by Grace Lin
She poured the tea, steam misting as the amber liquid filled the rosewood-colored cups. The familiar fragrance wafted in the air and calmed Widow Yan and Master Chao even as they began to flush in the heat. They sipped wordlessly, the black tops of their heads blazing, but the space between them did not seem unfriendly.
However, the silence continued, and Peiyi’s second smile at MeiLan was less bright. Peiyi and Rendi slowly brought the small dishes of pork dumplings and fried taro cakes. They looked at each other furtively as Peiyi put down the last dish, which seemed to be filled with small, deep black pearls sprinkled with jade circles of sliced green onions.
“What are these?” Master Chao said, reaching for them with his chopsticks. As he chewed and swallowed, his eyebrows raised, and before he could stop himself, he gasped, “Delicious!”
Curious, Widow Yan took some and found herself closing her eyes in delight. “It is delicious,” she said. “It could be served to the emperor himself.”
“So you can agree on some things,” Madame Chang said. Her words reminded Widow Yan and Master Chao of their dislike for each other, and the stony stillness returned. “If I understand correctly, your first disagreement was over snails?”
The silence snapped.
“If your great-grandfather had not thrown the snails…” Widow Yan spat.
“My great-grandfather?!” Master Chao bellowed. “It was your ancestor who threw the snails!”
“It was a plague of snails!” Widow Yan said. “He ruined our garden!”
“Your snails destroyed our garden,” Master Chao said bitterly, “and they are still there. Those disgusting things! No good for anything!”
“Other than causing a quarrel that breaks your families apart?” Madame Chang asked quietly.
Her words were spoken like raindrops, but they fell upon both Master Chao and Widow Yan like an avalanche of stones, forcing them to see thoughts and memories that had been hidden. Insults and words disappeared, and Master Chao found himself thinking of Jiming, whom he had tried hard not to think of since that last slammed door. Master Chao looked down at his teacup, where one drop of liquid sat at the bottom, like a lone tear.
Widow Yan glanced at MeiLan standing beside her. How pale MeiLan was, frail and thin as if the sunlight could be seen through her. When was the last time MeiLan had truly smiled?
The sun shifted over them as if trying to expose a shared secret, and finally Master Chao and Widow Yan looked up. Their eyes met, grief-stricken mirrors of each other’s.
“The snails are good for something else too,” Mr. Shan said unexpectedly. Master Chao’s and Widow Yan’s sorrowful thoughts turned to bafflement, for Mr. Shan was looking at them with an amused expression, like a boy watching small dogs play.
“Those snails,” he cackled, “those snails are also good to eat!”
Rendi and Peiyi began to laugh as Master Chao and Widow Yan continued to stare. Their laughter had just reached a hysterical pitch when Peiyi gestured to the food they had eaten. “The snails!” she gasped between giggles. “You just ate them!”
“Those are snails?” Master Chao said, slowly understanding. He took another mouthful, chewing thoughtfully. His face brightened, and his mind began to move with ideas like clicking abacus beads. “If I could serve this…”
“I could add this to my tofu recipe,” Widow Yan said. The corners of her mouth began to creep upward as she thought. “I could…”
“You could sell it at the inn,” Mr. Shan said with a jovial wave of his arm. They looked at him blankly, and he laughed as if they had told a joke. “The inn sells Widow Yan’s food! Then Master Chao gets more customers, and Widow Yan makes more money. Both help each other, and the snails are the best things to grow in the garden after all! Question answered!”
Mr. Shan continued to laugh to himself. He took the toad out of his pocket and began to walk away. Madame Chang smiled and joined him, leaving the others to watch with hopeful eyes.
Master Chao and Widow Yan looked at each other sheepishly. After a moment, Master Chao shrugged, and Widow Yan gave him a small, wry smile. Then Master Chao poured Widow Yan a cup of tea.
CHAPTER
19
Preferring to continue their conversation out of the heat of the sun, Master Chao and Widow Yan walked together into the inn. Their shadows trailed behind them, and when the back door closed, Peiyi and MeiLan began to jump up and down. Even Rendi grinned.
