Chapter 54

Qi Qian'er was steady now, and knew enough of the world that little frightened her, whoever it might be or whatever the matter. But what she'd never dreamed of was that her own old lady would open with a stroke this bold.

And not Qi Qian'er alone, everyone about was badly shaken by the old lady's sudden words. The guards set to bar the way looked at one another. She Jixiang's legs went weak under him. And all the people posted in the shadows to defend the place were struck dumb to a man.

Both old ladies were white-haired, and each had a good pair of eyes.

The fat old lady looked down the hill first, and saw the cloth-clad old lady, stopped on the path, gazing up and pleading with her, calling out "old sister," and, for all her aged arms and legs, hopping hard to be seen.

So she asked: "Who's that?"

A beardless, blue-robed man of middle years, waiting at her side, answered: "Old Bodhisattva, a pilgrim come to worship at the temple today, perhaps."

Her scolding done, the fat old lady turned and knelt to the temple gate and made her devout bows. And without waiting to be helped she got up herself, and dusted the earth from her own knees, and paid no mind to the crowd that had dropped to its knees on account of her temper. Instead she turned, all warmth, and called down the hill:

"Ai! Old sister down there, come up quick! We'll go and knock our heads to the Bodhisattva together! And when we're done, we'll make the masters a vegetarian meal out back, and soak up a little of the Buddha's grace, and stir a bodhi-heart in us."

In that instant every barrier between them fell away.

The old lady caught up her skirt and climbed, and, meeting the fat old lady, dipped in a curtsy: "Oh! Oh! Old sister, good day to you!"

The fat old lady started. How long since she'd heard so warm an address? Delighted at heart, she returned the courtesy, smiling: "And to you, old sister!"

The people round about were thunderstruck, near frightened to death on the spot. What was this, presenting the Emperor with a little grand-aunt out of nowhere?

Helpless, they watched the two old ladies, the one fat and the one thin, stand at the temple gate and openly set to trading their home-villages, their ages, the counts of their households.

And the old lady hadn't called it wrong: the fat old lady was two years the elder.

Their kinship established, they went in hand in hand, just like friends of half a lifetime. Today, so long as she could knock her head to the Bodhisattva, the old lady could take every unfairness in the world lying down.

She knew well enough that the old lady before her was no common person. But what of it? Could she be more fearful than a battlefield heaped with the corpses of tens of thousands? More fearful than one old woman shouldering her bedroll, her granddaughter in tow, and trudging ten thousand li? No!

Qi Qian'er held the bundle and stood at the gate, unwilling to go in, not for any disbelief, but because she thought: if Eldest Uncle's soul clung to this robe, and the temple's Bodhisattva took it up, that would not do.

So she stood outside the mountain gate and called: "Granny! I'll not go in!"

The old lady, already inside, paused, looked back, and understood at once. She nodded: "Ai! Trust you to think of it, good child! Wait at the gate for Granny, I'll be back directly!"

Qi Qian'er turned and charged First-Moon and Second-Moon: "Look after the old lady. And while you're at it, ask out the guest-master, I've some incense-money to give."

The two maids assented and went. And when they were out of sight, Qi Qian'er turned to the middle-aged eunuch who'd been staring at her all this while: "Forgive the discourtesy, might I ask the attendant's honored surname?"

He started, and his face took on a warning look: "So you can tell what I am? I warn you, carry any ill in your heart, and be it but a little imp of a scheme, it will bring you disaster past all reckoning!"

Qi Qian'er laughed out loud: "Trying to frighten me! Attendant, this is before the Bodhisattva, mind your words!"

The eunuch, put out, threatened again in short order: "I don't know where you got word of the Old Empress Dowager! But if you don't want to die, you'll..."

Qi Qian'er froze. She looked, disbelieving, at the two old ladies going off, then turned back and asked: "Is, is this the Empress Dowager Zheng's own carriage, here?"

