And so as we continue, the officials of Zhengzhou have jointly prepared petitioned the Emperor Renzong. Now, the Son of Heaven himself received the memorial and spread it out upon his desk.
"The governor of Zhengzhou has been murdered by a sorcerer," he announced to the assembled court. "The officials there report they have begun rooting out and eliminating the problem." Then, in the silence that followed, an official of the court historian's office came forth with another memorial.
"A sorcerer's star has appeared in the night," the document stated. "It was right above Pisces, shining down onto the Wei region, the principal site of the recent disorders. We beseech his Imperial Majesty in all his infinite wisdom to make timely preparations!"
The Emperor spoke: "This new incident breaks out in Zhengzhou, and now the court historian reports that a sorcerer's star has appeared! These are terribly serious matters. All of you," he exhorted the officials, "get to work on your recommendations!"
The ministers then memorialised the throne: "The post of governor of Kaifeng Fu is vacant. An honest, upright and capable man should be selected for the post, hopefully one who can lead a campaign to root out and crush the sorcerers."
"And whom might you deem the most fit to take command of Kaifeng Fu?" asked the Emperor.
"The General Secretary of the Grand Dragon Memorial Hall, Bao Zheng," answered the ministers; "native of Hefei, already honored with the title Xiren. He's a selfless man, hard as steel, who never cracks a smile. People say that a laugh from him is as rare as the Yellow River running clear. He is certainly capable of the job."
Renzong prepared a rescript and ordered it proclaimed to the court, then retired to his quarters.
Ordered to take office at once, Bao Zheng went forth with a deep sense of gratitude and a determination to fulfill the Imperial trust in him. The leading citzens of Kaifeng escorted him to their district yamen and the inaugural ceremonies and cutting of new seals and othger preparations were accomplished, and he moved into his new office that very day. He then issued his commands to the greater capital area and all the counties thereof.
First came registration; five families in a jia, meaning "basic shell", with each 5,525 of these units organized into a body known as a bao, meaning "protection". Wandering idlers without family ties or roots were not permitted residency. Any such outsiders were to be interrogated as to their origins and recent travels. And everywhere the inns were forbidden to admit single or unaccompanied guests. All told, the capital had twenty-eight major and minor gates, and signboards were put up proclaiming the new regulations. Then the great masses of people all began burning joss and worshipping. "Three cheers for the great Grand Dragon Governor Bao!" they shouted. "It's wonderful how he's brought us all together in these fine militias!" It was like this:
And so people politely and generously yielded to one another while walking or driving in the streets, and each sang praises of peace and brotherhood; lost valuable were safe anywhere and doors remained open at night. Needless to say, order had been restored in the capital.
Now a short time afterwards let us look in on the city's riverfront section, where there lived a street vendor named Ren Qian. Known to all as "Little Big Brother, he was a member of the "Five Hots" guild. And why was this association so called? Well, back in those days a soupseller's stall was called a "Hot Soup", a hotcake seller's a "Fire Hot", a salted fish vendor a "Hot Pickles", a seller of steamed buns a "Steamy Hot", and one selling meat dumplings a "Greasy Hot". Hence the name "Five Hots" for these food vendors as a group.
Little Big Brother was a fine businessman, strongly competitive and successful. After a day at home preparing his treats he loaded them all into his case. He had steamed buns, hotcakes, dumplings and stuffing, all cooked to perfection. Then he shouldered his wares with a carrying pole to a certain main corner in Mahang Street where he set the case down to serve as his shop, himself seated on a three legged stool behind it just like all the other surrounding young men and boys of the trade. But on that day, amidst the shouts of all of them hawking their treats in the busy thoroughfare, a young man stopped alongside his little counter without buying any of his cakes. And as the vendors young and old shouted out one after another, so did that one from the temple dance and play his Daoist's round chime, for all appearances like a man of prayer waving his own signboard. Then continuing to play his chime ring and chant, he passed again by Ren Qian's little box.
"Come ye gods of wealth, prosperity, harmony!" he chanted, staring Ren in the eye. "Come all ye with money!" The vendor couldn't help but laugh at him. Now, that priest was so very short and one of his legs was crippled, causing him to hobble as he walked. His turban had fallen down over his forehead and was torn and unkempt on top, allowing his hair to stick out like wild grass. He was dressed in a shabby gown and old cloth pants like a worn out lion suit; on his feet were floppy straw sandals and around his waste was a frayed old black sash.