“Now Jiming can come home!” Peiyi squealed. She grabbed MeiLan’s waist and danced around her. “You can get married!”
And I can leave, Rendi thought. He looked up at the sun, gleaming in the sky like a burning piece of coal. It’s hot to travel by walking, though. Maybe I’ll wait a few more days. It might get cooler.
“I can’t believe it,” MeiLan said in dazed delight. “How did this happen?”
“It’s because Mr. Shan knew the answer!” Peiyi said. “Rendi told the story and Madame Chang asked Mr. Shan, and now everything is good!”
Rendi could see that MeiLan had no idea what Peiyi was talking about but was too full of happiness to ask for further explanations.
“We have to tell Jiming!” MeiLan said. Suddenly her smile waned, and the brightness in her eyes dimmed. “But how?”
“He’ll come back,” Peiyi said. “He has to come back, right?”
“I don’t know,” MeiLan said, and she untangled herself from Peiyi’s arms. “We don’t even know where he is.”
“But…” Peiyi said, and she stopped dancing. MeiLan had already turned and started back to her house.
“Maybe we can find him somehow,” MeiLan said, her back toward them. They saw her shoulders sink, and she sounded far from hopeful as she opened the door. “I’ll think about it and talk to you later.”
“But…” Peiyi said again as MeiLan closed the door behind her. And with a plaintive soft cry, “But Mr. Shan answered the question!”
Peiyi’s head drooped, and all signs of her previous joy faded away. Downcast, she began to stack the used dishes on the table. Rendi felt a pang of sadness for her, but her words sparked a sudden curiosity in him.
“Peiyi,” Rendi said, emptying the teapot onto the ground, “has Mr. Shan always been this way?”
“What way?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he said, struggling to explain. “Kind of crazy. Sometimes he seems half-asleep, but other times he laughs and… answers questions.”
“He is more cheerful now,” Peiyi said, stopping to consider it. “I never heard him laugh before. He used to always just read a big book and be annoyed at everyone. Jiming used to say he wished Mr. Shan would read a book on manners.”
“But he doesn’t read anymore,” Rendi said. “What happened?”
“I don’t know,” Peiyi said. “Mr. Shan used to travel too. Sometimes he’d disappear for months, and then one day he’d show up, reading and not noticing anyone around him again, like he never left. But this last time, Mr. Shan came back without the book.”
Rendi frowned. The tea he had poured had already dried up—only a thin line of dampness remained, like a dark thread on the stone ground. What was it that Mr. Shan had said to Madame Chang that first evening? Something about a book…
“And I think that’s about when he started getting so slow and mixed up,” Peiyi said slowly. “It’s almost like he’s lost sometimes.”
“He’s like that a lot of the time,” Rendi said.
Peiyi squinted at Rendi as if the sun was reflecting off him. “This is the first time you’ve ever asked me about anybody,” she said. “You never seemed to care about anyone else before.”
Rendi shrugged, and then, for no reason, he grinned at her. Peiyi’s eyes widened, and a small, crooked smile grew on her face in response. Suddenly, they both laughed, and Rendi realized that it was not just Master Chao and Widow Yan who had become friends.
CHAPTER
20
The night continued its moaning, and the day returned to its
usual blistering heat. Yes, Rendi thought as he helped Peiyi wash the floors (both of them splashing as much water at each other as they did the ground), it was too hot to leave the village now. If he had to travel by foot, it would be better to wait a week or so.
But right before dinner the next day, when Rendi returned from the Half-Moon Well, a group of fine horses and carriages stood in front of the inn. New guests!
Master Chao, almost twitching with eagerness, met Rendi at the door.
“Take care of the horses,” Master Chao said, almost pushing him. “And then hurry back. There are a lot of new guests, and we need your help serving.”