Who'd have thought the eunuch would only grow angrier at that: "What an ignorant, vulgar woman! Is Empress Dowager Zheng, then, the only one in the world who may be called Dowager?"

At which Qi Qian'er grew more astonished still: "Ah! Then it's our Dowager Jiang! Truly! Truly! How rude of me, I never knocked my head to the Old Dowager just now. Dowager Jiang is a compassionate soul, a very Bodhisattva come again into the world!"

For that white, plump old lady was none other than Jiang-shi, the Son of Heaven's own mother.

And she was a good soul. Before her death she left a decree: that her body be buried simply, in the manner of one who has left the world. And she forbade her descendants to seek out her coffin, or set up any spirit-tablet to make offerings to her.

She'd laid by a little money of her own. And before she died she brought out every coin of it and founded, throughout Liang, a Charity Hospice to take in girl-children, giving a road to life to countless baby girls of poor families, who would else have been drowned.

The truth was, Qi Qian'er had only come to understand this woman slowly, after Dowager Jiang's death.

They said the Emperor's house was thin of blood, and that to carry on the line the old Commander of those days had chosen a great many women into his mansion, women of the very lowest birth, but from families that bred and bred.

Put plainly: women whose mothers were prodigious child-bearers.

Dowager Jiang's mother was such a one. Her family was wretchedly poor, but the mother bore and bore, twelve children in all to her husband's house, and every one raised!

So many children only ground the family the poorer.

For a poor house with many children there was but the one road, if you did not drown them: a daughter could not be given away, so you raised her any old how, to be sold off for money to eke out the household.

At four Jiang-shi was sold to a family in the same village to be a child-bride, and beaten and cursed until she was ten. And then her husband's parents saw the Commander's mansion's notice, and greed took them, and they traded her on for thirty taels of snow-bright silver, and passed her to the Commander's mansion.

And so, later, when people set upon Dowager Jiang, the first charge they laid was that a twice-married woman had not the virtue to sit the main hall.

At ten Jiang-shi entered the Commander's mansion, willing or no, and was kept on fine rice and flour until she was sixteen, and then sent to the old Commander's bed, and duly conceived.

That year, to guard the gold nugget in Jiang-shi's belly, the old Commander called in no end of great masters to pray and work their rites, and tried a hundred methods. And yet in the fifth month of her carrying, something went wrong with Jiang-shi, and she bled.

Then from somewhere came an old immortal, who gave his counsel: the old Commander's wealth and rank were too great, and pressed down the root of his line. To save this child, he must cut the tie of father and son, never own it nor set eyes on it before it was seven, and so keep the thing hidden from Heaven and bring the child through.

And so Jiang-shi, great with child, came by a charge of theft out of nowhere, and was sent to a country manor and kept under watch.

Strange to say, in the countryside Jiang-shi grew calm and settled. She bore a son in the end. And learning the old immortal's very words, Dowager Jiang thereafter gave herself over to burning incense and worshipping the Buddha, and raised temples and shrines everywhere. As for Yang Zao, until he was seven he believed himself a Jiang bastard, and his mother a thieving woman.

For that alone, young Yang Zao got into no few fights as a boy.

Those in the world who knew the inside of it all called Dowager Jiang a woman born to fortune. Look, low as her birth was, she'd eaten but ten years of bitterness. And once she stepped into the nest of wealth she bore the mansion's one and only dragon's egg, and thereafter, with never a care taken nor an ounce of effort spent, became a Dowager, and tasted the utmost of the world's riches.

But how were the people of the world to know that Dowager Jiang rarely wore a glad face? She did not love to smile, nor to give out many opinions, nor to see outsiders. She only sought, day after day, for some way to go and burn incense and knock her head somewhere.

Right up until her son took the realm, and she was fetched to the Liang palace, where she stayed but a single day, met Dowager Zheng once, heard some idle talk, and then made a great fuss to be gone.

Within the palace and without, the word was that the old lady was timid, and that an assassin had frightened her.

