The Corpse Reader

34

Cí barely slept. It was a long night, but not long enough to contain all the self-loathing he felt, or his newfound hate for Feng. With the first rays of sun, he got out of bed and started getting ready. He’d poured all his energy into preparing a case that would shine light on Feng’s iniquity, but he still knew there was a very good chance the emperor wouldn’t believe a word of what he said.

The time came for them to leave, and Feng was waiting for him at the door, dressed in his magistrate’s robes and winged cap. He also wore an affable smile that Cí now knew was pure deceit. Cí managed a halfhearted greeting, saying he’d had a restless night. An Imperial escort awaited them outside. Seeing their weapons, Cí mentally ran through his own: the book of trials, his father’s letter, the pouch containing the gunpowder, and the small, blood-spattered stone that he’d found in Feng’s drawer. As they went out, he turned, hoping Blue Iris would be coming to support him. But as they left the Water Lily Pavilion, the nüshi didn’t even wave them off.

As they walked, Cí did his best to avoid speaking to or even looking at Feng. He had to maintain his composure, but one more false smile from the old man and Cí didn’t know if he’d be able to stop himself from pouncing on Feng and tearing his heart from his chest.

They arrived at the court and Feng took his place alongside the other members of the High Tribune, on the prosecution side. Cí came and stood beside Gray Fox. He wasn’t surprised by his adversary’s exaggerated look of triumph; he’d succeeded in having Cí arrested, and their colleagues in the judiciary were all there to see the humiliation. Cí was made to kneel before the empty throne. He was trembling as he touched his forehead to the floor. Then a gong signaled Ningzong’s entrance. The emperor, dressed in a red tunic inlaid with golden dragons, came forward flanked by a large retinue, the Supreme Councilor for Rites and the new Councilor for Punishments foremost among them. Cí, still prostrate, waited to be told what to do.

Once the emperor was seated, an elder with a bonnet pulled down over his eyebrows and an oiled mustache came forward to announce the Celestial Majesty and outline the accusations.

“As the Official of Ancient Justice at the palace, and by consent of our most honorable and magnanimous monarch, Ningzong, Heaven’s Son and Lord of Earth, thirteenth Tsong Emperor, on the eighth moon of the month of the pomegranate and the first year of the Jiading era, nineteenth of his dignified and wise reign, I hereby declare the initiation of the trial against Cí Song. He is accused of conspiracy, treachery, and the murder of Imperial Councilor Kan Chou, which—and this element is not open to appeal—entails the charge of treachery and an attempt against the emperor.” The man paused, looking around the room. “In accordance with the laws set out in the Songxingtong, the accused has the right to defend himself. He may not have the assistance of any other person. And he may not be condemned until he confesses.”

Cí, still prostrate, listened in silence and tried to weigh the allegations.

Next, the floor was given to Gray Fox. Cí’s rival, after complimenting the emperor and obtaining his blessing, took out a number of sheets of paper and laid them out in an orderly fashion on the table he was sharing with Feng. Then, with a self-satisfied attitude, he presented Cí’s personal details and outlined the numerous pieces of evidence that, in his opinion, demonstrated Cí’s guilt.

“Before I go into detail,” he said, “please allow me to give you an idea of the character of this con man we see here before us. I had the misfortune of studying at the Ming Academy at the same time as the accused. There he demonstrated, not once but repeatedly, his inability to respect rules and regulations. This led to his condemnation and expulsion. The only thing that slowed down this process was his defense by the director, a well-known homosexual.”

Cí cursed under his breath. Gray Fox had decided to attack him by undermining the integrity of anyone who might stand up for him. He thought of a comeback but knew he’d have to wait a while until the floor was given to him.

“Cí Song has rebellion and hate deep in his soul. The professors who sought to expel him confirmed the meanness of his conduct. It was they who had been so kind in allowing an urchin like him into the academy in the first place. He repaid their generosity by biting the hand that fed him.” Gray Fox’s face hardened. “I want to illustrate for everyone present the true character of a young man possessed by egoism and evil, who used diabolical tricks and barefaced scheming to hook Councilor Kan and even cloud our emperor’s mind. Who convinced the former to put him in charge of a very sensitive investigation and the latter to offer him a place in the judiciary if he solved it.”

