“Just add it to a cup of tea one hour before bed,” Dr. Xue instructed the man. “And take these peppers. You need more spicy food! Get the blood flowing. Have a hot dinner and then prepare for a hot night.” They laughed again and the man gave Dr. Xue a few coins before slipping out of the shop.
“Will it work?” Inspector Gong asked as Dr. Xue cleaned off the counter.
“I’ll give you some for your wedding night with Lady Yun and then you can tell me,” Dr. Xue said tartly.
“How do you know about that?” Inspector Gong asked. “It’s not official yet.”
“You know your mother is a patient of mine,” Dr. Xue said. “She was here looking for something she could slip into your tea to make you come to your senses.”
“What did you give her?” Inspector Gong asked.
“Just some ground up lizard tails,” he said, and Inspector Gong made a face. “Don’t worry about it. Will just make your eyelids hairy.”
“What?” Inspector Gong asked, grabbing a mirror off a nearby table and checking his face but not seeing any extra hairs. “Why would you do that?”
“Because I happen to be in agreement with her,” Dr. Xue said. “This girl is not the one for you.”
“I can never please anyone,” Inspector Gong said with an annoyed sigh. “Both of you wanted me to get married, but the one I want is not good enough. She’s a Manchu lady! I should be so lucky.”
“But she’s not the one that will be good for you,” Dr. Xue said. “She’s not the one that you stopped drinking and whoring for. She’s not the one who opened your mind to the very idea of marriage. She’s not the one who made you a better man. It’s the other one.”
“But I can’t marry Lady Li,” Inspector Gong said. “Besides, what does it matter? Who marries for love? I just need a woman who will give me sons, right?”
“For some men, that is enough,” Dr. Xue said. “It was good enough for me. Be quiet, cook dinner, be big with child. What more would I need in a wife? But for you, you are not like me. You are a…What do they say? A romantic.”
Inspector Gong shook his head. “I didn’t come here to be insulted. And there’s no point in arguing about this. It’s out of my hands. I can’t marry the woman I want, so any other woman will just have to do.”
“When this all goes badly, you come back to me, you understand,” Dr. Xue said. “You are like a son to me. I’ll always help you.”
“That’s actually why I’m here,” Inspector Gong said. “There is a problem with Swan. But don’t you dare tell my mother. She can never know about this.”
Dr. Xue raised an eyebrow. “Is she already with child?” he asked.
“No,” Inspector Gong said. “She’s addicted to opium.”
He had expected Dr. Xue to rail at him, yell and throw things, tell him how stupid he was. But it was so quiet in that shop, he thought the whole neighborhood had frozen. Finally, Dr. Xue puckered his mouth tightly and tapped his long nails on the countertop.
“How much does she take?” he asked. “It is common for ladies, especially high-born ones, to imbibe once in a while, or to help them sleep. Is it more serious than that?”
“It is very serious,” Inspector Gong said. “She sneaks out to go to opium houses. She had a large amount hidden in her room. She spends so much time in the clouds, she doesn’t remember how she got there. And when she wakes up, she is sick.”
Dr. Xue put his hand to his mouth, as though he was about to be sick over this knowledge. “You know this, yet you will marry her anyway?” he asked. Inspector Gong didn’t reply. He had already said all he needed to on the matter. “I always took you for a fool, Anguo. I never thought you were stupid.”
“Can you help her or not?” Inspector Gong asked.
Dr. Xue sighed and began rummaging around among the glass bottles under the counter. “Of course, I can help her,” he mumbled. “I will have to take a very complicated three-prong approach. I have to balance her qi, help her manage her pain, and then flush the toxins from her body.” He put several glass jars into a basket. “Hmm…snake venom, the good stuff…” He then went over to several baskets of herbs and put a few different items into paper sachets. “Ginseng…camellia…”
“Then what is the problem?” Inspector Gong asked. “If you can cure her, then everything will be fine, right?”