From that day Jiang-shi never again had to watch Dowager Zheng's face. The truth was she only didn't wish to put her son in a hard place! One who has been wronged is, after all, not a person to provoke.

Dowager Jiang knew this: so long as she never entered the palace, never set foot in Yanjing, then it was Dowager Zheng who stood as the villain barring the Emperor's filial duty. With the Emperor's own mother kept outside, there'd be no want of tongues to call Dowager Zheng a tyrant who'd not let mother and son be reunited.

And so, should Dowager Zheng ever think to meddle in the son's affairs of state, she'd have to weigh it well first.

The eunuch, one Qiu Le, hearing Qi Qian'er call the old lady a Bodhisattva, was a shade better pleased, and gave a snort: "You're a well-taught girl, then! What, do you know of our Dowager too?"

If there was one thing in all her life Qi Qian'er did not fear, it was a eunuch.

She laughed at that, and when she'd done said: "Attendant, we're none of us strangers here, my own man keeps the Emperor's gate!"

Qiu Le started: "Oh? I've heard of no bold fellow taking a wife outside." And, sizing Qi Qian'er up and down with a touch of envy, he said: "Your man, which palace does he stand watch in? Tell me the name, and let's see whether I know him."

One word and Qi Qian'er understood his mistake. She smiled: "Ha, you've heard me wrong. Put it this way: your palace's Attendant She is my man's teacher. My man's at the guard-garrison, and his name is Chen Dasheng! Does the attendant know the name?"

Qiu Le froze. He served Dowager Jiang. And any who served Dowager Jiang were of another party than the palace eunuchs, above all, than Dowager Zheng's party!

Not that Qiu the eunuch thought little of Attendant She, only, didn't Attendant She call Dowager Zheng his aunt?

An enemy house, then?

Qiu the eunuch thought a while, then said, civil enough: "Very well! Since we're not strangers, sit over there and wait. I'll have them bring the little sister-in-law a bowl of tea."

By the coldness in his face, plainly the name of Attendant She was no use here after all.

Qi Qian'er, none the wiser as to why, still thanked him devoutly, and said she happened to be thirsty as it was.

And so, without one word more, she sat in the little pavilion by the nunnery gate, drinking her tea, and quietly waited for the old lady.

The old lady was gone until past noon, and then came out arm in arm with Dowager Jiang, the two of them merry as could be.

Dowager Jiang, who had raised so god-like a personage as the Emperor, knew of course the history of every Bodhisattva and Arhat as though she were counting her own family's treasures, how they were before they became Buddhas, how they passed through their trials, how they delivered all living beings and at last came to Buddhahood.

And what of the world had the old lady at home ever seen? At first she'd only meant to work a connection, so long as she could knock her head to the Bodhisattva, she'd be content.

Who'd have thought this old sister knew the affairs of the Buddha cold, some of it such that even the presiding master listened rapt. The old lady admired her past all telling. And hearing several tales of evil repaid with evil and good with good, her heart came quite at ease.

By the end these two newly-met old sisters had even linked arms, and, propping one another, worshipped hall by hall, forgetting themselves entirely, and praying, devout, only for their children and grandchildren.

Even as they came out Dowager Jiang was still telling stories: "Old sister, never mind that nunneries stand everywhere now, so that a woman in trouble, who can't live in the mortal world, may at least find shelter under our Buddha. In the old days the Buddha's house had no nuns at all."

The old lady, not following, asked in surprise: "Ah? And why was that? Didn't old sister just say all living beings are equal?"

Dowager Jiang said: "Sister saw the Venerable Ananda just now? You should make him many offerings hereafter. That the Buddha's gate can take women into orders at all, for that we must all thank the Venerable Ananda. They say a man in this world is a body of the seven treasures, but a woman a body of the five leaks, soft-hearted besides and quick to fall into the snares of feeling, and so ill-suited to cultivation. And it was the Venerable Ananda who, later, oh! Look at the hour, see, there's your granddaughter over yonder."