Cí began to have serious concerns that Gray Fox might turn the emperor fully against him. If Ningzong was convinced, it would be even harder for Cí to make his own case. But now came his turn to speak. He had kept his forehead to the floor throughout Gray Fox’s diatribe, and he spoke his first word in that position.

“Majesty,” he said, and was invited to stand. “Majesty,” he said again, getting to his feet, “Gray Fox has seen fit to attack my person with unfounded conjecture that furthermore has nothing to do with the present case. This trial isn’t about my academic record or where I might have learned my forensic skills. The only thing being judged here today is my innocence or guilt in the murder of Councilor Kan. No matter what Gray Fox may think, I never came up with a self-serving plan, nor did I lie to, trick, or cloud anyone’s mind. Various people will be able to confirm that I was brought to the palace by Your Majesty’s soldiers; my intention that day had been to leave Lin’an. You yourself were present that day, Majesty, when I was given the task of investigating these murders, so you know better than anyone that I had no choice in the matter. And I ask: Why would a man as wise as Councilor Kan, and the Heaven’s Son himself, place their trust in an undesirable such as myself? Why, when they had the pick of so many magistrates, would they oblige a plain student who lacked anything like the appropriate qualifications?”

Cí knelt and touched his forehead to the floor again, allowing his last statement to settle. He knew it was important to be measured and calm, just as Gray Fox had been. He had to sow doubt in the minds of everyone present and allow them space to provide the answers. All he had to do was pose the questions.

The emperor was stone-faced; his pale eyes and his severe expression seemed to place him on a plane of existence above and beyond good and evil. With a gesture of his hand, he indicated to the official to give the floor back to Gray Fox.

Gray Fox looked over his notes before proceeding.

“Majesty,” he said, bowing until he received authorization to speak again. “I am more than happy to keep to the subject at hand.” He smiled, taking one of the sheets of paper and placing it on top of the others. “I see in my notes that on the day of Kan’s murder, mere hours before the act, the accused brandished a knife at him. He did it in plain sight. Furthermore, he also appropriated and brutally stabbed Soft Dolphin’s corpse, splitting it in two.”

“A dead body,” Cí whispered, but loudly enough that everyone in the room could hear. This won him a blow from one of the guards.

“Yes,” said Gray Fox, “a dead body, but just as sacred as a living one! Or perhaps the accused has forgotten the Confucian precepts that rule over our society?” Gray Fox’s voice grew louder. “No, obviously he can’t have forgotten, because something we also know about the accused is that he has a powerful memory. He knew the Confucian precepts very well, but simply chose to disobey them. He knows that to cut up a body is to attack the soul that still resides in it until the moment of burial, and I would say that anyone capable of treating a defenseless spirit in such a manner would be more than capable of attacking an emperor’s councilor as well.”

Cí gnawed his lower lip. He felt he was being corralled by Gray Fox’s argument, and his destination was like an abyss with only two bridges: one represented death, the other, damnation.

“I’m no killer,” Cí muttered through gritted teeth.

“No killer, really? On that note, I’d like to ask His Majesty’s permission to bring in a witness.”

The emperor again signaled agreement via the official.

A graying, wrinkled old man came in flanked by two sentries. His sloppy gait belied the richness of his robes, suggesting the latter had been borrowed for the day. Cí recognized the fortune-teller Xu, the man he’d worked for at the cemetery.

Gray Fox invited Xu to come nearer, read out his name, and swear to be truthful in his answers. Then Gray Fox turned to glance at Cí. Xu, though, was unable to look Cí in the eye.

“Before his testimony,” said Gray Fox, “so that we can all understand the irrefutability of the accused’s criminal nature, I feel obliged to read out the reports that followed Cí Song to Lin’an. These facts will leave us in no doubt of the accused’s familiarity with crime.

“Two years ago, in the village of his birth, which is in Jianyang, the accused’s older brother was found guilty of beheading a farmer. Cí, being possessed of the same infected, criminal blood as his brother, went on to steal three hundred thousand qián from a local landowner, an honorable man. Next, he fled with his younger sister to Lin’an, not knowing that he was pursued by a sheriff named Kao. I will skip the various crimes committed during his flight to Lin’an and merely go on to state that, in spite of the large amount of money they had with them initially, the pair soon fell into poverty. And it was then that this poor but generous man,” he continued, pointing at Xu, “took pity on the vagrant brother and sister, giving the accused a job alongside him in the city cemetery.

