They left it at that.
For the rest of the week, Meilin played host to all manner of people, from ship’s captains to high up officials who wanted to learn what they could about Hsü’s experiences. The very fact that Hsü had returned on an Arab ship was the cause of much interest, but for the time being he evaded and deflected questions about that. Instead, he focused on telling anyone who wanted to listen that there was still a lucrative trade to be had on the Indian continent for those who wanted it and promised to write letters for people to the sultan of Gujarat. It was time to reopen the trade routes via the sea.
*****
Several days later, he had himself carried to the palace of the governor in a palanquin. It was taken across the intervening waters of the Pearl River by a boat hired for the purpose, then he was carried the several li along the main road that led to the gates of the palace itself. There was a polo game going on in the park that he would have liked to watch, but he had pressing business today. He reminded himself to bring Talon along some time to watch the game.
Leaving Fang to guard the palanquin at the gates, he chose to walk through the main entrance and present his papers to the clerk at the top of the stairs leading up to the interior of the palace. Ornate, red painted pillars on either side supported the curved tile roof and lent an imposing front to the center of governance of the province of Guangdong. He felt that he was very much the outsider; he had not visited the palace often, despite the urgings of the governor Murong himself.
He was ushered into the waiting room and sat on an expensive ebony chair, carved with dragon heads on the ends of the arms, and with claws for feet. The silk paintings on the tall walls were pleasant to observe. While he waited and stared about him, he thought he detected a Zhao Ji painting, on silk, of a flock of cranes. There was also one of a small group of goats gamboling on a knoll.
Little seemed to have changed since his last visit. There were cobwebs in among the carvings above his head that had not been there before, and some of the paintings had succumbed to the ravages of insects. He noted with some sadness that nothing ever lasted, and that included good servants to keep a labyrinthine palace clean.
After waiting for nearly an hour, someone he knew, a tall, thin Administrator by the name of Li Shou-cheh, stepped forward silently and bowed to him. “The Governor will see you now, Lord Meng,” he said with a thin smile of welcome.
Hsü got to this feet and adjusted his tunic. It was of rich, heavy silk brocade with intricate patterns on the front, not too ostentatious, just enough to make a statement. It would have been a grave loss of face to ignore the protocols of dressing in this world that judged one on manners and dress. Shou-cheh, who held his hands out of sight in his sleeves, eyed him critically and then said, “You do not look much the worse for your ordeal, Lord Meng.”
“I shall take that as a compliment. I was shipwrecked some months ago, so I have recovered since,” Hsü said. “It was good Joss that an Arab ship came by just in time.”
“Word is all over the town. Gossip is the food and drink of this city, and the word is that your Joss is good. We should have some wine and talk about it, soon,” Shou-cheh said, with a meaningful look at Hsü.
Hsü nodded his understanding and acceptance. Shou-cheh wanted to tell him something.
“Why don’t you come to my house and visit me?” Hsü suggested, knowing the answer even as he asked.
Shou-cheh gave an imperceptible shake of his head and smiled again, glancing about him from under his plucked brows. “Perhaps a place where we can talk in private?”
Hsü nodded again. “Very well, send a messenger when you are able, and I shall meet you wherever you like.”
Shou-cheh bowed and then led the way out of the antechamber.
Hsü had not expected to encounter the Governor lying in bed. They had walked, not to the audience room, but instead up a flight of stairs to a secluded room. Covering his surprise, Hsü bowed deeply to the occupant of the bed, who was supported by cushions in a half-sitting position.
The Governor lifted a hand in acknowledgment of his presence and spoke.
“I have missed you, Lord Meng. I am delighted to hear of the good Joss that has attended you, although it seems to me to have been mixed.”
“I am also delighted to see you, my Lord,” Hsü said. “I survived with my son, and we were fortunate to be picked up by an Arab ship; good Joss on the whole, I’d say.”
The governor dismissed the men hovering about his bed with a gesture. “Get out!” he grated. The men left hurriedly. Hsü assumed they were the doctors.
