by AnonYMous
“If you want to bring a lawsuit, I can’t stop you, but before you do, you’d better hand Miss Lucky over to Master Bai and let him pass her on to them. Otherwise, how is he going to be able to face them? And if you’re planning to rely on the support of those aides, how could they continue to come here all the time? Not in a million years will they ever show their faces again. If you don’t plan to do business in Yangzhou anymore, go right ahead, file your lawsuit and then fold up. But think for a moment first: how much money do you owe your creditors? You surely don’t imagine that after you file your lawsuit they won’t want their money, do you? You’d do far better to swallow your anger. I suggest that Master Bai and I meet those people on the Parade tomorrow and talk to them about returning the things that they took. As the owner, you ought also to get them to look out for your interests in the future.”
“You’re quite right, sir,” put in Sanzi. “Just now his anger is clouding his judgment. Take no notice of him. We should follow your advice.” Yu Jiafu smoked for some time and did not leave until after midnight. The meeting was arranged for early next morning at the Cold Garden. Whoever arrived first would wait there for the others.
Next morning, when Yu Jiafu and the two runners arrived at the Cold Garden teahouse, Bai Shixin was already there. He called them over to join him, and they drank tea and had some breakfast. A little later, You Deshou, Yan Xiang, and the members of the band they had assembled the night before came streaming in one after the other. Yu Jiafu and Bai Shixin rose to their feet and beckoned them over, and together they filled several tables. Ordering noodles, pastries, tripe dumplings, and wheat cakes in onion sauce, they fell upon the food like starving tigers, with constant shouting and bickering. Yu Jiafu waited until everyone had finished his breakfast before getting up and going over to the other tables and pouring tea for them. “Brothers!” he began, “I made a point of coming here today to ask for your kind consideration. Qiang Da doesn’t know how to treat people properly, but I hope that as a favor to me you will overlook that. Let him make up for all his faults by paying for a banquet. You should also be good enough to return the things that you took from his house.”
“I was too young, sir, and I’d spent too little time about town to know that you were looking after the interests of that house,” said You Deshou. “But Qiang Da really did look down on us, and so we fully intended to grab a couple of his girls yesterday and force him out of business. But we were stopped by that redeeming spirit,3 Master Bai, and then by you, when you came rushing up. None of us young fellows could possibly ignore your wishes, my dear sir. We’re only too grateful to you for putting in an appearance at the teahouse today. We’ve long admired you as a great fellow, even though we have never tried to cultivate your acquaintance. By rights we ought to do just as you say, but we have not overdone it so far, and this suggestion of yours is something we simply cannot live with. We certainly don’t want the stigma of taking Qiang’s property, so we’ll return everything that belongs to the house. But get him to put on two plays and provide a banquet with ten tables for us, and we’ll forgive him. Otherwise, tell him to get a warrant for our arrest. We’ll accept it.”
“What are you saying, Brother You?” said Yu Jiafu. “Qiang Da may not know how to treat people properly, but I’m not exactly stupid. With a little education, I might even qualify as a friend. In the past we could have honored your request for plays, but you must bear in mind that Qiang Da’s business really is in a bad way. I’m not just pleading poverty. Ask Master Bai—he’ll tell you the same thing.”
You Deshou was adamant. He was on the point of leaving when Bai Shixin caught his arm and gave it a pinch or two. “Don’t try to drive too hard a bargain with Master Yu,” he said. “As the saying goes, ‘Even the cleverest daughter-in-law can’t make rice gruel without rice.’ With regard to the way Qiang Da’s treated you, I’d be inclined to resent it, too. But in this case, don’t look at the one who’s playing with the dragon lantern, look at the one who sends in his card. Put the responsibility on Master Yu. Since Qiang Da’s business really is in bad shape, and he can’t afford to put on any plays, let him pay for his sins by laying on a four-table banquet at the Beijing restaurant. Come on, take the offer, brothers. Let the man live.”