Seeing the old ladies out at last, Qi Qian'er rose in haste to meet them. She set the bundle down, went straight to the Old Dowager, and, bending low at the knee, gave her thanks: "My thanks to the Old Bodhisattva's mercy, that my Granny could kneel before the Bodhisattva today at last."

At which the Old Dowager chided her at once: "Child, you've said it wrong! This is before the Bodhisattva, what kind of Bodhisattva am I?"

New-met old sister though she was, the old lady would not have anyone speak so of Qi Qian'er, and made haste to shield her: "Old sister, you mustn't say a word against this fine grandson's-wife of mine! There's no better child in all this world than my grandson's-wife."

The Old Dowager blinked, and looked at the old lady: "This one's not your granddaughter, then?"

At that the old lady swelled with pride: "Heh! She's not! This is my own dear grandson's-wife, and filial as filial can be, look, every bit of this she made for me."

And the old lady swept up her clothes and, by her old custom, opened them layer by layer by layer, showing the Old Dowager the whole of it, top to bottom, and not sparing so much as her socks.

One look and the Old Dowager envied her. Her son had married her no few daughters-in-law, but those women were too crafty by half. Some would send needlework before her too, and call it filial care. Yet the Old Dowager was no fool, and knew they only used the chance of tending her to win the name of a close and loving heart. There was always some end of their own behind it.

The Old Dowager put out a hand, and stroked the old lady's clothes, and turned back the hems and looked in earnest, looked at the edging, looked at the stitching, and at the last praised it from the heart.

"This child, small as she looks? However did she come to be so good? So deft?"

Nothing pleased the old lady like praise of Qi Qian'er. And she said: "Qian'er! Today Granny's got a good bargain off your Jiang-granny! Now you, measure your Jiang-granny's feet, and later make her a pair of shoes to sit easy on them, count it your filial offering too!"

Dowager Jiang started, and was about to refuse, and found the little wife had already lifted her foot with a smile and taken its measure in a breath.

Well then. The little wife's character was truly a fine one. And she liked this old sister, and meant to go on keeping her company hereafter. If she'd make her a pair of shoes, let her!

She could never let the girl come off the loser.

Their greetings done, the two old ladies, hemmed round by servants, went again to the pavilion to sit a while.

They'd not been seated long when out came the presiding master, Jingguo, who had left them a moment before, leading a bewildered little nun, and herself bearing brush and ink.

The Qingque Nunnery looked well enough from without, but war is always hardest on women, and there were few nuns left now. Save for the old ones who couldn't stir, only this bewildered little nun before them could run an errand, and she but newly taken in.

Master Jingguo knew of course that the Old Dowager was a woman of wealth, and had attended her heart and soul the whole way. But her own knowledge of the Buddha's law was truly no match for the Old Dowager's. And, having heard nothing but wonders all the way, she'd not dared put in a word, and only praised the Buddha's name.

Which, as it happened, made the Old Dowager think the more highly of her, steady, she judged her, not like the masters at some of the great temples she'd visited of late, forever putting on a false depth, or airily flaunting their Zen. Those were no true monastics before the Bodhisattva. Oftener still, seeing her wealth, they'd angle to attach themselves and swindle a great offering out of her.

No wonder the sutras said that the Demon King Papiyan once vowed: in the age when the Dharma wanes, I will have my demon sons and demon grandsons don the kasaya, and chant your Buddha's name, and destroy your Dharma from within.

But now her son had ascended the throne. So the age of the waning Dharma, surely, was past.

At the thought a faint, unspoken dignity settled over the Old Dowager's face.

Nun Jingguo said, all apology: "I've slighted my patrons! The truth is our presiding master passed into nirvana three years since, and this little nun can barely keep the small nunnery standing. I hardly know how I ought to receive such good patrons."