Rendi led the horses to the stable, filling all the stalls. He was forced to leave the carriages outside, as there was no room in the small stable, but he was able to inspect them. One carriage, its insides covered with plush cushions and shaded by silk curtains, was obviously to carry the honored guest. The guest must be very wealthy, perhaps even royalty, for the other carriages seemed to be solely for his luggage. There should be plenty of places for Rendi to hide. To leave the Village of Clear Sky, he would not have to walk after all. He could crawl into one of these carriages and ride away, just like he’d originally planned.
Somehow, the thought did not fill Rendi with the happiness he expected. He brushed the horses, frowning. Well, he could help Master Chao and Peiyi with the guests before he left—they needed his help to serve dinner, at the very least. And maybe he could find a way to say goodbye to them. And to Madame Chang and Mr. Shan, and even MeiLan and Widow Yan too. A strange, hard lump seemed to have formed in Rendi’s throat, and he had a hard time swallowing.
“Rendi!” a loud whisper called from the back door of the inn. It was Peiyi. “What are you doing? We need your help!”
Rendi put down the horse brush and left the stable. Peiyi stood at the inn’s doorway and dragged him inside.
“Hurry,” she urged. “Some important government official is here.”
Rendi glanced toward the new guests. The government official clearly was very important; companions who could only be his servants and guards flanked him on all sides. The only things Rendi could see of the important government official were his silk robes and his pale, thin hands, which looked as if they had never held anything heavier than a lute.
Impressed by the guest’s obvious high stature, Master Chao was filled with nervousness. He had filled a jug with wine, and the liquid made tiny waves as his hands trembled. It was Son Wine, the wine Master Chao had bought from the merchant so long ago, Rendi thought with a pang, but he said nothing. Master Chao jumped and almost spilled the wine when two new guests, dusty-looking traders, entered.
“More guests?” Peiyi said to Rendi. She sighed as the travelers insisted on the first-floor room in the center of the inn. “And superstitious ones too.”
“What do you mean?” Rendi asked.
“Ghosts are supposed to gather in the rooms at the ends of the inn.” Peiyi snorted. “Superstitious guests always want rooms in the middle.”
Rendi grinned, but their conversation was cut short as Master Chao rushed toward them. “Rendi,” Master Chao said, pushing the jug of wine toward him, “serve this.”
“Shouldn’t I look after their animals?” Rendi asked, motioning at the traders.
Master Chao looked around at the busy dining room. Madame Chang and Mr. Shan had also seated themselves at a table. He grimaced. “Serve the wine,” he said, “then take care of their animals. And hurry!”
Rendi spun around quickly, running into one of the superstitious traders walking to another table. The trader’s belt had a tiger’s paw hanging from it, and it swung toward Rendi as if trying to claw him. He stumbled to the official’s table, barely keeping the wine from tipping.
“Careful, boy,” one of the men said with a grin. “We’ll have to behead you if you spill on us.”
“Beheading?” another man bantered. “I’d think drawing and quartering would be more appropriate.”
“That’s true,” the man agreed with mocking thoughtfulness. “There should be torture and death for insulting the men of Duke Zhe!”
Rendi’s head jerked up, and with horror, he stared at the government official, Magistrate Tiger’s friend, Duke Zhe.
CHAPTER
21
Rendi quickly glanced around him. Peiyi and Master Chao were busy working in the kitchen, and Madame Chang and Mr. Shan seemed to be in their own conversation. Rendi took a deep breath and turned back to the table, where Duke Zhe met his still-panicked eyes with a benevolent smile.
“Come, now. Look, you’ve scared the poor boy,” Duke Zhe said to his companions. “You know these peasant folk will believe anything. Look at that village we passed yesterday with the dog bride.”
The men laughed, and Rendi could do nothing except continue to gape, confusion flickering over his face.
“You’ve never heard of it?” the duke said, mistaking Rendi’s expression. “Perhaps it is just a local custom. The villagers dress up a dog as a bride, in a red gown and the finest jewelry they can afford, and then stage a wedding.”
“They even put the dog in the covered sedan chair,” hooted one of the men, “and had the long procession—it was a big parade with the entire village! Just like a real wedding!”
