Chapter 6

Madam Wang's heart these past days was already broken past any more breaking. She was born shrewd through and through, high-handed and skilled — and in the early years, before she married into the Huo family, the Huo had been a line of estate-stewards who'd watched over the imperial manors generation after generation.

But from the time she married in, in little more than ten years, by scheming and cunning and pandering and toadying — licking every boot above, buttering up every side — the crown's property came to bear the Huo name. And that was how Huo Manor later came to be.

Not even with Master Huo's head hung up on the city gate had she been this afraid.

But now... Madam Wang stared hard at Qi Qian'er's face, and at those eyes glinting cold.

These eyes — she felt she'd seen them before. The tenant frozen dead in the straw shed in winter, the convict worked to death at the estate's salt well, the concubine sold off, the servant beaten to death... those people had looked at her with just such eyes before they died. But the Madam Wang of those days had not been afraid. Her favorite saying was: I don't fear the living, so why fear a dead thing?

Back then she'd had her trappings of rank. Now, she had nothing left...

With two scornful clicks of her tongue, Qi Qian'er looked Madam Wang up and down before going on: "Well now, Madam — you've sold me off by hook and by crook, and that sets your mind at ease, does it? Ai-yo! You really don't fear death, do you — aren't you afraid I'll cry it out right now? Never mind cheating the officer gentlemen — but have you forgotten? The master of the house's head is hanging at the city gate! His blood's not even dry, and here you are, a remnant, come scrambling right up to a soldier-lord's door to work your cheat... Bold as brass, aren't you!"

In the old days Qi Qian'er, in her dreams, had wanted over and over to find Madam Wang and ask her: Where's your heart? You're a mother too, a grandmother! You shove someone else's child into a pit of fire without a second thought — you knew full well she'd have no good life of it, that with one word from you she'd be ruined to the very bottom for the rest of her days, that it might even cost her her life! And you can still sleep at night?

But later, when she'd grown old and seen more of the world, she understood: they can sleep just fine. They fear nothing. They eat well and drink well their whole lives. Retribution? Who's ever seen retribution?

And later still, only in her old age, Qi Qian'er grasped one truth: set beside Madam Wang's black-hearted cruelty, it was her own spineless, rotten-meat softness that was the most hateful thing of all.

And so she no longer hated Madam Wang. Nor did she hate Master Huo, nor the old woman, nor Scabby... she didn't even hate Madam Qiao. She hated only herself.

Now she only said these things for the saying; there was no anger in her heart.

Madam Wang was badly frightened. At the thought of the consequences her face changed utterly; her mouth trembled with fear, and for a moment all you could hear was the chattering of her teeth.

Qi Qian'er, all smiles, reached out and took hold of her arm as if she couldn't bear to let her go.

In the tussle, Qi Qian'er caught sight of the smooth white mutton-fat jade bangle on Madam Wang's arm.

Yes, yes — that was the very thing.

In the old days, whenever Madam Wang was dealing out someone's fate, she liked best to wear her sable-trimmed jacket with the peony medallions, liked to sit high up where no wind or rain could reach, sipping ginseng tea and fingering a silk kerchief; and at the drawn-out moments she'd stretch out her white wrist and, flick by flick, push this bangle round with her hand.

Qi Qian'er used to have nightmares in which she didn't dare lift her head to look at Madam — she couldn't see the face, but she could see this bangle on that stark-white wrist...

"Oh! Madam, this bangle of yours is so lovely!"

Qi Qian'er laughed and reached to stroke the bangle.

Madam Wang made to draw her hand back, but seeing Qi Qian'er's eyes, she didn't dare.

And so, little by little, Qi Qian'er worked the bangle right off her wrist.

Madam Wang had slipped this bangle on as a young girl, and though she was thin now, her bones had set full-grown. She didn't dare cry out at the pain — only pleaded with her whole face, shivering in a cold sweat...

It took Qi Qian'er some effort, but in the end she got the bangle onto her own thin little stick of an arm.