“And, as Xu will confirm, soon after taking the accused on, a Sheriff Kao turned up at the cemetery asking after a fugitive named Cí. Xu, knowing nothing of his employee’s crimes, and having been tricked as to his identity, protected him. As is his way, Cí responded to someone who had been good to him with betrayal. He abandoned his rescuer when he was most needed.

“A number of months later, Xu thought the episode over again and decided to see justice done. He went and told Sheriff Kao that Cí was at the Ming Academy. But Cí found Kao first and murdered him.”

Now Gray Fox invited the fortune-teller to speak. Xu prostrated himself before the emperor.

“It is exactly as the most honorable magistrate says. This sheriff, Kao, asked me to show him where the academy was. Said he’d take Cí down if it was the last thing he did. I said I didn’t want to get caught up in anything, but he talked me around. The night before he died, after I showed him where the academy was, I saw him come out with Cí. The two of them were walking together toward the canal. I noticed the sheriff was carrying a jar of drink. To begin with they seemed to be talking normally, but suddenly the discussion got heated. When the sheriff wasn’t looking, Cí came up behind him, cracked him on the head, pushed him in the canal, and ran off. I ran to try and drag Kao out, but when I got there he was already under.”

Hundreds of accusing eyes turned on Cí, and an indignant murmur went around. Cí tried to think of ways to counter these claims.

“This fortune-teller is lying!” he cried. “Majesty, with your permission, I shall demonstrate that this is not only slander but a wholesale attempt to trick everyone in this room.”

The official looked to his sovereign in search of a gesture of disapproval for Cí’s having spoken out of turn. But just as Cí had hoped, his suggestion that the emperor himself could be duped prompted Ningzong to make a sign for Cí to carry on.

Touching his forehead to the floor once more, Cí glanced at Gray Fox.

“I can’t prove it alone,” he said. “I call on Professor Ming to testify.”

The pause in the proceedings while Ming was summoned felt to Cí like a brief victory. Making the emperor feel as though he was implicated, sowing doubt in his mind, not only meant Cí would now have Ming alongside him for advice and his testimony, but also that he could initiate the second part of his plan. This involved Bo’s also taking the stand. With Feng against Cí, Ming ill, and Blue Iris nowhere to be seen, his hopes now hinged on Bo, who had been with him for the entirety of the investigation.

While they were waiting for Ming to arrive, Cí took Bo aside. Bo, though surprised to be asked for help, agreed to do what he could. Cí outlined his case, telling Bo everything he now suspected. Ming was brought in, and Bo disappeared.

Cí quickly filled Ming in on the proceedings; this was the first Ming had heard of the charges against Cí, and he was clearly struggling to take it all in. Again Cí prostrated himself before the emperor.

“Majesty, as you well know, Ming has for years been director at the academy. Its prestige is on par with that of the university. In fact, Gray Fox studied there…though I think I’m right in saying it took him six years to obtain the title most people get in two.”

Ningzong frowned, apparently troubled that the prosecution wasn’t as competent as he’d been led to believe—precisely Cí’s intent.

“Ming is the epitome of trustworthiness,” said Cí, still with his forehead to the floor. “He always conducts himself uprightly and honestly, and has done a great deal to add to the wisdom of many of Your Majesty’s subjects. He is a man who cannot be doubted.”

“And your questions?” prompted the official.

“Apologies,” said Cí, turning to face his old master. “Master Ming, do you remember the day when several of us, your students, inspected the body of a sheriff found drowned in Lin’an?”

“Of course,” said Ming. “It was a very unusual case, and the one that formed the basis of Gray Fox’s elevation to his place at court. Two days before the end-of-term exams.”

“And in the week leading up to exams, are students allowed to leave the academy at all?”

“Absolutely not. It is expressly forbidden. If special circumstances obliged someone to have to leave, the guard would note it down, and I happen to remember there was no such case that week.”

“I see. And tell me, how do your students tend to go about preparing for these exams?”

“In the preceding week they will be in the library all day, and after that, studying into the wee hours in their rooms.”

“And do you remember if, in my case, I was put with a roommate when I joined the academy?”