"Watch your step, holy man!" said Ren Qian, laughing. "Careful you don't step on any rats' tails! This is a bit early to be out praying, but it looks as though you don't care about time anyway."
"Well, it is a bit early, but I've still managed to get three coppers!" replied Master Que.
"Why don't you wait until a bit later?" asked the vendor.
"Please don't take offense, brother! My mother and sister are waiting for me in a wretched shack without any breakfast to eat. Can I trouble you for a copper to get them some rice with, so that they might have a bit of porridge?"
The situation sounded awful enough to Ren Qian and he wanted to help out, but reaching into his changebelt he remembered that he'd brought no coins. "Why, business hasn't really started yet," he apologised; "I haven't taken in a single cent."
"Brother!" said the priest upon hearing this. "How about selling me two hotcakes?"
"The large ones are two coppers each, the smaller ones just a copper."
Master Que reached into his bosom and pulled out three coins, which he deposited in the cash plate on the counter. Ren Qian took two of them and returned one to Master Que. "I've only just opened up, so let me give this back to you," he said; the Daoist then put it back on the box. The vendor then reached into his bamboo case and took out two cakes, large and small, which he passed to the priest. Now when Que reached out to receive them Ren Qian noticed how dirty and filth-encrusted his hands were. "Sheesh!" he mumbled, "how long has it been since this fellow last washed?" And then after receiving the cakes Master Que took his time squeezing and examining them.
"Brother!" he complained. "My mother is in her eighties. How can she chew such hard cakes? Let me change this for a steamed bun, will you?"
"Who would want it after it's been in your filthy hands?" mumbled Ren Qian. He then reached back into his case and brought out a hot steamed bun for the Daoist.
"Brother!" wheedled Que. "What is in this bun?"
"It's stuffed with meat," answered the vendor.
"Brother! My mother is a lifelong vegetarian!" complained Que. "Give me the sweetbread in its place!"
"The business day hasn't even started and I run into this!" grumbled the vendor, refusing this latest demand. But as he stood firm, a number of folks began gathering noisely around his stand. He could only comply with a sigh, exchanging it for the confection. Once again Master Ques kneaded the product with his grimey fingers. "How can this fill anyone up? Give me back the hotcake if you would!"
Ren Qian now leapt up off of his stool in anger. "I've got a mind to let you all starve!" he scolded. For two coppers I've already let you ruin three pieces of my merchandise! No more exchanges! This is final!"
"Brother!" begged Que. "Don't get excited. How can my womenfolk eat their full on just these hotcakes, without rice porridge?"
He then reached out, snatched back the coin atop the counter and walked off.
"That's the last straw!" screamed Ren Qian. "You ruin my merchandise and now where do you think you're going with that?" He then ran after Master Que and began beating him, but suddenly froze in his tracks and reconsidered. Would it be worth those few punches and kicks if he were to slip and kill the man and be tried for his own life? He turned away in resignation, but upon looking back into his box he could only cry out in despair, for all of his buns and cakes were now as black as charcoal. And here is a poem:
Ren Qian was now furious. "This creep annoys me all morning and then ruins all the goods in my box. It's time to call it quits for the day and go after him once and for all!"
He then called over to the other vendors to look after his things while he went off, fists and feet at the ready, to pursue Master Que. For half a day he searched with all of his youthful vigor without finding a trace of Master Que. Finally, on his way home he heard a great commotion in the street ahead and wondered if it couldn't just be that character. Pressing on ahead he could see nothing, but as he passed below the Great Anshang Gate he turned to see a large crowd in front of a butcher's shop that he knew.
"Why, it's the Zhangs!" he gasped. "Wonder what happened to bring out all those folks!" He stepped on into that forest of people and spotted a woman lying in the street. A youth was propping her up and trying persistantly to revive her. After awhile she came round, but kept her eyes tightly closed. "Mother!" said the young man. "Relax and try to open your eyes!"
"Carry me back home!" she pleaded, weakly.
"Open your eyes!" pleaded the man.
"Oh I'm so frightened!" she whispered. "They won't open!"
The youth then carried the old woman off by himself. "Wonder what made the old woman faint like that!" thought Ren Qian. Then he saw butcher Zhang. "Move on, everyone!" he was shouting. "There's nothing to see!" Ren Qian recognised him at once as Zhang Qi, a senior of his circle. "Hey there, Number One!" he called. "It's been a while!"