At a nearby table sat a number of fellows who regularly got free meals at the brothels. They now came over and urged an amicable solution, offering themselves as mediators. Once the matter was settled, they would all go off together to dinner and things would return to normal. Two of the men who had gone to the brothel the previous night with You Deshou now tried their best to persuade him to accept the proposal. “There’s no need to say another word,” they insisted. “Put all the responsibility on Fourth Master.”
A deeply pained You Deshou called the pair of young toughs over and gave them instructions: “See you return all the clothes and jewelry you took last night to Qiang Da’s house. We’ll be waiting for you at the Beijing restaurant.”
One of the pair was a man named Qian Guanzhi. His late father had been a loan shark who built up a considerable fortune, taking particular delight in acts of petty chicanery. Whenever he bought a piece of property, he would delay the closing until a few hours before the New Year,4 when the silver he paid over would be low grade and mixed with lead. Pity the poor seller, with goodness knows how many debts waiting to be settled from the proceeds of the sale! If he objected to the quality of the silver, the loan shark would simply refuse to go through with the closing, and so the seller would have no choice but to swallow his anger and write off the loss. At the time of his death, the property the father left was worth ten thousand taels. Qian Guanzhi was even more crafty and devious than his father, but somehow or other he proved just too crafty and devious, for before the year was out he had craftily managed to lose the entire fortune that his father had worked so hard to amass. Fortunately, his wife was quite good-looking, and she formed secret liaisons with several men. Qian Guanzhi himself joined You Deshou’s group, running about with them and doing the heavy work for them. Because his father had left him a fortune and he had failed to keep it, people called him String of Cash instead of using his proper name.5
The other man was Yu Zhao, whose mother and wife both worked as matchmakers. Yu himself had put in a few days as a runner at the yamen, but he thought of himself as a tough character and took a vicious tone with people, which caused them to call him the Viper. Both men hurried off to carry out You Deshou’s instructions.
Yu Jiafu saw that Sanzi from Qiang Da’s house was sitting nearby drinking tea, and he whispered to him: “Go back to the house and see if there’s anything still missing after they’ve returned the goods. Then hurry back and report to me at the Beijing restaurant.”
After reckoning up the cost of the breakfast at each table, Yu Jiafu told the waiter to go to Qiang Da’s house to collect the money. He then invited You Deshou and his followers as well as Bai Shixin and the would-be swindlers to move to the Beijing restaurant outside Little East Gate, where they filled four tables. Yu Jiafu told the waiter to serve wine and prepare the dishes. At this point Qian Guanzhi and Yu Zhao came racing in, panting and sweating, and reported to You Deshou, then took their seats at the other end of his table. Next Sanzi came in and quietly drew Yu Jiafu outside. “They’ve brought the things back. There are only some odds and ends still missing, worth no more than one or two thousand cash altogether. However, they’ve returned neither Miss Lucky’s jewelry nor the money and note that they took from her purse.”
“If we bring it up with them now, no one’s going to produce the goods. We’ll just have to take the loss and put it down to bad luck.”
“The boss wants you to go over to the house. He has something important he wants to talk to you about.”
“I’ll go over as soon as I leave here.”
Returning to the restaurant, Yu Jiafu picked up the wine jug and was about to go around the tables toasting the guests, when You Deshou and his men leapt to their feet and p
rotested, “No, no! Let us!” Bai Shixin snatched the jug away from him and said, “Do sit down. Let me pour the wine for you.”
Yu Jiafu gave a sweeping bow to his guests. “Brothers,” he began, “in all matters from now on please keep an eye out for Qiang Da’s interests, for my sake.” Now that they had been mollified, You Deshou and his men had no further use for the proprieties. They took Yu Jiafu by the hand and pulled him down to join them. Then they played guess-fingers and indulged themselves until they were gorged and drunk before they finally left the restaurant.
After seeing them out the door, Yu Jiafu expressed his gratitude to Bai Shixin. “Yesterday I was in a fix,” said Bai, “and I went to visit Qiang Da to see if he could help me out. I just happened to be there when they caused all that trouble. I hope I can count on you for help, Brother.”