“They are like vultures, just waiting for me to go so that they can pick over my carcass,” the governor said in his reedy voice. Murong was clearly very ill, but there was a strength of will there yet. “I want to talk to you, Hsü,” he said, using the familiar. Hsü dipped his head politely.
“Come closer. The walls have ears, and I want what we say to one another to be private.”
Hsü stepped closer to the bed and leaned over the wrinkled old man lying in state. There was a smell of death surrounding the bed that was unpleasant.
“I am dying,” Murong murmured. “When I am gone there will be a fight for this position. It takes an honest man to do this work and... for the most part I have been honest and firm when it was needed. Do you not think so?” he asked, raising his eyes to those of Hsü, his faded old eyes pleading.
“Without doubt, my Lord. However, you are merely ill and will surely recover very soon,” Hsü assured him.
Murong gave a grimace. “Bah! Those doctors will see to it that I do not.” He beckoned Hsü to bend over, closer. “I want to have you appointed after I am gone,” Murong said, almost in a whisper.
Hsü was startled and instinctively glanced around to see if anyone had heard other than himself.
“I am not sure I am the right person for the role, my Lord,” he said quietly.
“Nonsense! Of course you are! Now that you are back from your adventures as an ambassador for the Emperor you are very qualified. Not only that, you are not corrupt, like those sycophants that plague me every waking hour.” The old man took hold of Hsü’s wrist and held onto it to make his point. His wrist and hand were blue-veined on an almost fleshless limb, but despite that his grip was firm.
“I do not have much time, and even less to debate this with you, Hsü. I will be sending a letter to the Emperor advocating you as the best person for this position. You have all the right credentials. You have Confucius at your fingertips. I have heard you spouting him often enough,” he insisted when Hsü made to declaim.
“You must reflect on this carefully and then decide how you are going to win this race,” Murong told him, as though the decision was made. “I can only recommend. After that, you know what needs to be done. Remember what Sun Tzu said? ‘After having made assessments, the one who first knows the measure of far and near wins’.”
Hsü nodded agreement. Both he and the Governor were students of Sun Tzu’s philosophy of the Art of War.
“Be very careful, Hsü. The office is a prize that many would give much to have. You will be in danger, and perhaps even your family. That is not my wish but ... this province needs a good leader.”
The Governor released his grip and settled into the cushions with a sigh of exhaustion. Hsü bowed low and departed. He waved the doctors over urgently as he went out of the room. He hoped that Shou-cheh might be there, but there were only some agitated-looking servants hovering about in the corridor. As he was on his way down the hallway, he felt that he was being observed. He glanced to his right and noticed one of the senior Administrators standing between two pillars watching him.
Hsü paused and bowed politely. He was familiar with the man, who bowed back and said, “Lord Meng. I am delighted to meet you again after so long. I am Prefect Wu po-ku.”
“I am delighted to meet you again, Prefect.” Hsü knew perfectly well who the man was. He had a reputation for pedantry and was a very clever administrator.
Perhaps too clever, because somehow he had become very rich for a mere administrator. However, Hsü was not going to give any indication of his reservations now.
“How did you find the Governor?” Wu asked politely enough.
“Sadly, I did not find him well. It must be of great concern to yourself and the other members of his staff,” Hsü said.
“We must continue to hope for a swift recovery.” Wu bowed with a smile that displayed his small, even teeth between thin lips. The discussion was over.
Hsü left the palace to go home.
*****
Several days later, Hua Rong was seated at an expensive eating house some way from his office along the main street that led to the Examination house. With the Chief of Police was a man who was in his own right a very rich and influential man, albeit on the wrong side of the law most of the time. His distinguishing features were his fleshy nose and his very wide mouth, which gave him some resemblance to a toad. No one in his right mind would ever say as much to his face, and even when not in his presence people were wary of making fun of this man. His light brown eyes indicated that he was of mixed blood. Rong strongly suspected that he might even possess some Mongol blood, God forbid!