“I never said I could cure her,” Dr. Xue huffed. “I can only treat her. I can help her survive today. I can heal her body from the damage the drug has already done. But the problem is her mind. She will always want to go back to the dreams. She will always find her way back there. You can never leave her alone. You can never trust her.” He went back to collecting the items he needed such as milkwort leaves and pumpkin seeds.
“Maybe she is stronger than that,” Inspector Gong said. “I’ll give her a reason to fight.”
“When your heart and mind are on another woman,” Dr. Xue said, “how can you ever give Swan what she needs?”
“I promise to do my best by her,” Inspector Gong said. “That’s all I can do.”
Dr. Xue sighed and finished putting items into the basket. “These treatments are expensive,” he said. “And it will take a lot of my time.”
“Don’t worry about the cost,” Inspector Gong said. “Whatever it takes. Just be discreet. We can’t risk news about Swan’s addiction getting back to my mother, or even circulating among the Manchu. It could hurt Lady Li’s reputation as well.”
“Fine, fine,” Dr. Xue said. “I’ll be sure to wear a hat. Anything else?”
“Have you had time to examine the body of the opera singer? Fanhua?” Inspector Gong asked.
“Yes, yes,” Dr. Xue said. “Death was caused by a sword to the gut. Pierced the liver. Very painful but fast death.”
“That explains why the blood darkened so quickly,” Inspector Gong said. “How much force would it take to run someone through that way? She claims the murder was an accident.”
“If the sword was very sharp, it could have happened very quickly,” Dr. Xue said. “He was a thin boy. The bulk was in the costume, but it’s just fabric and stuffing. Very easy to pierce. Still, very difficult to accidentally kill someone when you intentionally run them through with a sword.”
“That is my viewpoint,” Inspector Gong said. “But Prince Kung and Lady Li think the killer is not responsible for her actions. The singer said the prop sword was replaced with a real one, so she didn’t realize until it was too late that she actually had injured him.”
Dr. Xue nodded. “Very difficult case. But until you find out who switched the sword, I do not think you will find an answer.”
“Yes, which is why I need to go. I have some leads to follow,” the inspector said, heading for the door. “Let me know how things go with Swan.”
The doctor only grunted as he locked the door to the shop behind him.
* * *
After some asking around, Inspector Gong easily found where Hungjian was currently performing. The Xishun troupe had rented the Green Willow Theater not far from the White Lotus Theater where Fanhua had been killed.
As he approached the theater, even though it was the middle of the day, he could hear loud music playing inside. At the door, there was a large man standing guard, and several women were anxiously trying to get inside. Inspector Gong elbowed his way through the crowd.
“No one is admitted during rehearsals,” the guard growled, causing the girls to moan sadly.
“I’m here on the prince’s business,” Inspector Gong said, not needing to even give the name of the prince before being admitted. Inspector Gong’s reputation preceded him.
Inspector Gong had never seen Szechuan opera before, so he was surprised by how different it was from Peking opera.
There was only one performer on stage, and he wasn’t singing. There was a large orchestra off to one side, playing loud, upbeat music. The performer wore an ornate costume of black with gold and red embroidery. He wore a long black cape with a red
silk lining and held a large red fan in one hand. He had a large black hat with shimmering baubles on it. His face looked as though it was painted red, black, and white.
With a flick of his wrist, the performer flashed the fan across his face, and his face was now green and white! Painted in a completely different pattern.
“What the…” Inspector Gong started to ask, but before he could form a full question, the performer turned his head to the left. Then back to the right. Now his face was red! In a split second, the man was able to completely change his face.
So, this was face changing, Inspector Gong realized with a laugh and clap of his hands. As the man moved commandingly around the stage, waving his fan or swinging his cape, he changed his face again and again before finally ending the act by revealing his real face. It was like a form a magic. Inspector Gong watched closely, trying to see how the man was able to change his face, but his movements were so quick, so seamless, he couldn’t even begin to guess how it was done.
