The Sword Dancer

by Jeanne Lin

For Han, the towering gate held less intimidation and more of a sort of worn familiarity. When his father held office, the family residence had been located at the back of such a structure. Father would rise early each morning to go to the judicial hall and bureaus located at the front section and he would remain there until long after sundown. When his father was stripped of his title, the family had been evicted from the yamen.

  The entrance courtyard was wide and the buildings set far apart to impress visitors with a sense of expansiveness and grandeur. Han found his way to the judicial hall and requested an audience with the county magistrate, citing that he was investigating a case.

  ‘Name?’ the senior clerk asked, with his brush poised over his ledger.

  ‘Zheng Hao Han,’ he stated.

  ‘You’re a thief-catcher?’ he asked disdainfully.

  Han nodded and debated whether he should claim his father’s status as a magistrate in Nanping prefecture. Father would have certainly considered such an act unethical as well as a painful reminder of his dismissal.

  ‘And what is this about?’ the clerk asked.

  ‘A private matter of great importance.’ He certainly couldn’t air an accusation of corruption out in public.

  ‘Come back this afternoon.’

  Bureaucrats tended to distrust all men of the sword, even the appointed constables who worked for the magistrate’s office.

  Han left for the streets, deciding to gather more information on the steward’s murder while he waited. Some accounts indicated that there had been one killer responsible, others recalled two or three or as many as ten bandits involved. With so many witnesses involved and such an outrageous crime, it was impossible to get a straight story.

  It had the mark of a planned assassination, Han concluded. A swift clean stroke such as this took a long time planning and the blink of an eye to execute. There was no chase through the streets. The killer or killers inexplicably disappeared.

  As he walked along the lane, a woman crossing the street caught his attention. There was nothing particularly eye-catching about the way she was dressed. She wore a cotton robe that had been dyed yellow and her hair was tied back to fall over one shoulder. Her face was shielded by a parasol and he spied the smooth curve of one cheek beneath its shadow.

  She leapt over a puddle of water left by the rain and Han found himself wishing Li Feng had accompanied him that morning. Not that it was practical, but she had her own ways of seeking out information that he had to admire.

  The woman disappeared around the corner before Han recognised what had distracted him. What sort of woman would risk turning an ankle by jumping over muddy water in the streets? Not to mention how ill mannered it appeared.

  Before he could start after her, an armed patrol shouted for all the pedestrians to clear the street. Han stepped aside and stepped back against the wall between two shops. He bowed his head with the rest of the crowd as an official litter appeared, hefted on the shoulders of four bearers. An entourage of armed guards flanked either side of the transport.

  Han glanced up as the litter passed and had the misfortune of catching the eye of one of the guards.

  ‘Weapons are not allowed on public streets,’ the man barked. ‘By official edict.’

  Han raised his hands, palms faced outward, to show he meant no trouble. By then, the entire procession had stopped before him. Some of the younger guards had their hands at their swords, ready to draw.

  A hand reached out from inside the litter to pull the curtain back. Half a face appeared. ‘What’s your name, my man?’

  ‘Zheng Hao Han.’

  ‘Ah!’ The curtain swung aside to reveal a cheerful smile which was quite out of place with the grim countenance of his guards. ‘The famous thief-catcher!’

  The official ordered the bearers to lower the litter so he could step out on to the street. His belly sagged over his belt as he approached Han. His eyes and mouth looked engulfed by his rounded cheeks. His chin was small in contrast and adorned with a trim beard. He had the look of a well-fed, well-kept bureaucrat in every way. His state robe was made of expensive silk, but the style showed some restraint, being free of excessive embellishment.

  ‘I’m known as Tan Li Kuo,’ he introduced.

  Han bowed. ‘Magistrate Tan.’

  He recognised the magistrate’s rank from his headdress and the deep green of his robe.

  ‘I’m glad that we had an opportunity to meet like this. I was going to get a drink down the street. Come sit with me.’