As she worked it on she sighed: "Ai! The dead of night, meat-eating beasts everywhere, and you turned us out without a second thought... A single plate of offering fruit, and I saved your whole family's lives with it. And you? Good Madam, you sold off my own mother, and now you've sold her daughter too? Didn't it once cross your mind — without me to bring word, your whole family would have starved! The old folk always say a person ought to be a little merciful, ought to have a conscience — isn't that right? Or else retribution comes. Wouldn't you say?"

Madam Wang's gaze swam, unfocused; she felt she was dreaming, and wished she could faint dead away — but Qi Qian'er's voice pierced clear and crisp into her ears, and she missed not a single word.

"...In the old days the aunties in the back court were always telling me it'd be better once I married, that all that work was wearying, but that Madam meant well by us, having us learn our skills. They'd say it was Madam's merciful heart that kept you from starving me, that fed me still, and we ought to be grateful. Heh! Thank you kindly, then. You didn't starve me, and I saved your whole family — so we're square now, wouldn't you say?"

Qi Qian'er stared hard at Madam Wang, who took a long moment to react before nodding numbly: "...Square."

Pleased at that, Qi Qian'er patted her arm and said cozily: "Square's good. You said it yourself, mind — I'd never dare rack up sins the way you do! So then: your family gave me a handful of food, and I saved the lot of you — that makes us even, doesn't it?"

"Even!"

"Even's good! Madam knows her manners, after all — mercy itself, day in and day out, the kind good soul who builds temples and burns incense and kowtows to every idol she sees. And since you're so good and so well-mannered, let's reckon up this account of you selling me too. Ten strings of cash is no small sum, whatever you say, and fifty jin of grain — your whole family owes me more than one life over, don't they?"

Under another's roof, Madam Wang could only say, unwilling: "...Yes. Yes, I suppose..."

Qi Qian'er, tickled pink, pushed the jade bangle round: "Tsk! Ai-yo, listen to that — you know everything, you're clear on everything. What I can't work out is: that graveyard-camp on the back hill — you sent no few people into it, year in, year out, didn't you? Truly a woman who fears no retribution! Aren't you afraid, Madam, that when you die tomorrow and go down to hell, King Yama will judge your case and burn you, roast you, mince you, wring you — grind your bones and scatter the ash!"

Madam Wang backed away, step after step, and Qi Qian'er, gripping her arm, followed close at every step, her two eyes fixed hard on her, and said into her ear: "And then — in the next life he'll sentence you to the beast path, to be some old sow that fattens up rooting through dung and eating filth, and gets a knife across the throat come the festival — how about that?"

Madam Wang's face went ashen-green, and she struggled hard to break free.

But Qi Qian'er held her fast, and pulled a little cloth packet from her sleeve too, slipping the several rings inside it one by one onto her own dry, callus-covered fingers.

"Qi — Qi Qian'er! You dare?" Madam Wang couldn't bear to part with the wealth.

But Qi Qian'er looked at her with a ghostly smile: "Ai! I dare! What can you do to me, Madam? Ai-yo, easy there — the ground here's hard, don't go hurting yourself in a fall. If you spew up your guts, heartless as you are, I'll not help you gather them back up — they'd stink something awful!"

And all Madam Wang's formidable skill was frightened back into the dust once more.

"You — are you not afraid to die?!"

In the end, this was nothing but bullying on the strength of someone else's power.

Hating herself more and more inside, Qi Qian'er opened and closed her palm with its seven or eight rings and said with a smile: "I'm not afraid! But you are! Ai — must you be so loud? You'll deafen me! If you want to die, Madam, then die — go on, shout it out loud! Only pity the eldest young master over there, and the second young master, and that whole precious brood of yours...