The old ladies, having been within, knew well how poor the little nunnery was inside, even some of the bronze Bodhisattvas had been carried off, and only a lotus-throne left. It pained the Old Dowager to see it, and here was a chance for great merit given by the Bodhisattva besides. She thought to rebuild the Qingque Nunnery with that private money of hers by and by. Only, with others present, she must not flaunt the good deed on purpose, or it would be a good deed wasted. So she smiled and said nothing.

She watched the little wife take up brush and ink and spread the paper on the stone table, and heard her old sister boast: "This grandson's-wife of mine is a very capable one! She reads and reckons, and there's nothing under this roof or beyond it she doesn't know! So able! So good!"

Qi Qian'er held back a laugh, and chided the old lady: "Granny mustn't go praising me, or you'll have them laughing at you!"

The old lady tossed her head, proud, plainly a great weight had lifted from her heart.

Dowager Jiang, from worshipping so many gods, had caught a little of the divine about her. And hearing it she took the old lady's hand and praised: "Mm! I see it too! You've a great fortune before you!"

The old lady nodded, owning the fortune at once: "Just so! Good is good, and bad is bad! I tell you, old sister, that fourth daughter-in-law of mine."

But the Old Dowager pointed back at the nunnery: "We mustn't speak rashly before the Bodhisattva. Good or bad, don't discuss her! Don't blame her! Don't hold a grudge against her! Every soul has its own karma. We've only to look on, and no more."

The old lady was struck dumb again, and sorely wanted to weep, but dared not. She patted her own mouth: "Yes, yes, yes! Just so! I'll not speak of it! Just so! The Bodhisattva's watching me!"

Qi Qian'er, not to disturb them, spread out a mean, worm-eaten sheet of xuan paper, took up the brush, dipped it a few times, and then asked Nun Jingguo: "Might I ask, under which master's name do the religious houses hereabouts, round Yanjing, stand?"

Buddhist or Daoist, a religious house held to a standard within. As the Buddha's house is split into several sects, and under each sect, in each place, is a master who holds the reins, so the small temples round that master keep their rites to a standard, the standard that came down with the master. And the master, in turn, takes a certain share.

Qi Qian'er didn't know which sect, which master, the Qingque Nunnery belonged to, and so she asked.

But Nun Jingguo, hearing her, gave a bitter smile too: "Amitabha, I'll not deceive the patron. In the old days we followed the Nation-Protecting Temple. But now our Yanjing Nation-Protecting Temple has withdrawn from the world, so the little nun hardly knows whom she follows."

Qi Qian'er heard her out and gave a small sigh: "Then I'll not ask that. I'll only ask, by the old rule, master, for the two kinds of permanent longevity-tablet, red and yellow, what was the old standard?"

This "permanent" was no small thing: so long as the Qingque Nunnery stood, the tablet stood. Only when the temple was destroyed would the tablet be no more.

The red was the longevity-tablet for the living, the yellow, the blessing-tablet for the dead.

How was Nun Jingguo to know it? Before the war she'd been only a small nun, and hearing the question she could only shake her head, tongue-tied.

Qi Qian'er understood, and said, head down: "Then let's do it this way. Whichever kind, one tablet, and I'll give the nun-master thirty strings of cash. How's that?"

The words were scarcely out before all around fell silent.

Thirty strings was a great sum indeed. In the peaceful days of old, even a famous great temple had asked no more, and the Qingque was but a nunnery at that.

The old lady was too frightened to speak. And it was a good while before Nun Jingguo said, honest: "The small temple would never have dared take so much before! But now that so many Bodhisattvas have lost their gilded bodies, this little nun, this little nun has stirred up a greedy thought. Woman-Bodhisattva, be easy in your heart, for from this day on, while the temple stands the tablet stands, and never will I dare neglect it! Amitabha. The little nun prays that upon your whole house the merciful light of all the Buddhas may rest, and the shelter of the dragon-gods, that a thousand auspicious clouds may gather, and blessing and wisdom both increase."