  The guards scrambled to confiscate Han’s sword, but the magistrate waved them away. He similarly refused to get back into the litter for the short trip to the drinking house.

  ‘Let us show them we’re not afraid,’ he declared to the street in general.

  Han assumed ‘they’ meant the bandits who had committed murder in stark daylight. He followed beside Magistrate Tan, matching the official’s shorter gait respectfully.

  ‘Some business there with Two Dragon Lo, eh? Good work there. Very good work.’

  Tan was the sort that spoke with his hands. Even while walking, he would pause to turn and make his gestures visible.

  ‘It was my duty,’ Han replied.

  ‘You’re too humble, Zheng Hao Han.’ The magistrate directed two fingers at him. ‘And you speak very well for a man of the sword.’

  As much as Han was trying to make his speech formal, the magistrate was working to speak informally. As if they were old friends. Han suspected their meeting might not have been accidental and that Magistrate Tan didn’t typically break from his duties to drink in the middle of the day.

  At the tavern, they were greeted by a hostess and immediately seated in a private salon. Tan poured the wine himself, holding the long sleeve of his robe back as he filled two cups.

  ‘As you’ve likely heard, the bandit situation here has got out of hand,’ the magistrate said, adopting the direct approach. Courtesy dictated they at least drink and speak of other matters for a few cups before coming around to the real purpose of the discussion.

  ‘The murder of the prefect’s steward?’ Han ventured.

  ‘They’ve become bold and incorrigible!’

  As the son of a magistrate, Han had always assumed all men of that position had the same graveness as his father. The same steely-eyed look. A tight and disapproving thinness about the mouth. For the most part, his assumptions hadn’t been too far off the mark. Magistrates tended to maintain a distance which allowed them to decide the fates of men. Tan was nothing like that. The magistrate appeared to be about ten or fifteen years Han’s senior. Quite young for such a position. His soft face had a youthful, innocent look. His expression was similarly wide-eyed and he was surprisingly quick to speak and act, almost to the point of impulsiveness.

  ‘This bad element must be removed before it corrupts our city,’ Tan continued. ‘Which is why I am so happy to see the famous Thief-catcher Han.’

  He lifted his cup and drank emphatically. Han followed his example and downed his drink. As soon as he set the cup down, the magistrate refilled it. It was strange to see a high-ranking official perform such a menial task and it made Han increasingly uncomfortable.

  ‘I heard that another thief-catcher tried to hunt down the killers,’ Han said.

  ‘He was found trussed up in front of the yamen one morning, badly beaten. A strip of paper had been attached to him that read: “To all thief-catchers: Find us soon, or we will kill you all.” Shameless of them, issuing a public threat!’

  ‘The bandits left the thief-catcher alive?’ Han asked.

  Magistrate Tan nodded. ‘To send a warning. The constables have been reluctant to go after them since.’

  A dead man would have been warning enough. A very visible killing followed by the sparing of a thief-catcher? It made little sense.

  ‘I hear that the man who was killed was very important,’ Han said.

  ‘Cai Yun had been with the prefect for many years. He was Prefect Guan’s un
official advisor in charge of his household affairs.’

  If his steward was involved in salt smuggling, then the prefect was likely involved as well, which put Han in a very difficult position if he were to make a formal accusation. The ledger book was still in his possession as well as all the information he had gathered, but it wasn’t as easy as dragging a thief into custody. Such a conspiracy was hard to prove and there were consequences for bringing false accusations, especially against someone as high-ranking as Prefect Guan. A false accusation here could be punishable by death.

  ‘I’ve sent a petition to the local garrison that has yet to be answered,’ Tan continued with impatience. ‘And the city guards are under the control of Prefect Guan who has walled himself up in his estate—not to criticise my betters,’ he added hastily.

  The district was administered judicially by the magistrate’s yamen. The magistrate in turn reported directly to the prefect who oversaw the administration of the entire prefecture.

  ‘The magistrate will need to organise his own force then,’ Han advised. ‘Surely enough volunteers can be gathered to keep the city safe.’