None of this bothered Rong, however; his purpose for staying close to Lu Buwei was a mutual sense of greed.
“You now know, as does most of Guangzhou, the circumstances of Hsü’s arrival and what befell him in the Indian ocean, I dare say?” Rong asked Buwei after they had started the meal.
“Of course. My spies tell me everything,” Buwei said through a mouthful of shrimp. His chopsticks were never still when he was eating, and even Rong had to look away when it became too much to watch the full to bulging mouth leaking juices while he ate.
“Did your own spies tell you that despite the loss of his ship he somehow managed to bring back a box full of treasure?” Buwei mumbled though his full mouth.
Rong was startled. “How is that?” he demanded.
“Ah, so you don’t know all there is! Hah!” Buwei shook his head and swallowed. He took a swig of hot rice wine and burped.
“A treasure, you say?” Rong asked stupidly while he took a more deliberate sip of the tsjuw, a fermented drink made from millet, which he preferred. It didn't cloud his mind quite so quickly.
“Yes indeed. Quite a little fortune, I hear. I'd love to get my hands on it before he dispenses it to such people as the Governor, and perhaps even the Emperor's minions.”
“I wouldn’t worry about the Governor at this moment,” Rong said.
“Whyzat?” Buwei was in his cups already.
“His doctor told me it is unlikely he will last out the year.”
“Ah well, that is very interesting. I knew he was ill of course, but not, as you say, terminally?” Buwei mumbled as he stuffed more food into his mouth. “You should try those small pastries over there. They are delicious!”
Rong was more interested in discussing the likelihood of a successor to the Governor than stuffing his face or bragging about whose spies were more adept at reporting secrets. Watching Buwei demolish a table loaded with food dampened his appetite.
“You and I could profit from the right man being in the governor’s office when the time comes,” he said in a low tone, with a glance around the busy eating room. There were faces in this room that he knew well, but he wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone other than Buwei. Not today.
Buwei nodded, and his jowls wobbled. He wasn't as drunk as he seemed. “Who do you have in mind for the job?” he asked.
“Well, apart from you or I,” Rong smiled. There wasn’t a hope in hell that Buwei could get the post. He hadn’t qualified as an administrator and lacked a degree; that was one of the prerequisites of the job. But he, Rong, was qualified.
“I was thinking of Wu po-ku,” he said, then continued rapidly before Buwei could respond. “He took his exams around the same time as I did. He is a Prefect, which means he has experience in the process of running a complex government; and furthermore, he is, um, malleable.”
Buwei nodded and started in on the sweet Aga Aga jellies and rice biscuits now being laid out in front of them.
“You don’t think General Hayan Zhuo would be the right person?”
Rong recoiled. “Heavens, no! He is far too principled and has sworn to clean up this city if he ever gets into a position to do so. I couldn’t bear to have to Ke Tou to that sanctimonious old fart.”
Buwei laughed, a deep belly laugh. “Ha Ha! I agree, just testing you. We can’t have that now, can we? Who else is there to worry about then, if we plump for Wu?” he asked, wiping his large, fleshy lips with a napkin.
Rong leaned across the table and murmured, “There is Yen Wei, also a Prefect.” He named several other potential candidates, then said, “And there is a rumor that Lord Meng might be in the running. He visited the Governor the other day. I couldn’t get a man close enough, and that closed-mouth crisp of a man Li Shou-cheh wouldn’t provide any information, using the excuse of confidentiality.”
“That can make for a short life, if he behaves like that too often,” Buwei stated. His eyes became hard pebbles in the folds of his face. Rong might be the Chief of Police, but Buwei was reputed to be the leader of a Tong. He controlled much of the crime in the city, and all the opium dens.
Rong wasn’t focussing. What on earth was all this about a treasure in Hsü’s house? Now that bore investigating.