“Give me a day or two.”
“I’d be ever so grateful,” said Bai as he took his leave.
Yu Jiafu reckoned up the cost of the meal, tips, and tobacco, and told the restaurant to collect the money from Qiang Da, then left the restaurant with the two runners and headed for his own place.
If you are wondering what Qiang Da wanted to tell Yu Jiafu, you must turn to the next chapter.
CHAPTER NINE
Hooligans send in their cards and collect gratuities,
And petitioners protest injustice and start lawsuits.
Yu Jiafu and the two runners went up to Paria’s room in Qiang Da’s house, where Qiang joined them and thanked them for their help. He ordered tea and tobacco and arranged for an opium lamp to be lit so that Yu Jiafu could satisfy his habit.
The moment Lucky heard of their arrival, she rushed in and greeted them. “I quarreled with them over those things of yours—jewelry, a silver dollar, and a note,” Yu Jiafu told her, “but no one would own up to having them. I’m afraid you’re just fated to lose out on this. One day I’ll catch a wild pig1 and make it up to you.”
“Thank you, godfather, for all the trouble you’ve taken,” she said. Noticing that the lamp was lit, she said, “Let me get the pellet ready for you.” She lay on the bed and prepared the opium with the pick. Yu Jiafu lay down and began to smoke.
Qiang Da took a seat beside him. “Tell me, Master Yu, how on earth am I going to keep this place going?” he asked. “Business is getting steadily worse, and in the last few days I’ve had to deal with invitations to those hooligans, as well as with name cards, weddings, and funerals, and I simply can’t cope. Not only do I not know some of the people who send in cards, I’ve never even heard of them. What’s even more absurd, that old fellow from Luzhou who used to sell tobacco outside the yamen gate, the one known as Paper Tiger, sent in a card under the name of Liu Shi, and yesterday he came along to collect his gratuity. I gave him the standard eighty cash, and he just stood there and kicked up the most terrible fuss in a mixture of accents. Luckily he ran into a client who knew him and who forked out a few dozen cash, and after that he finally took himself off. Whether these people are men or ghosts, they’re equally vicious. Frankly, I don’t know what it is they expect. Yesterday the local warden, Fang Sheng, brought me in a petition that he said had come from old man Bi—I haven’t told you about it. And now today Fang has brought me in another one that he says is from the military licentiate Bao Qiong. None of these things is very important, but all of them cost money. Before I know where I am, we’ll be in the middle of the Dragon Boat Festival. Tell me, how am I going to cope?”
“Let me see the petitions,” said Yu Jiafu. Qiang Da went inside and came back with two petitions on white document paper. Yu Jiafu told Qiang Da to hand them to Wang Seven. “I can’t read,” he said to Wang. “You read it out to me.” Wang read one, as follows:
Petition prepared by Bao Qiong, military licentiate, and presented by his agent, Li Sheng.
I beg to inform you of the seduction of my nephew by a prostitute and also of an act of violence perpetrated by people relying on superior numbers.
Following the death of my brother, I brought my nephew Bao Jing back to my house and raised him. Failing to complete his studies, he gave himself up to idleness and dissipation. Despite frequent remonstrances from me, he did not reform his ways but sometimes stayed out all night. On more than one occasion he took clothes and jewelry from my house. I intended to have him declared incorrigible but was deterred by his widowed mother’s protectiveness toward him.
On the eighth of this month my degenerate nephew was so brazen as to sneak my wife’s gold earrings, silver bracelets, gold rings, and so forth out of the house. For several days thereafter he did not show his face at home. I searched high and low for him and found that Qiang Da, who keeps a brothel on Ninth Lane, had enticed him in and concealed him in the house. I went there to find my nephew and personally observed him sitting at a table and drinking wine with Paria, Lucky, and other prostitutes. I was about to roar at him when, to my surprise, Qiang Da drew himself up and came forward and blocked my way. After hiding my nephew, he had the effrontery to threaten me with violence. Following a brief argument, he ordered a number of servants, both male and female, to charge at me and beat me up. Since I was on my own, it was not possible for me to contend with them, and I hastily made my escape.
