Now, at Sanxing Town, Lord Bao had accepted the woman’s plaint. The woman, it turned out, had been born a Wen and had married into the Han family. Since her husband died she had only her one son, named Ruilong, who was just sixteen. They lived at Baijiabao, in three rented rooms. Madam Han, née Wen, took in needlework and kept her son at his studies. The son studied in the east room and the mother worked in the west room. Mother and son scraped by as best they could, with no maid or manservant at all. One evening Han Ruilong was at his books by the lamp when, turning his head all of a sudden, he saw the curtain to the west room stir: someone had gone into the west room, someone in clothes of leek green and shoes of bright scarlet. He sprang to his feet and rushed into the west room, but there was only his mother, sewing by the lamp. Seeing Ruilong come in, she asked, “Have you finished your lessons for tonight, my son?” “I just thought of an allusion,” said Ruilong, “and for the moment I can’t remember where it comes from, so I came in to find the book and look it up.” As he spoke, he made for the book chest. He went through the motions of looking for a book, but all the while he was quietly on the watch, and he saw nothing at all. There was nothing for it but to take a book out and go. He was utterly baffled. He was afraid a thief might be hiding somewhere in the dark, yet he dared not raise the alarm for fear of frightening his mother, and he did not close his eyes all night. The next evening he was at his books again. Some time into the first watch, in a moment’s daze, he again saw the curtain to the west room stir, and again the figure in green with the scarlet shoes went into the room. Young Han rushed in after it, crying, “Mother!” That one cry gave Madam Wen a terrible fright. “Why aren’t you at your books?” she said. “What’s all this fuss about?” For a moment young Han could find no answer, and then he had to tell her the truth. “Just now I saw someone come in here, but when I ran in after, there was nobody. It was the same last night.” Madam Wen was astonished to hear it. “If some villain is hiding in here, that’s no small matter! Take the lamp, son, and have a good look round.” Young Han took the lamp and shone it under the bed. “Mother,” he said, “why is the earth under the bed heaped up so high?” Madam Wen hurried to look. It was loose earth, sure enough. “Let’s move the bed and take a proper look,” she said. Mother and son lifted the bed out of the way and scraped back a little of the loose earth, and there was a chest. Their hearts gave a leap. They hurriedly found an iron tool and prised the lid open. Young Han saw that the chest was crammed with yellow and white, and his heart overflowed with joy. “Mother,” he said, “it’s a whole chest of gold and silver! The money has come looking for us!” Madam Wen cried sharply, “Nonsense! As if such a thing could be! Even if it is money, it’s ill-gotten money, and we mustn’t touch it.” But young Han was only a boy, and having set eyes on so much gold and silver, how could he bear to part with it? Besides, mother and son were very poor. So he said to her, “Mother, since ancient times more people than anyone can count have dug in the earth and found gold1. And we didn’t steal this, and we didn’t pick it up after someone else lost it. How can it be called ill-gotten? Heaven must have taken pity on us, mother and son, alone and poor as we are, and that is why this money has come to light. Please, Mother, think it over carefully.” Madam Wen heard him out and thought there was something in it. “In that case,” she said, “tomorrow morning we’ll buy the three offerings2 and give thanks to the gods, and after that we’ll decide what to do.” Young Han was overjoyed that his mother had agreed. He covered the chest with the loose earth as before and put the wooden bed back in place for the time being, and mother and son each went to bed.