  ‘Very wise counsel.’ The magistrate looked pleased. ‘As Master Sun says, an army of thousands is easy to attain. But to find a man to lead them…’

  The wine that was pleasantly warming him suddenly turned sour in his stomach. The overeager, slightly befuddled look disappeared from Tan’s face to be replaced with a look of shrewdness. The magistrate wasn’t seeking the services of a thief-catcher. He had lured and prodded and coaxed Han into a corner.

  Han held up his hands. ‘Magistrate Tan, you flatter me, but you have the wrong man. I’m not up to this task.’

  ‘But your valiant capture of that notorious bandit Lo—’

  Again with Lo. That one incident was turning out to be a curse.

  ‘My head constable is getting late in his years. Most of his men lack extensive training in weapons or fighting,’ Magistrate Tan prodded. ‘Surely an upstanding, heroic individual such as yourself wouldn’t turn his back on such a dire situation.’

  ‘Honourable sir, there are others who are undoubtedly more qualified.’

  ‘Now don’t be so humble,’ Tan insisted. He sipped his wine to allow some time to pass. ‘I doubt there is anyone more suited to this job. What was it I heard? Something about your father once holding an important office?’

  His expression was mild. His gaze, however, was pinpoint sharp in contrast. Here was the shrewdness Han had expected. Tan Li Kuo wore the magistrate’s robe in a different way from his father, but he was no less formidable.

  ‘If the magistrate will excuse my ignorance,’ Han began. ‘I often hear rumors of gangs of bandits terrorising the countryside, but such outlaws prefer to attach themselves to a wide area and bleed it slowly, stealing from merchants when they were far from the protection of the city garrisons. In this humble thief-catcher’s opinion, bandits don’t murder prominent civilians for no apparent reason.’

  ‘What are you suggesting? You can come out with it, we’re friends here!’

  Actually, they were far from friends. Han knew nothing about the magistrate’s loyalties or if he was trustworthy, but Tan had taken the risk of criticising the prefect earlier. It was an obvious opening and perhaps Magistrate Tan was the ally he needed.

  In the end, his upbringing wouldn’t allow him to withhold information from a county magistrate. Despite the taint of corruption in Minzhou, Han still believed that a man of the law like Magistrate Tan would rise above it.

  ‘I have some information that might provide some insight on the situation.’

  He briefly described the activities at the salt well and the adjoining village. ‘Cai Yun could have been killed by smugglers or associates he’d crossed. Or he could have been killed to be silenced,’ Han suggested.

  Tan listened carefully. ‘Do you have any evidence of Cai Yun’s involvement?’

  ‘I can’t be certain, but I do have records detailing the salt production at the well.’

  ‘I’ll need to see them.’

  ‘Of course, sir.’

  The magistrate seemed quite satisfied. ‘You’re a good man, Zheng Hao Han. An honest man. Our office can certainly use your experience hunting down these killers in the meantime.’

  ‘I will do what I can.’ How could he refuse? He had started something and intended to see it to its end, with the smuggling ring as well as Li Feng.

  ‘There is one more thing,’ he said as Tan was finishing his wine. ‘If I may be allowed to look at the local case records.’

  The magistrate raised his eyebrows. ‘A thief-catcher who likes searching through records, eh? Is this another scandal I need to know about?’

  ‘No, sir.’ Han bowed humbly. ‘Just a personal matter.’

  ‘He asks for so little. The mark of a true hero.’ Tan gave a small wave of his hand. ‘Consider it done.’

  The magistrate drained his cup, concluding business neatly over the space of one pot of warmed wine.

  Chapter Eleven

  Han had warned her that morning to stay away from Prefect Guan. He was an appointed official and a powerful man. Han had also pointed out that with the recent murder in the streets, the guards would be patrolling vigilantly. Li Feng had nodded at him, telling him that she understood, but she prepared to leave as soon as he was gone.