I appealed to the local warden for protection, but he paid no attention. Acts such as harboring prostitutes to lure young men of good family and leading a group of people to commit violence are against the law. If this affair is not investigated and prosecuted, my nephew will surely meet his death at their hands. To complete the information, I have asked the local warden to file a report.
I humbly request Your Honor to speedily grant that constables be dispatched to arrest Qiang Da and investigate the case thoroughly, that my nephew and the articles he took from us be turned over to me, and that punishment be administered according to the law. This petition that I have prepared is the truth.
When Wang had finished reading it, Yu Jiafu asked Qiang Da: “What made Bao Qiong decide to play the petition game?”
“I happened to run into him at the Willow Lane opium parlor the other day, and he asked me for money to buy a couple of packets, but I didn’t give him any. I expect that’s why he’s making trouble.”
“Look, if you make your living running a brothel, you need to keep your wits about you. Even if you’d bought him the two packets, at most it would have cost you only a few dozen cash. You must realize that you’ll never be able to settle for as little as that now.” He turned to Wang: “Now read me the other one.”
Petition prepared by Bi Qingjia, Candidate for Subprefect, and presented by his agent, Wang Shun.
I beg to inform you of a display of violence on the part of a brothel keeper and of the urgent need for an investigation. My family is originally from Huizhou, but I live on Eighth Lane in the Old City of Yangzhou. While returning home last night, I was passing along Ninth Lane when in the distance I saw flames leaping into the sky and heard a flurry of shouts and cries. I assumed that some house had caught fire and went ahead to investigate, only to find that it was the prostitutes Cassia, Lucky, and others from the house of the veteran brothel keeper Qiang Da returning from an assignment. Their bearers were fighting with their torches in front of the gate, blocking the lane. I ordered them to give way, but instead they turned violent. Qiang Da was present, but rather than shout at them to stop, he had the gall to order the bearers, the brothel steward, and his servants to rush at me and beat me. Their torches badly singed my clothes, which are available for Your Honor’s inspection. Fortunately there were some people passing by, and I managed to make my escape. I informed the local warden, but he took no action. I submit that harboring prostitutes is against the law, and that leading others to commit acts of violence is even more illegal. If these matters are not investigated, the neighborhood will not be safe. To complete this information, I have asked the warden to file his report.
I humbly request that Your Honor look into this matter and order arrests and investigations to
uphold law and morality. In this petition that I have prepared everything is the truth.
“Why is the old fellow doing this, too?” asked Yu Jiafu.
“He always comes along at festival time for his gratuity. Last year, during the New Year festival, he came for it on the very day the kitchen god was being sent off.2 Then in the second month he sent in his card, and I responded. The other day he happened to see me on the Parade and asked me to help him out by lending him a few hundred cash. I told him I’d done no business in days and turned him down. I suppose that must be the reason.”
“That was another mistake on your part. You just weren’t very smart. If you had given him the two hundred when he brought up the matter, that would have been the end of it. Now you’re going to have to pay out a bit more. People like that will first cook up a petition, assuming it’s the key to success. If you don’t buy into it, they’ll spend a few cash on a charge and submit it to the magistrate of one of the counties, or to the prefectural registry, or to the police department, and for those people the accusation is as good as a banknote. The officials will send out a runner, and you may be sure it will cost you money—nine or ten silver dollars at the very least. And you’ll have to buy off the plaintiff, too, before you can settle the case. What you’re doing is called ‘losing a lot to gain a little.’ If you’re going to run one of these damned places, you’ve got to be savvy and loosen your purse strings. As the saying goes, ‘Brothel inflow, brothel outflow.’ Without these expenses, the owners of these damned rice bowls would all be as rich as salt merchants. Give me the petitions, and tomorrow I’ll meet both men on the Parade and lay out a few cash on a confounded meal.”