"Me, I'm just a cheap-boned thing a concubine bore — what's it to me whether I live or die? Or shall you try it? Give a shout? The rough soldier-brutes in there won't stop to reason with you. Cross their old lady, and heh — down comes the blade, stroke after stroke, and this whole family's heads might just go rolling across the ground like autumn gourds — sss, blood spurting three feet! No one gets away either way. So look — why don't we go together, you and I? Over at King Yama's, I'd at least make a witness..."

Madam Wang went limp and began to crumple to the ground, but Qi Qian'er caught her up and said with a smile: "Don't put on the act. How little I've taken off you — and I saw what's in the firewood pile by the cart shaft over there, you know... Do you take someone for a fool?"

Before she'd finished — from who knows where she found the strength — Madam Wang flung Qi Qian'er off and went staggering toward the cart.

Stumbling as she went, Madam Wang muttered low under her breath: "A ghost! An evil ghost... a ghost...!"

The eldest young master, Huo Yunrui, blank-faced, was hoarsely screamed back into motion by Madam Wang; whatever it was they'd said, those who could climbed onto the cart, those who could shouldered the baskets... and off they went, quick as anything.

From first to last, not one of that family dared look back at Qi Qian'er.

Qi Qian'er muttered under her breath: "You're the evil ghost."

As the party drew further and further off, Qi Qian'er didn't stir, only stood watching where she was... She knew in her heart: from here they would never meet again as long as they lived.

This family of pampered kittens, steeped in soft warmth and sweet ease — whether they'd even make it to the old home was anyone's guess. She'd seen people flee disaster hauling their valuables, but never seen anyone flee hauling a stack of firewood.

There's always someone in this world who thinks himself the cleverest of all. Cover it over up top as you please — the two deep cart-ruts scored into the ground will hide nothing.

Leave it at that. She wouldn't warn them; their life and death she left to them, all to Heaven's will — and count it, too, as merit laid up for her An'er.

Doctor Cheng watched his newly-made sworn brother Huo in astonishment. Just now they'd been talking over a few good books from years past — so why had the man suddenly bolted off as if for his life, without so much as a goodbye?

He'd even meant to press young Huo hard to join the camp with him — with the new dynasty just founded, even drifting along anyhow could make you a career.

Ai! He'd read the man wrong — read him quite wrong! Got his money and ran off so fast there was no calling him back.

Only when the family had vanished at the far crossroads did he turn back to look at the girl and Old Madam Chen, ringed three deep by the women.

Going over, he saw the girl heaving a great basket as tall as herself up onto her back — and as she moved, there on her wrist swung a loop of white, and on her fingers dangled and clinked seven or eight glinting things.

It stung Doctor Cheng's eyes, and as if some spirit moved him, the words slipped right out: "That — what's all that?"

Qi Qian'er had a good impression of Doctor Cheng. Back when the old woman had wanted to sell her off, this blunt, honest man had stuck his neck out and lectured her: he'd never heard of a decent house selling off its own proper wife, and besides, he was the matchmaker and had written the marriage contract himself — this person could not be sold, no matter what... Afterward the old woman had sent word round, and Scabby too had sent back word: let it stand as it is...

Qi Qian'er answered with a smile: "It's my dowry quilts, Doctor. Never mind that the covers are a bit coarse — inside there's two of them, ten jin of good de-seeded cotton to each, all fresh batting."

Naturally that wasn't what Doctor Cheng had asked about, but his wits were clear again now, so he could only give an awkward laugh, say very good, and — with a flick of his sleeve — turn and walk off.

He didn't even stop to take the ink-box from the millstone.

As chance would have it, a magpie settled on a pagoda-tree branch outside the ancestral hall at the front of the hamlet, and Qi Qian'er watched it, tickled pink.

It was all so familiar.

This was An'er's Pagoda-Tree Grandpa. Her An'er had been sickly from birth, and it was the old woman who'd said that taking a tree for a godfather would bless the child.

And after they did, sure enough, An'er coughed less.

In the old days, come festivals and New Year, she'd often bring An'er here to make offerings to his Tree Grandpa.

"Tomorrow my An'er will come again, and I'll hang you a great red sash and offer up a pig's head this big!"