The man then took a bow and went to speak with the musicians on the side of the stage.
Inspector Gong clapped his hands as he approached the stage. “That was well done,” he said as Hungjian looked at him. “I’ve never seen the like.”
“The guard wasn’t supposed to let anyone in,” Hungjian said, hopping down off the stage and approaching the inspector. “I’m rehearsing a new act. No one was supposed to see it.”
“Don’t worry,” Inspector Gong said. “I have no idea what I even just saw. I wouldn’t begin to know how to explain it to someone.”
“And you are?” the man asked, crossing his arms.
“Inspector Gong,” he said.
Hungjian nodded slowly. “I’ve heard of you,” he said. “But as we have had no crimes committed among our troupe, I assume you have come to talk about an acquaintance of mine. Tell me, what fool has run out and gotten himself killed?”
Inspector Gong hesitated. He hadn’t planned on announcing the murder to anyone just yet. But this man was a competitor for attention—from women and opera patrons—with Fanhua. If anyone were the main suspect in Fanhua’s murder, it would be Hungjian. His response to the news of Fanhua’s death could tell the inspector everything he needed to know about him.
“Fanhua,” was all Inspector Gong said.
Confusion crossed Hungjian’s face. “What?” he asked, and then smiled, letting out a strangled laugh, as though Inspector Gong was playing a cruel joke. But then the truth of the matter dawned on him and the smile fled his face. “No,” he gasped. He put his hand to his mouth as though he was going to be sick. He stumbled a bit. Then he turned his face away, and when he looked back, all emotion was gone. “That is unfortunate news,” he said as though the inspector had only told him that it might rain.
Then the inspector realized that Hungjian was not merely an actor, but one skilled at changing his face and personality from one second to another. He wondered, which face was the real one? The one that had nearly gone to pieces a moment before, or the stoic and impassive one he was looking at now? He had no way of knowing. He began to doubt he’d be able to believe anything Hungjian had to say.
“How did it happen?” Hungjian asked.
Inspector Gong glanced around and noticed that the other troupe members were watching them, interested in whatever they were discussing.
“Perhaps we can talk somewhere more private?” the inspector asked.
“Of course,” Hungjian said, and he led the inspector backstage to his dressing room, which, like the others the inspector had seen, was crowded with costumes and props.
“So, how do you do it?” the inspector asked, wanting to distract Hungjian and get him comfortable talking. “The face changing. It’s an impressive trick.”
Hungjian chuckled as he took off his cape and hung it on a rack. “Do you think you are the first person to ask me that? It’s a family secret, passed down through generations.”
Inspector Gong nodded. Of course, Hungjian wasn’t going to reveal his tricks. “I’m finding there are many secrets to the opera world,” he said. “Perhaps you will reveal to me your rivalry with Fanhua.”
The inspector couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw a hint of sadness cross Hungjian’s face again before he once again masked his feelings.
“There was no rivalry, not really,” he said. “It was just for show. It made the admirers more enthralled if they thought there was some sort of competition going on between us. It made both of us more popular. But as I am sure you have seen, our styles are completely different. There could never be a real rivalry.”
“It might not have been real to you,” the inspector said. “But it was very real to the women who loved him. Could one of your admirers have killed him to help you?”
“What?” Hungjian asked. “That’s crazy.”
“From what I have heard, Fanhua made the girls crazy,” the inspector said. “Who knows what a woman might do if she thought Fanhua loved her.”
“If anything, those girls would have killed Wangshu,” Hungjian said. “She made them crazy.”
“In what way?” the inspector asked.
“Those women are obsessed with Fanhua because he played a woman,” Hungjian explained. “When he had to play a man, their world was shattered. It was as if they were all forced to suddenly awaken from a dream.”
“But if Fanhua had been leading a girl on,” the inspector said. “Teasing her. It would make sense for a girl to turn on him and—”
“It wasn’t Fanhua!” Hungjian suddenly snapped.