“Yes, of course you were. The same as any other student.”

“Which is to say, my roommate would be a reliable source of information as to whether I had left at any time leading up to or on the day of the crime?”

“In effect.”

“And, Master, would you mind relating the robbery that took place not long after the inspection of the sheriff’s corpse?”

“Robbery? Ah, yes, you mean the robbery of your report. A most disagreeable episode.” Ming now turned to address the emperor. “Cí’s report revealed that this sheriff had in fact been murdered. But the report was stolen by his roommate, presented as his own, and used to try and gain the place that had been offered at court for whoever solved the case.”

“And,” said Cí, “just one more thing: Do you happen to remember the name of my roommate?”

“Of course. Gray Fox.”

Gray Fox, crumpling his notes, let out a curse that couldn’t be heard over the clamor now filling the room. Feng, standing beside Gray Fox, looked unmoved. He passed the younger man a note and whispered something in his ear. Gray Fox quickly read the note and nodded, then stepped forward to ask permission to cross-examine the witness.

“Esteemed Master,” he said, once the noise in the room had died down and the emperor had given his consent to proceed. “Can you be totally sure that everything you’ve just said is the truth?”

“Of course!” said Ming, shocked.

“I see…All right, now would you mind telling me if you consider yourself to be an honorable person?”

“Of course.”

“Sincere? A person with integrity?”

“This is preposterous! Of course I am all of those things.”

“Not a man with vices?” asked Gray Fox.

Ming hung his head and didn’t reply.

“I’m sorry,” said Gray Fox, “did you not understand the question? Shall I ask again?”

“No,” said Ming in a small voice.

“No what? No, you’re not a man with vices, or no I don’t need to repeat the question?”

“I am not a man with vices!” Ming nearly shouted.

“Oh, really?” said Gray Fox. “So it would be incorrect to say that you have an all-consuming preference for men? It would be quite wrong to say that three years ago, a youth by the name of”—he glanced down at the note Feng had given him—“Liao-San reported you for making passes at him?”

“That was an abominable lie! Liao-San tried to blackmail me for a place at the academy, and when I refused—”

“But the two of you were found naked together.”

“Slander, and again I say, slander! It was a summer’s night, I happen to sleep without clothes, and that boy broke in looking to blackmail me.”

“Of course. But I also see in my notes that, two years ago, you were witnessed handing money to a well-known homosexual as the two of you entered a house of ill repute. And that led your own staff to recommend that you step down from your directorship.”

“Damn it! The man you are calling homosexual was my nephew, the place we were seen going into was his hostel, a perfectly respectable establishment, and, as for the money, his family had asked me to lend him some. All this was confirmed when the academy staff sought my dismissal.”

“Blackmail, slander, lies…” said Gray Fox, shaking his head. “Are you married, Ming?”

“You know the answer to that question.”

“Have you ever dated?”

Ming hung his head, his lips trembling.

“I am not a degenerate…I merely…”

“You merely find men attractive?”

“I never…”

“Let me try to understand,” said Gray Fox, coming closer. “So if it isn’t a vice to love a man, how would you define it? Love?”

“Yes, it is a form of love,” said Ming, defeated. “Is love a crime?”

“No, I don’t think so,” said Gray Fox. “Love is unconditional. Love asks nothing in return. Right?”

“Yes, yes, that’s it,” said Ming, opening his tired eyes, his gaze far off, as if pleading for understanding.

“So you’d do anything for love?”

“Anything,” he said.

“Thank you, Professor Ming. That will be all.”

Ming, visibly shaken, nodded that he understood.

Ming looked broken, and Cí felt terrible for having put him through all this. Gray Fox was positively purring. Two sentries came forward to escort Ming back to the infirmary, but just then Gray Fox looked up as though he’d remembered something.

“Oh, one last question.” He paused, looking deep in Ming’s eyes. “Could you tell us honestly if you are in love with Cí?”

Ming turned to look sadly at Cí.

“Yes,” he answered.

If such a thing were possible, Gray Fox had just gone down in Cí’s opinion. Such low-down tactics. With no better argument to make, he’d fallen back on attacking Ming, playing into the disgust most people felt about homosexuality. Ming’s admission of his feelings for Cí had damaged his credibility rather than demonstrating his commitment to honesty.