  Li Feng did understand the risks, but she also sensed her answers were finally within reach. Shifu had tried all her life to teach her patience, preaching action through non-action, but she had failed to absorb that lesson. She would go mad waiting inside that tiny shrine for Han to return.

  The rain had given her a reprieve that morning and a hint of sun appeared from behind the clouds. She replaced the grey Taoist garb with a modest cotton robe from her pack and took a parasol with her. Today she was a young woman on a morning stroll. She wanted to take a look at the prefect’s residence, that was all.

  As she walked the muddied streets, Li Feng took note of the placement of buildings and walls, paying attention to not just what was visible from down low, but on high as well. In her mind, she marked out the lanes and avenues. It was a habit she’d formed upon first returning to Fujian province. The sprawling cities were less intimidating to her once she’d mapped them in her mind’s eye.

  At the river, she located a dock and waited for the ferry to take her along the water. Her first glimpse of the prefect’s residence was from the river. All there was to see was the surrounding wall, which enclosed a spacious mansion. An array of winged rooftops rose just above the brick barrier.

  Later Li Feng approached the house on foot, with her head ducked beneath her parasol to peek at it like a shy admirer. She had been holding on to so little for so long: a piece of jade and her fragmented memories. Now the Guan mansion loomed before her, so large and real that she wanted to believe she was close. She wanted to put her hand against the grey brick to mark the moment, but there were guards in front. Another squad patrolled the perimeter.

  She considered calling at the front gate and presenting the jade. Mother must have given her the pendant for a reason. Was Prefect Guan somehow related to them? Had Mother been running from this place or running to it?

  In the end, Li Feng passed by the gate without stopping. The place had a discordant feel to her, a bad energy. It was barricaded like a fortress and the guards were less than welcoming. Instead she shifted her attention from the front gate to the wall. It rose five or six chi over her head and the brickwork provided grooves and a roughened texture that would make it easy to find footing.

  Li Feng could easily evade the patrols. She could scale the wall with a running leap and be over in one breath.

  But what would she do once she was inside? Maybe she would find old memories there, long discarded and waiting to be recovered. Or maybe there was nothing to see beyond the empty shell of a house.

  Whatever she was going to do, it had to wait until dark. She left the mansion before the guards recogn
ised that she had been skulking about.

  On a whim, she made a few enquiries and followed the directions to a neighbourhood where the streets were narrow and the houses worn and shabby in appearance. A school was located at one corner. There was no door on the front gate and Li Feng was able to peek into the courtyard to see a group of ten young girls practising dance drills. The youngest of them appeared not much older than four. They lifted their right arms overhead in unison, keeping a graceful rounded curve, fingers shaped in lotus position. Next they raised the left arm to create a mirror image, then both arms gradually down, hands fluttering like falling leaves.

  Li Feng watched them, transfixed by the unity of movement, until the rap of a bamboo switch against the gate snapped her back to attention. A middle-aged woman stood before her. She wore her hair in a severely coiled bun and wore an even more severe expression on her face.

  ‘Why are you here?’ the headmistress demanded.

  ‘I was trying to look for a dance troupe,’ Li Feng began.

  ‘This is a school. We only train children.’

  There were many such schools for orphaned and abandoned children throughout the province. Li Feng might have gone to such a place if shifu hadn’t taken her in. The girls glanced over at the disturbance, but immediately returned their attention to their drills.

  ‘I apologise for the intrusion, madam.’ She started to ask whether the school worked with a performance group that toured the province, but the woman cut her off.

  ‘You go on to the courtesan district,’ she suggested sharply. ‘There’s no use for you here.’

  The whole endeavour was a waste of time. Li Feng left the school, her initial feeling of anticipation draining out of her. She had thought she might find a familiar face, but fifteen years was too long. The troupe her family had travelled with would be scattered to the four corners of the Earth by now.

  As she returned to the main avenue, she sensed movement off to the side. She whipped around to stare at an empty

  alleyway, but there had been someone there just a moment ago, she was certain of it. She darted between the two buildings, eyes searching the shadows, her sleeve sword close in case she needed it.