But how could young Han sleep? He tossed and turned, his thoughts running wild and his heart racing, and it was a long time before he drifted off into dreams. Even then the thing would not leave him. He woke with a start, saw that the sky was growing light, got up in haste, told his mother, and set off to buy the three offerings. But once he was out of the door and looked about him, he saw it was only the moon, shining as bright as day; the hour was still early. There was nothing for it but to walk on slowly. When he came to Butcher Zheng’s shop, there was a light inside after all. He knocked at once, wanting to buy a pig’s head — but suddenly the light went out, and for a long while no one answered. He had to turn back. He had gone only a few steps when he heard Butcher Zheng’s door. Looking round, he saw the light was on again, and heard Butcher Zheng call, “Who wants a pig’s head?” “Me,” young Han answered. “I’d like a pig’s head on credit.” “Oh, it’s you, Mr. Han,” said Butcher Zheng. “If you want a pig’s head, why didn’t you bring something to carry it in?” “I was in such a hurry when I left the house that I forgot,” said young Han. “What can I do?” “Never mind,” said Butcher Zheng. “I’ll wrap it in a cloth for you. Bring the cloth back tomorrow.” So he wrapped it up in the cloth and handed it to young Han. Young Han carried it before him in both hands. He had not gone far before he grew tired, so he set it down for a rest and then went on again. Just then he met the night watchmen coming the other way. They saw young Han clutching a bloodstained bundle in both hands and panting from the effort, and they could not help growing suspicious. “What have you got there?” they asked. “A pig’s head,” young Han answered — but he was so out of breath that the words came out blurred. That made the watchmen more suspicious still. While one of them talked to him, the other bent down and opened the bundle to look. Under the bright moon, with their lantern besides, they saw it plainly: inside lay a woman’s head, dripping with blood, the hair tumbling loose from its knot. At the sight young Han was frightened out of his wits. The watchmen would hear no explanations. They marched him off to the yamen of Ye County, to report the matter as soon as it was light.

When the magistrate saw that it was a case of murder, he opened court at once and had young Han brought up. He turned out to be a timid young scholar. “What is your name?” the magistrate asked. “Why did you kill someone?” “My name is Han Ruilong,” young Han said, weeping. “I went to Butcher Zheng’s shop to buy a pig’s head, and I’d forgotten to bring anything to carry it in, so Butcher Zheng wrapped it in a cloth and handed it to me. Afterwards I met the watchmen and they questioned me, and when they opened it — I never dreamed of such a thing — it was a human head.” With that he burst into bitter tears and could not stop. When the magistrate had heard him, he at once issued a warrant tally to bring Butcher Zheng before the court. But when Butcher Zheng was brought in, far from admitting anything, he said there had never been any pig’s head bought at all. “Isn’t that cloth yours?” he was asked. “Young Han borrowed that cloth three days ago,” he said. “Who’d have thought he’d wrap a head in it and shift the blame onto me?” Poor young scholar — how could he hold his own against so hard-hearted a butcher? Fortunately the magistrate was a clear-sighted man. Seeing that young Han did not look like one who would do murder, he would not put him to torture; instead he had him locked up for the time being, and the butcher with him, meaning to find some way of questioning them further.

As it happened, Madam Wen had presented her plaint at Sanxing Town, and Lord Bao had accepted it. When he reached the official guesthouse3, the county magistrate had already come out to receive him and was waiting outside in attendance. Lord Bao rested a little and took some tea, then asked the magistrate in and at once inquired about the case of Han Ruilong. “The case is still being tried,” the magistrate replied. “It has not yet been settled.” Lord Bao ordered everyone involved in the case, and all the evidence, brought to the guesthouse for a hearing. Before long they were there. Lord Bao opened court and took his seat, and had Han Ruilong brought up first. The boy’s face was streaked with tears; trembling all over, he knelt before the bench. “Han Ruilong,” Lord Bao called, “why did you commit murder? Tell the court.” With tears streaming down his face, young Han said, “I was buying a pig’s head at Butcher Zheng’s shop, and I’d forgotten to bring anything to carry it in. He wrapped it in a cloth and handed it to me. I never thought it would land me in a case like this.” “Stop there,” said Lord Bao. “When you bought the pig’s head and met the watchmen, what time was it?” “It wasn’t light yet,” said young Han. “Not light yet,” said Lord Bao, “and you went out to buy a pig’s head? What for? Speak!” By now young Han had no choice but to tell. He laid it all out before the bench, every last detail, and then burst into loud sobs: “I beg Your Excellency to spare my life!” Lord Bao nodded to himself. “The boy is poor,” he thought, “and greed for money got the better of him. But by the look of him, he has certainly done no murder.” “Take him down,” he ordered. Then he said to the magistrate, “Magistrate, take your men to Han Ruilong’s house and examine that wooden chest. See that it is searched thoroughly.” The magistrate assented, left the guesthouse, mounted his horse and rode off with his men.

Meanwhile Lord Bao had Butcher Zheng fetched out and brought up into the hall. One look at his fierce brows and evil eyes told Lord Bao that this was a bad lot. When he was questioned, his answers were the same as in his earlier statement. Lord Bao flew into a rage. He had him slapped twenty times across the face4 and then given thirty heavy strokes of the bamboo. What a villain! Not a word did he say — he certainly knew how to stand up to punishment. “Take him down,” Lord Bao ordered.