Cí asked if he could cross-examine Xu.

“Majesty!” said Gray Fox. “The accused is trying to insult your intelligence! Xu’s testimony couldn’t be clearer: he saw Cí kill the sheriff, and that’s all there is to it.”

Ningzong seemed swayed by this, and Cí cursed at not having the chance to undermine Xu’s credibility. But he tried not to let it get to him.

“In that case, I would like the men who found the sheriff’s body to testify.”

It turned out that Gray Fox himself had planned to call the same two men. Since they were already present and there would be no delay, the emperor assented. The two men were led in and confirmed their identities, and Cí began.

“Your job consists of patrolling the canals, is that correct?”

The pair nodded.

“Would you mind describing precisely what this involves, where you go, the frequency of your rounds, and so on?”

The elder of the two men spoke. “We patrol daily, checking the canals’ cleanliness, the moorings, and the sluice gates. Our area is the southern part of the city, between the fish market, the rice market, and the city walls.”

“And how long have you been in this job?”

“Thirty years, me. Him, ten.”

“That’s a lot of combined experience. I’m sure that makes a man very conscientious in his work. Anyway, whereabouts exactly did you find Kao’s body?”

“I found him,” said the younger man. “He was floating facedown in the secondary canal, not far from the market.”

“On the south side of the city?”

“Of course. Like my colleague said, that’s our area.”

“And what direction does the current flow along the canals?”

“Northward, with the River Zhe.”

“So, in your opinions, and with your long years of experience in mind, would you say that a body thrown in the canal to the north could possibly drift against the current?”

“Impossible. Even if it got snagged on something and was carried along, the sluice gates would stop it from getting very far.”

“Impossible?” repeated the emperor.

The two men looked at each other.

“Absolutely, Majesty.”

Cí turned to the emperor.

“Majesty, everyone knows Ming Academy is in the far north of the city. Xu said I pushed Kao in the canal nearest to the academy. Don’t you think it might be worth finding out what might have compelled him to lie?

Gray Fox was ashen. Xu was brought back in—he cursed the whole room and kicked and struggled until a blow from a guard’s baton brought him to his knees in front of the emperor. He grumbled and spit on the floor, casting baleful glances at Cí all the while.

“When you’re ready,” said the official to Cí.

To everyone’s surprise, instead of facing Xu, Cí turned to Gray Fox.

“Do you remember the causes of the sheriff’s death? Since the report that gained you entry to the judiciary detailed them, I imagine they are imprinted on your brain.”

Gray Fox pursed his lips and pretended to consult his notes.

“I remember perfectly well,” he said sardonically.

“And?” Cí said, as if he didn’t know already.

“He died from a rod inserted through his ear and pushed into his brain.”

“A metal rod?”

“Yes,” bristled Gray Fox.

“Like this one?” Suddenly Cí leaped at the fortune-teller and fished out a long needle that was hidden in Xu’s robes. A hush fell across the High Tribune.

Again, the color drained from Gray Fox’s face. Cí showed the needle around and, in a fury, Gray Fox excused himself from the courtroom. Cí didn’t let this knock him off course. He proceeded to accuse the fortune-teller of the murder of Sheriff Kao.

“Xu wanted the reward Kao was offering for my capture. But Kao was a wary man and would have been unlikely to hand over any money until Xu handed me right to him. I don’t know whether Xu thought Kao was trying to trick him, or if perhaps the two of them argued, but the fact is, Xu killed Kao for the money, using the same murder weapon as he always uses.” At this, he held the metal needle up to the room once more.

“Lies!” yelled Xu, which won him another blow from the guard.

“Lies, you say?” said Cí, turning to address the fortune-teller. “Witnesses have confirmed that the corpse was found near the fish market, which happens to be a stone’s throw from the houseboat you live on. As for the reward money, I wouldn’t mind betting that if His Majesty’s men were to ask in the taverns and brothels in that same area, any number of people could confirm that poor, impoverished Xu was there throwing money around in the days following Kao’s death.”

Overcome, the fortune-teller couldn’t even stammer out a defense. The look he gave the emperor asked for pity, but Ningzong was unaffected. He ordered that Xu be detained and adjourned the trial until after lunch.