“Hello, Rong? Are you paying attention? I just said that I can probably take care of Yen Wei, but if the rumor is true and Lord Meng is a contestant, things could be difficult. He has a reputation for honesty, but he is also tough and quite well protected. Not something you find often in the merchant community. Anyway, doesn’t the appointment have to be approved in the court of the Emperor? It will need his chop.”
“Anyone who wants the job will have to have the Emperor’s seal of approval, yes,” Rong said. “We will have to place some high-level bribes in the palace, and we will have to do it soon.”
“We must begin work to ensure that neither Yen nor Meng get any ideas about running for the job,” Buwei stated. “It would be amusing to use some of the treasure he brought back with him to bribe people in the palace of the Emperor,” he observed.
It was as though he had read Rong’s very thoughts.
*****
From the first day of their arrival at his home, Lord Meng Hsü had treated Talon and his family as honored guests. To the foreign visitors, the cluster of ornate, storied pagodas and other buildings, with the four courtyards and and two fountains, resembled a palace.
It was a busy week before Lord Meng could spend some time with them, and for this he laid on a modest feast for his entire family and this guests. The two small boys were included, but they soon began to fidget, and Hsü gave them permission to go into the gardens under the supervision of Lun’s nurse.
His wife Meilin maintained an aloof coldness and disdained to converse with any of them, making her disapproval of the visitors very plain. Her poor manners annoyed Hsü and his mother, who made a valiant attempt to put their guests at ease. However, it was not very long before the women of Hsü’s family took their leave from the large, lacquered table. Lihua was present in the guise of a translator at Hsü’s request, to the fury of his wife, whom he chose to ignore.
The table, with its embroidered cloth cover, was strewn with bowls of rice, saucers of shrimp in chili sauce, and small bowls of fried pork. Hsü refrained from telling them the meat’s origin, pointing out instead the fried duck delicacies and the delicious morsels of fish, dumplings in soup, and vegetables, each one worth sampling. The main course had been stir-fried beef cubes surrounded by pickled kale and bean sprouts. Its flavor was rich and varied, with a hint of a sour taste. Rav’an had declared it delicious and asked its name.
“Kum Ngan Yuk Ngau Sze,” Lihua had told them with a straight face and then smiled, putting her hand delicately in front of her mouth as she did so. She went on to ex
plain how it was made. None of them could remember its name within minutes of being told.
Talon was eager to try out his newfound skills with the chopsticks and fumbled his way through the meal, more often than not dropping slippery pieces of meat or vegetables onto the table cloth, to his evident chagrin. The others had not practiced, so it was even worse for them. The wine had its intended effect, however, and soon the mortified looks became giggles and laughs, accompanied by titters from Lihua as she instructed them. Hsü and his son watched with amused expressions.
Hsü sat back and enjoyed the scene, but his reason for the meal was to provide a forum for a meeting to discuss the immediate future. When the servants had finally cleared the table and left the fruit: lychee, bananas, cherries, and peaches, with some more warmed wine, he opened the discussion. He spoke slowly and in Arabic, as their Chinese was still virtually nonexistent.
“Talon, now that you are here and my honored guests, my man Jiaya will be working very with you to assist with the complex customs procedures. In normal circumstances, if you had arrived alone without me aboard, you would have been subjected to the usual difficulties imposed upon all foreign traders.”
“What do you mean, ‘the usual difficulties, Hsü?” Talon asked, and a frown appeared.
“It is, shall we say, the law, as imposed by the local guilds, or Hongs, that your cargo would be impounded by customs and held until other ships had arrived, at which time theirs would also be bonded and held. At a certain time, dictated by the customs, when everyone had arrived who was going to be here this year of trading, they would release all the cargo at once, and you would have to sell what you could in a market where the prices had fallen dramatically because of an glut of the same goods.” He raised his hand to forestall Reza, who was about to protest. Talon had a sinking feeling in his gut.
“There is a way around this problem,” he stated.
What are you proposing, Hsü?” Talon asked. His expression was grim. Rav’an and Jannat wore dismayed expressions. Had they come all this way out here to be robbed at the last moment?
The Dragon's Breath Page 29