“It’s all for those in the Starry River above,” Duke Zhe said. “They hope that it makes them laugh so hard that they cry and then rain will fall.”
“These peasants are trying all sorts of things to make it rain,” another man said. “The whole way here, I’ve been seeing all kinds of superstitious appeals. Putting stone carvings in the hot sun to make them suffer, burning smoke in front of statues hoping their eyes will water, throwing dirt on dragon figures…”
“What’s that one for?” Duke Zhe asked with an amusement that made one of the traders scowl.
“To make the dragon bring rain so he can clean himself,” the man hooted. “But there’s a drought happening everywhere but here. This is the first clean cup I’ve seen in a while.”
“It has been very dry here,” Master Chao said, who had by this time come out of the kitchen with Peiyi. “But our village wells still have water.”
“There must be something unusual about this place, then,” one of the traders said with eyes that looked at them with something like suspicion. He fingered the talisman on his belt. Instead of a tiger’s paw like his companion’s, his was a circle made from a coffin nail. “Everywhere else is running out of water and begging for rain.”
“Rendi,” Peiyi whispered to him. She had come over with chopsticks and plates to put on the duke’s table. “Do you remember when you filled in the well and my father said he thought everyone else’s well would go dry soon? They didn’t go dry. Why?”
Rendi tried to shrug.
“It stayed hot, and it didn’t rain. Do you think there is something here that keeps the water from disappearing?” Peiyi said. “Nothing changed, except Madame Chang coming. But that wouldn’t do anything, would it?”
Rendi could not even shake his head, and finally Peiyi gave him a puzzled look, now more confused about his uninterest than her questions. But Rendi felt frozen, barely able to move, much less talk. All he could do was continue to pour the wine, his knuckles turning white around the jug.
CHAPTER
22
“The other villages sound quite desperate,” Madame Chang said from the next table. Somehow her quiet voice could be heard clearly, even despite the guffaws of the duke’s men. “It sounds as if they need help.”
“Uh… er, yes,” the duke said uncomfortably. “Too bad I am too busy trying to help find missing people instead.”
“Missing people?” Master Chao had come over to push Rendi toward the table of the two traders and stopped as he heard the duke’s words. “My son is missing.”
“I’m searching for a magistrate’s son,” the duke said with a faint tone of admonishment.
Rendi gulped and clutched the cup he was
passing to one of the traders, the one with the tiger’s paw. The man looked at him carefully as he firmly took the cup away.
“Of course, of course,” Master Chao said, bowing with embarrassment.
“Two sons, one moon,” Mr. Shan said. “All missing.”
“How old are these missing boys?” the trader called out, ignoring Mr. Shan’s words about the moon.
“Oh, my son is not a boy,” Master Chao said, bowing again, but this time with a hint of wistful sadness. “Jiming is a grown man—or at least he thinks he is.”
“The magistrate’s son is a boy, however,” the duke said with dignity. “A young boy who has probably been kidnapped.”
“Kidnapped?” Rendi gasped before he could stop himself.
“Yes,” Duke Zhe said gravely. “His father is quite upset. I’m conducting this search as a favor for him. It seems it needed the attention of his superiors. The magistrate has already decreed that anyone found with the boy will be arrested and punished, but his men have found nothing. Poor fellow. His worry has made him into quite a different person—one day I came over unannounced to find him shouting and roaring like a tiger. I even overheard someone calling him Magistrate Tiger.”
“Magistrate Tiger?” Peiyi asked. Her eyes widened, and Rendi felt as if an iron shirt were being tightened around him as Peiyi continued. “But… he’s in the story…”
“Story?” Duke Zhe asked.
“There is a story about a tiger that this magistrate should probably hear,” Madame Chang said before Peiyi could say anything else. She looked at Rendi out of the corner of her eye. “Would you like to hear it?”
“Why not?” Duke Zhe said. “We must let the horses rest for the evening anyway.”
THE STORY OF THE WHITE TIGER