When the trial resumed, Gray Fox was clearly intent on showing that he was still a worthy opponent. Feng stood alongside him, and the irony of his serene expression struck Cí even more strongly. When the emperor reentered the room, everyone bowed—everyone, that is, except for the woman who had also just entered the room. It was Blue Iris. She’d come.

Gray Fox asked permission to speak and stepped forward.

“Divine Sovereign: The fact that the despicable fortune-teller Xu tried to abuse our trust does nothing to exempt Cí of the crimes of which he is accused. On the contrary, that there is now only one murder charge against him, as I see it, clears the way for his guilt to be unveiled.” Gray Fox turned to face Cí with a wicked look in his eyes. “Clearly, the accused was hatching a diabolical plan to end Councilor Kan’s life. His idea was to dress the murder up as suicide, and he carried out the execrable plan with great meticulousness. This is the true face of Cí Song: friend to homosexuals, fugitive, murderer’s companion.”

With a discreet raising of his eyebrows, Ningzong motioned for the proceedings to continue. It was Cí’s turn to take the floor again.

“First, Your Majesty,” said Cí, coming forward and bowing, “I would like to repeat the fact that it wasn’t I who sought to work under Kan; it was under Your Highness’s orders that I joined the investigation. Now, I want to emphasize something that we see again and again in all the different legal handbooks, and that is the necessity of motive. Crimes require motives. Revenge, fits of rage, loathing, ambition—whatever it is, there has to be something that drives a man to kill.

“With this in mind, let’s think for a minute about what could have driven me to kill Kan. Let us not forget, Your Majesty had promised me a place on the judiciary if I were to solve the murders prior to Kan’s death.” Cí turned to Gray Fox. “So, I ask: Does a man who is starving chop down the only apple tree in his orchard?”

Gray Fox was completely composed, which unsettled Cí. It was Gray Fox’s turn to speak again.

“This is no place for wisecracks. You want to talk about motives? Fine, let’s talk about them. There’s actually only one piece of what Cí Song has said that is definitely true, which is the promise of a place on the judiciary if he solved the murders. So? Did you actually manage to uncover the murderer? I can’t remember having heard you talk about it.” Gray Fox’s expression was the epitome of self-satisfaction. “Revenge, loathing, yes. You refer to these things but neglect to mention they were precisely the feelings Kan stirred up in you when he threatened your beloved Professor Ming! Oh, and let’s talk about fits of rage, such as when you maimed Soft Dolphin’s poor corpse! And ambition, what about ambition? You also fail to mention the most blindingly obvious thing: that Kan’s suicide, with that rather…opportune confession note, was the only sure way—considering you had failed to actually solve the case—to win what the emperor had promised. I don’t know what everyone else here thinks, but your rather dramatic image of the orchard keeper would, I think, be more apt if we replaced the tree with a cow, and think about the starving man slaughtering it for meat rather than making do with drinking its milk.

“But anyway, since you also bring up judicial handbooks, yes, why don’t we think about something else stressed again and again in the literature when it comes to murder: opportunity. Why don’t you tell us, Cí, where you were the night Councilor Kan died?”

Cí’s heart was pounding. He glanced up at Blue Iris; that was the night they’d slept together. He knew he couldn’t mention that, but he also knew if he said he was alone in his room, neither Gray Fox nor the emperor would be satisfied.

“If you don’t mind my saying so,” Cí began, “your argument has about as much sense as a stampede of elephants.” Laughter traveled around the room. “What you neglect to mention is that Kan was both feared and disliked—everyone here knows it. There must have been dozens of people with far greater motives than those you so cheaply confer on me. Why don’t we think about this for a minute? What kind of imbecile would disclose his own crime?” Cí paused. “I’ll make it simpler for you: If I had been the murderer, why would I have been preparing to tell the emperor that Kan’s death was anything but suicide, when that would have been the perfect cover?”

Cí felt he’d knocked down the last possible strut of Gray Fox’s argument, but then he saw that the emperor looked unconvinced. Eyebrows arched, he looked disdainfully at Cí.

“You told me nothing!” boomed the emperor. “Gray Fox came to me and explained how it couldn’t have been suicide.”

Cí looked straight at Feng; Cí now knew the judge’s final betrayal.

The evening rituals meant another interruption in the proceedings, which were set to resume the next morning. But the emperor had ruled that Cí had to spend the night in the dungeon, lest he try to flee.