The inspector stopped talking and waited for Hungjian to continue.
Hungjian hesitated, shaking his head in disgust at himself for breaking character.
“Fanhua went along with the rivalry, but he didn’t get close to the girls,” he said. “He…he was a cut sleeve. And he was a good actor, but he couldn’t pretend to love the girls. He wanted to be one of them. He only loved men.”
A cut sleeve referred to a story about male love from hundreds of years ago. It was a term often used to talk about men who only loved men. Having spent years in the military, Inspector Gong was no stranger to men who occasionally had relations with men. But most men who had relations with men were not cut sleeves. Most would go on to marry women and do their duty by their families by siring sons. A cut sleeve was someone who would not do this but could only sate their passions with other men.
Inspector Gong wasn’t sure at first how to respond to this information. The idea that Fanhua was not just a cut sleeve but wanted to be a woman was something he couldn’t quite wrap his head around.
“About these men he loved,” the inspector said slowly. “Would any of them have cause to hurt Fanhua?”
Hungjian cleared his throat and shook his head. “I don’t think so. Many of his patrons would simply loose interest in him if he didn’t play the part of the dan.”
“Why are you so sure of this?” Inspector Gong asked. “How do you know so much about Fanhua’s…private life?”
Hungjian smiled and was back to the careless actor he so wanted to portray. “Oh, there are few secrets backstage in the opera world. And we were friends. There is little about Fanhua that I don’t know.”
“Except who would have killed him?” Inspector Gong needled, trying to goad Hungjian into another reaction, but Hungjian held onto his role for dear life.
“Except that,” Hungjian conceded. “A true tragedy. He was the most exquisite dan. Quite a loss to the opera world.”
“And to you?” Inspector Gong pressed.
“Of course,” Hungjian said innocently. “He was a dear friend, and I shall mourn him for years to come.”
Inspector Gong inwardly groaned in annoyance. Apparently, Hungjian had completely gained control over this face he wanted to present and was not going to let go. He wasn’t going to get any more useful information out of this face changer for now.
“If you can think of anything else that will be useful,” the inspector said, �
�send for me.”
“Of course, inspector,” Hungjian said with a smile.
The inspector left in annoyance. He couldn’t trust anything Hungjian said. The part about Fanhua being a cut sleeve was probably true, but it was a strange thing for Hungjian to be upset about if he didn’t have some sort of relationship beyond friendship with Fanhua himself. But the cold way he was able to hide his true feelings on the matter unnerved Inspector Gong.
Which made him think of Wangshu and how he couldn’t trust anything she said either. He realized that trying to wrangle information out of such skilled actors was becoming his least favorite way to try to find a killer.
But he had the killer. And her name was Wangshu. Lady Li and Prince Kung might want him to lay the blame on someone else, but if he couldn’t cut through the lies and find someone else, it was Wangshu’s head that would roll.
He decided to go back to the White Lotus Theater and confront Wangshu with the true perils of her situation. One way or another, he would scare the truth out of her. If she wanted to keep her head, she needed to tell him the truth.
Inspector Gong entered the theater and went right to Wangshu’s dressing room. He tried to open the door without even knocking, but the room was locked.
“Wangshu!” he demanded as he shook the door handle. “Open up. We need to talk.” He looked around, wondering where the guard the prince had assigned to Wangshu had gone.
Some of the other troupe members peeked down the hall at the inspector.
“Does anyone have a key?” he asked. The onlookers all shook their heads. The inspector groaned and assessed the door. It looked rather flimsy. He stood back and kicked at the handle. Once, twice, and the handle gave way and the door swung open.
Wangshu was not in the room, and many of the costumes he had seen strewn about before were also gone.
Just as he knew would happen the moment Lady Li and the prince asked him not to take Wangshu into custody, the murderess had fled.
11
Lady Li sat by Swan’s side and tried to coax her into drinking some broth.
Murder at the Peking Opera Page 9