Seeing her labor at it, Qi Qian'er stopped her, and turned smiling to the old lady: "Granny, do you remember my grandfather's name?"

The old lady started, then said: "How should I not remember? He was called Chen Wucang!"

"And Eldest Uncle?"

"Second Uncle?"

"Eldest Aunt?"

...

As the old lady spoke the names out, one after another, the people round about had long since been struck dumb, how many of this one family had died?

On and on the old lady went, until she felt as though even the birdsong had stopped. And looking at all the names her grandson's-wife had written, she remembered how others had shrunk from her "hard fate," a fate so heavy it killed those near her, and, afraid, she quietly stood, meaning to move a little away from her old sister, lest she come to be shunned by and by.

The old lady had barely risen when the Old Dowager caught her by the hand and pressed her firmly back into her seat, and then patted her hand and comforted her: "It's not your fault! Not your fault! In those years of the old dynasty, who could be master of his own lot? To live at all was hard, and it was the same in every house! No one may shun you. Don't be afraid, old sister."

The old lady's eyes brimmed with tears, but still she dared not cry.

Dowager Jiang said: "Have your cry out. Cry, and your heart will ease."

The old lady shook her head: "No tears! None! I mustn't cry! Cry, and they're uneasy below, and dare not go to be reborn!"

At which the old lady set Dowager Jiang to crying instead. And wiping her tears the Dowager said: "Very well, then! I'll cry in your stead!"

For she too had a belly full of wrongs she dared not cry out!

And so the two old ladies fell to weeping together, and wept a good long while, and wet through several handkerchiefs. And when they'd done, the two of them found themselves easier of heart, and lighter, and set free.

The old lady stroked her breast and sighed: "Old sister! Now I've had my cry, why, how much better my heart feels!"

Dowager Jiang stroked her own breast: "Aye! Just so, I'm easier too. Even my breath comes out the freer for it!" And she felt her belly and laughed: "Hungry, even! I'll tell you what, if you don't scorn it, old sister, come home with me to eat! My house is not far from here."

The old lady heard it and shook her head like a rattle-drum: "I'll not go! Won't! I've still to go to Yanjing with Qian'er to see the Emperor!"

At that a strange look crossed the Old Dowager's face. And it was a good while before she looked at the old lady and asked her, in earnest: "You mean to go and find the Emperor?"

The old lady nodded: "That's right!"

"And what do you want with him?"

The old lady, righteous as could be: "To ask him for merit-coins!"

The old lady liked this old sister, and so hid nothing, but told her the whole of it, cause and course.

At first the Old Dowager doubted it. But the more she heard, the more piteous it grew, the more it shook her, and it turned out she was no benefactor bestowing kindness on her old sister at all! It was her own wretch of a son who owed these people a karmic debt! And where was the man buried? He'd never even told the man's mother. That stinking boy, where had he learned such wickedness?

When the old lady had got the whole of it out at last, the Old Dowager was in a rage. She stood and gripped the old lady's hand: "Come! Old sister! I'll go with you to see that good-for-nothing thing."

At those words a delight broke over every one of her people. Even Qiu the eunuch began to tremble with it. For on the day the Old Dowager left the palace, she had said that so long as she drew a breath she would never see the Emperor again, nor set one foot in Yanjing!

But the delight did not last. The Old Dowager stopped, and there at the head of the steps she dared not go down, and even let fall the old lady's hand she held.

The Old Dowager looked at the old lady with a bitter smile: "Old sister, I, I've talked too big! Talked wild nonsense before the Bodhisattva! I can't go after all."

For that Zheng woman had had the right of it: with two dowagers in the palace, the very root of the state would be undone. Two maternal clans behind an emperor, and the ministers would split all too readily into two camps.