Her vow made, Qi Qian'er shouldered her basket and followed the old woman, Old Madam Chen, into the hamlet — and the whole way, Old Madam Chen couldn't pull her eyes off Qi Qian'er's hands.

Qi Qian'er pursed her lips in a smile and, bold as you like, held out her hand. She looked the rings over, and in the end picked the poorest silver band and slipped it onto the old woman's finger: "Here, you keep this one to play with."

The rest? Don't even think about it!

The old woman's eyes rolled round. She glanced behind her, tugged Qi Qian'er a few quick steps along, and said low: "You don't know how things stand, girl. It's all war and chaos now, and the yard we live in isn't just the one household. These things of yours — let me look after them for the time being, and once you and Scabby are settled, I'll give them back to you..."

Ten-odd years of tormenting each other with this old woman — who didn't know the other's temper by now?

For the time being? Keep waiting for that!

Qi Qian'er answered with a bright smile: "Listen to you — can't I even look after these few trinkets? I'm no fool. My own family's dowry — how would I dare not keep it safe? Set your mind at ease, no need to trouble yourself. When we get back I'll find a needle and thread and sew a little pouch to hang against my chest. I could lose my life and still not lose them!"

There was a burst of laughter all around, and though the old woman was angry inside, she could only swallow it.

Neither had the measure of the other's temper yet; who knew what the other was really like.

After all, a new mouth added to the family was a good thing — she could hardly kick the girl the moment they'd met, could she?

Angry as she was, Old Madam Chen twisted her old face into a smile and, thoroughly put out, waved her hand to shoo off the ring of onlookers.

"What are you all gawking at! What's there to see?"

Another burst of laughter from the crowd, and some quick-witted soul led the old woman's five goats over.

Sharp as she was, Qi Qian'er gave a little hop to settle the basket, then went over smiling to take the goats: "Are these ours?"

The old woman looked at the goats, then looked at the thin-haired girl with an odd expression. What did she mean, "ours"? Why wasn't the girl shy of strangers? Parted forever from her own family like this — why wasn't she crying? Something wasn't right!

Old Madam Chen puzzled over it every which way and couldn't make sense of it; in the end she could only give a stiff nod: "Ah — my goats!"

Qi Qian'er laughed brightly and grabbed the goats' lead-ropes in both hands: "Yours, yours! They're all yours! What's yours is yours, and what's mine is mine! I'm helping you — you think I'd butcher and eat them on you?"

The goats hadn't had their fill and didn't want to go, but Qi Qian'er gave a hard yank, and the sturdiest of them dropped to its knees with a thud.

Qi Qian'er looped the rope round her wrist and hauled the goat up with no trouble at all, and so, two in one hand and three in the other, she dragged the goats off into the hamlet without much effort.

Doing odd jobs in the back court of Huo Manor from the age of three, worked like a grown man from the age of ten — at fifteen, with a full belly, Qi Qian'er had a man's strength to spare.

Watching that sprightly back recede, Old Madam Chen clicked her tongue, thinking: what — what in the world had she brought home?

Before she'd worked it out, a woman came bouncing up beside her and said furtively in her ear: "Old Mistress, the way that one sizes people up — she's this!"

And the woman stuck her thumb way up.

But Old Madam Chen had no idea how to answer that.

Happy at heart, Qi Qian'er looked about at the old sights as she walked. Ah, this was Academician Wang's house — eh? had this house really looked like this before? Heh — the second-branch wife of General Sang's household still owed her thirty strings of cash and never paid it back...

In a daze, she grew quieter the further she walked.

And so Qi Qian'er stopped, turned back, and called to Old Madam Chen: "Do hurry up... ahem — that is, I don't know the way!"

The watching women burst out laughing again, and poor Old Madam Chen's head throbbed. She thought: O ancestors of the Chen line, this is none of my doing! Have your grave-mounds gone and got waterlogged — is that why we've landed ourselves a halfwit?