much the same! We've taken this one, we'll report it to the Board of Revenue by and by! And besides, this ground isn't necessarily the Board of Revenue's to dispose of. That's for Qingfeng's new yamen to settle, you've overstepped!"

The two looked at the tally: the Imperial Long Saber Guard. Chen Dasheng waited till they'd read it, then flipped it over: sixth-grade Commander's Recorder, surname Chen.

One would have been enough, but Yu Qingguan felt he'd waited his whole life for just this moment.

Holding down his excitement, his face stern, he too slowly held out a tally from the side: Imperial Commander's Registrar, seventh grade, surname Yu.

The two out-of-towners were about to greet them with a smile, when the loose-haired one beside them, smiling too, held out yet another tally.

Another Imperial-front officer, not to be trifled with.

The fat Jiang burst out laughing, fat as he was, both eyes crinkled to slits, and the lean Hu laughed too, and oh, how sweetly!

There was no help for it. Imperial-front officers outranked them by three grades. And who did these two ever see? Why, these men saw the Emperor himself, day in and day out.