"Ah, why it's Brother Ren!" grinned the butcher. "What brings you round?"
"Just out chasing after something."
"Come on in, Brother Ren, and I'll tell you all about what just happened!"
Ren Qian went inside. "What was all that commotion at your door?" he asked.
"I've never before seen such a strange thing! This limping Daoist had just come by wearing a turban on his head and a shabby gown, holding a chime ring in his hands. He was chanting something like "Come ye gods of wealth, prosperity, harmony, come money, come!" or whatever. I asked him if he didn't think it was a bit early for that, if he couldn't tell what time of day it was through his temple window or what. He told me he was broke and to stop making fun of him. Then he began oogling a pig's head hanging in front of my shop, feeling it and mumbling something. Next he came inside ringing his chime. I ignored him on account of some business. The florist Zhai's second son from next door had ordered that pig's head for his mother and the old woman had come in to pick it up. No sooner had I taken it down and handed it to her than it opened its eyes and snapped at the woman, scaring her out of her wits and making her pass out on the floor. I shouted to that little scholar of mine to go fetch her second son and fortunately he was able to revive her. But who knows the ups and downs these things can take? We might all end up being grilled by the law! Anyway, when her son picked up that pig's head it was completely still. Zhai Erlang said that his mother was a bit old and dodgey and must have been seeing things, and that he couldn't imagine how a dead pig could open its eyes, and then he just carried his mother home."
Now after hearing this Ren Qian told butcher Zhang the story of Master Que and the hotcakes, from beginning to end.
"How bizarre!" gasped the butcher. "How very strange!" And just as he stopped speaking what did they hear but the ringing of that very same priest's chime!
"He's right under our noses!" said Ren Qian.
"Hold on," said the butcher. "He really didn't do enough damage by ruining your cakes to justify a beating. It was me that he really endangered by harming the old woman. I'm the right one to give the rascal a real thumping!"
"Let's you and me go after him together!" said Ren. The two of them set out on the chase, but after quite awhile they found nothing. Butcher Zhang looked blankly at Ren Qian.
"What should we do? Keep chasing him or break it off? Now that we've lost him, I say let's call it quits and go home!"
Just as they began walking back, however, they once again heard that Daoist's chime ring, and chased on for yet another five or six li. They could hear the bell but they couldn't catch up with it no matter what! They finally gave up and went home, only to see a man with a stick beating someone in the doorway of a noodle shop in the market. Butcher Zhang recognised the owner, Wu Sanlang, who stopped striking and explained.
"The shop was full of customers in a hurry for their noodles and I told him to hurry up and make a fire. But no matter how he stacked the wood it just wouldn't catch. After waiting for so long everybody just left. If this happens all the time I might just as well close up shop! I'll give him something to remember for this!"
"Stop hitting him!" said Zhang. "I mean it. Look at me!"
"And aren't you just out loafing on the job yourself?" asked Wu.
The butcher then told him about Master Que and all that had just happened. Wu Sanlang was momentarily speechless.
"I realise I've wrongly beaten him!" he then blurted out. "Listen to this, you two. That monk of yours was just here. I was at my stove when I heard the chime, and he chanted that same line. I was really busy and I asked him if he didn't think it was a bit early for prayers, and if he he was too afraid of ghosts to go out at night. I said I didn't have any money and that he'd have to leave empty-handed. He just looked at my cooking pots and blew a little puff of his breath, then left. Afterwards I told my little scholar here to light the fire but somehow he couldn't get it going. We had two mountains of food to cook and no fire! All of those customers got tired of waiting for their food and left, and that's why I up and beat him! I never would have known the truth if you hadn't come along. I can't stand the way he's hurt us like this, ruining a whole day's business..."
Suddenly as he spoke they heard the chime again. Wu Sanlang gazed out in time to see that character hobbling right up the street. "After him!" the three shouted as one.
The priest spotted them coming and made off in great haste. Now, on account of their pursuit of Master Que there is more to come; arriving at a lonely shrine they are bound to witness something truly strange! It was like this:
As to where their chasing after Master Que will lead, and what will happen afterwards just turn the page and read...
Conclusion of Chapter 27 Click to continue to Chapter 28 Table of Contents