No sooner had the guard locked Cí in his cell than Feng walked into the dungeon. He gestured for the guard to leave him alone with the prisoner. Before going outside, the guard chained Cí to the wall.

There was a bowl of soup on the floor between Cí and Feng. Cí hadn’t eaten all day but had little stomach for food now.

“You must be hungry.” Feng pushed the bowl toward Cí. “I’ll help you sip some.”

Cí kicked the bowl, and the soup went all over Feng’s robes. Feng jumped backward. Wiping the soup off, he gave Cí a resigned look, like a father whose child has just vomited on him.

“Calm yourself,” he said condescendingly. “I know you must be upset, but there’s still a way to clear everything up.” He came and sat beside Cí. “This has all gone quite far enough.”

Cí couldn’t even look at Feng. How could he once have considered such a man a father figure? If he hadn’t been chained to the wall, he would have strangled him then and there.

“Fine, say nothing. I can understand how you feel. I understand entirely if you don’t even want to listen to me and you’d rather just wait for Gray Fox to finish shredding you.” He asked the guard to bring another bowl of soup, but when it was put in front of Cí, he kicked it away again.

“You eat it, you bastard!” shouted Cí.

“Oh, so you have still got your tongue! Listen to me now. There are forces at work here you don’t know about. This trial isn’t really about you. Trust in me and forget about trying to win. Kan’s dead; what does it matter how? Just keep your mouth shut and wait for me. I’ll step in and discredit Gray Fox, and you’ll be off the hook.”

“Just forget about it? Like it’s someone else here in this cell, someone else who’s had his ribs cracked?”

“Damn it, Cí. All I wanted was to keep you out of this so Gray Fox would take over the investigation. It would have been far easier if he hadn’t been so envious of you and dragged you into it with these accusations.”

“Why would I believe anything you say? Gray Fox said he worked out that Kan’s death wasn’t a suicide. And you said nothing about how I had explained it all to you!”

“I would have, if it would have done any good. If I’d broken cover then, it might have made the emperor doubt me somehow. And the most important thing, if I am going to help you, is for the emperor to continue to trust me.”

For the first time since Feng had come in, Cí looked him in the eye.

“The same way you helped my father?” he spit.

Feng’s jaw dropped. “I—I don’t know what you mean.”

“There’s a piece of paper in the pocket inside my jacket. Reach in and get it.”

Feng leaned toward Cí, pulled the paper out, and unfolded it, astonished. His hands trembled as he read it.

“Recognize that, by any chance?”

“Where did you find this?” Feng stammered.

“Is that why you prevented my father from coming back to Lin’an? Just so you could carry on embezzling salt shipments? And is that why you did away with the eunuch? Because he figured it out, too?”

Feng backed away as if confronted by a ghost, his eyes wide.

“How dare you? After all I’ve done for you!”

“You duped my father, you duped us all!” Cí strained at the chains. “You really expect me to be thankful?”

“Your father should have kissed my feet rather than crossing me.” Feng’s face still had the contorted look. “I raised him out of poverty! And you, I treated you like a son!”

“You would dirty my father’s name by even speaking it!” The chains shook as Cí tried to get free.

“You really don’t get it!” Feng bellowed, his eyes smoldering madly. “I nurtured you like the offspring I could never sire. I protected you! With the explosion, I allowed you to live! Why do you think it was only the others who died? I could just as easily have waited for you to get back.” He reached out his trembling hand to stroke Cí’s face.

Cí felt torn apart by Feng’s words.

“What explosion? Wh—what do you mean, allowed me to live?”

He felt his world crumbling around him.

Feng stood with his arms outstretched, inviting Cí to embrace him.

“Son,” he sobbed.

Cí moved toward Feng for the embrace. The instant he was close enough, he wrapped his chains around Feng’s neck and pulled them tight. Feng kicked and struggled but couldn’t get free. Cí strangled his old master with all his might. Feng’s face turned blue, and saliva frothed from his lips. Cí knew Feng was near death, but just then, the guard rushed in and delivered a hard blow to Cí’s head.

The last thing Cí saw before he lost consciousness was Feng, on the floor, gasping for air, coughing violently, and promising Cí the most horrific of deaths.