The old lady, not knowing where her old sister had stuck fast, and having swallowed no end of bitterness in her time, took her arm at once: "Old sister! It's all right! You mustn't distress yourself! I know you feel for me, I've had my cry, and it's all mended now! Didn't I tell you, my grandson keeps the Emperor's own gate! I'll go, and I'll get in to see the Emperor! You mustn't grieve! What you said just now was so fine, let him be, let everything be."

The Old Dowager was sore at heart, but nodded in the end, helpless: "Ai! Let him be! Let him be! Each generation minds its own. We're old, and can't mind them any longer. To look to ourselves and be no trouble to them, that's the children's blessing."

Qi Qian'er sent She Jixiang down the hill to fetch six gold ingots from the cart for Nun Jingguo.

Nun Jingguo's gratitude needs no telling.

As for the pair of old sisters, they'd already fixed a day to meet again: at the end of the fourth month, when the weather turned warm, the Old Dowager would come and stay a few days in Guard Lane at Quanhou Manor, to lift her spirits.

All the way down the hill, Qiu the great eunuch kept glancing, odd-faced, now at the old lady, now at Qi Qian'er.

By now he knew it for what it was, all coincidence. The family truly had only been passing.

And he could find no fault to lay on them: a whole house of the loyal and the fallen, this, a thing to move a man to real respect.

The Old Dowager saw them down a short flight of steps, and then stood and watched the grandmother and granddaughter go, until their figures had passed out of sight.

Only when they were gone did Qiu the eunuch ask, careful: "Dowager, will you send the Emperor no word?"

The Old Dowager shook her head slightly: "No need! Can't you see it? That little grandson's-wife is one with a plan of her own! And my old sister, for nerve, never mind going to Yanjing. If that stinking boy of mine won't give them their merit-coins, believe me, she'd dare wail a great hole clean through my son's golden throne-hall.

"Heh, a person's whole life, whom you meet, whom you come to have, it's all fixed beforehand. What's owed can't be dodged, and what you've run up, you'll not escape though you flee to the next life."

Qi Qian'er and the old lady pressed on, hard as they could, and got into Yanjing city at last before nightfall.

Neither of them would ride in the cart, there was too much to gape at! They got down and queued to go in on foot, meaning to measure the Emperor's great gate-tunnel with their own two feet.

It was the old lady's first time in Yanjing. The wall alone held her up half the while, and at last she asked Qi Qian'er: "Qian'er, how many zhang would you say the Emperor's wall stands?"

How was Qi Qian'er to know? She too looked a good while, and made her guess: "What else? Five zhang high, it must be."

The two of them hadn't finished when there came, from the city gate, a burst of firecrackers and a great clashing of gongs.

Back where the old lady came from, the monkey-showmen beat gongs to draw a crowd.

She thought to herself: Yanjing's a wealthy place, so its monkey-shows spend the more, likely. But before she'd done admiring, the leading gong had come right up before her.

A crowd pressed round to watch. Two lead gongs beat, earth-shaking. And a big man holding aloft a banner blazoned with the word Duel walked along crying out: "The third of the third month, the Shangsi Festival! The Grandmaster Pang Tu of Yuegong Mountain has laid down a challenge-notice, and calls Recorder Chen Dasheng of the Long Saber Garrison of the Imperial Guard to meet him on the dueling platform!"

The great gong crashed of a sudden right before the old lady, and truly shook her, her heart near leapt into her throat.

Qi Qian'er's hand went out by instinct and covered the old lady's ears.

The men bearing the notice came on, a fresh team of three every few zhang, ten teams in all before the street fell quiet again.

Qi Qian'er, her hands not yet down from the old lady's ears, heard someone behind her say, all excitement: "By heaven! This is a great thing! A grandmaster come down off his mountain, this is to cut down the Emperor's own gate-guarding xiezhi! See there, the red banner for a death-duel, this is a fight to the death, no quarter!"

Qi Qian'er's fury rose at the words, and in her heart she thought, savage: "Curse his ancestors!! My An'er isn't even here yet, who dares cut off my seed!!"