Then the magistrate came back, came up into the hall and reported: “As ordered, your humble subordinate went to Han Ruilong’s house to examine the chest. When we opened it, the gold and silver inside turned out to be spirit money5, paper ingots for the dead. Then we searched further down, and what should we find but a headless corpse — a man’s.” “Did you establish what weapon was used on him?” asked Lord Bao. That one question left the magistrate dumbstruck. All he could say was, “When I saw that the body had no head, I didn’t get as far as finding out what weapon was used.” “You went to make an examination,” said Lord Bao sharply. “Why didn’t you examine it properly?” “Your subordinate was careless,” the magistrate said hastily, “very careless.” “Withdraw,” said Lord Bao. The magistrate hurried out, drenched in a cold sweat. “What a formidable imperial commissioner6!” he said to himself. “From now on I’d better mind my step in everything.”

Now Lord Bao ordered Han Ruilong brought up again and asked him, “Han Ruilong, the house you live in: did it come down to you from your forebears, or did you build it yourselves?” “Neither,” young Han replied. “We rent it, and we haven’t lived there long.” “Who lived there before?” Lord Bao asked. “I don’t know,” said young Han. When he had heard this, Lord Bao had young Han and Butcher Zheng both held in the jail for the time being.

Lord Bao left the bench with a heavy heart. He sent for Mr. Gongsun, and together they went over the case: a woman’s head, a man’s body — what was to be done with that? Mr. Gongsun offered to go out again and make secret inquiries, but Lord Bao shook his head. “Where you have succeeded once, don’t go back for more,” he said. “Let me think it over carefully.” Gongsun withdrew and talked the case over with Wang, Ma, Zhang and Zhao, but none of them could arrive at any firm view. Then Mr. Gongsun went back to his own lodgings.

Then Zhao Hu, the Madcap7 (Lengye), said to his three elder brothers, “Since we came to serve at Kaifeng, we haven’t earned an inch of credit. Now that something hard has come up, it’s only right we take some of the worry off His Excellency’s hands. Let me go and do a bit of secret inquiring.” The three of them burst out laughing. “Fourth Brother,” they said, “this is delicate, secret work. How could a rough fellow like you manage it? Whatever you do, don’t go making yourself a laughing stock!” And with that they burst out laughing all over again. Fourth Master felt rather small. Mumbling something to cover his embarrassment, he went back to his own room in a foul temper. But the man who waited on Fourth Master was a quick-witted fellow. He stepped up and whispered in his ear, “I’ve got an idea, sir.” “What idea?” said Fourth Master. “Those three laughed at you, didn’t they, sir?” said the man. “Then show them! Go and make your secret inquiries anyway, just to spite them, and see what comes of it. Only you’ll have to be cleverly disguised, so nobody knows you. Then if you find something out, the credit’s all yours. And if you don’t, you just slip back quietly, nobody’s any the wiser, and there’s no shame in it. What do you say, sir?” The Madcap was delighted. “Good lad! Good idea!” he said. “You see to it for me.” The man hurried off. It was a long while before he came back. “Fourth Master,” he said, “that job of yours was no easy matter, I can tell you. It took some finding. Cost sixteen taels and five qian of silver.” “Never mind how much,” said Fourth Master. “So long as the job’s done right, that’s all.” “Done right, I guarantee it,” said the man. “Let’s find some quiet spot, and I’ll get you dressed up, sir. How’s that?”

Fourth Master was delighted. He followed the man out of the guesthouse to a quiet spot, where the man undid a bundle and told Fourth Master to take off his clothes. Inside the bundle was soot scraped from the bottom of a cooking pot. He smeared it over Fourth Master’s face and daubed his body and hands all over in blotches and streaks. Next he brought out a cap, half in tatters and burst open at the crown, and put it on Fourth Master’s head. Then he took out a ragged coat hanging in shreds and put it on him. Then he had Fourth Master take off his trousers, shoes and socks, and put him into a torn pair of drawers with half the waistband gone and hardly any legs left. On Fourth Master’s legs he stuck two medicated plasters, spat on them a few times and smeared on some gaudy reds and greens to pass for oozing pus and blood. There was a pair of heel-less, board-soled shoes for Fourth Master to shuffle about in. And besides all that there was a yellow-glazed earthenware jar and a stick for beating off dogs, which he gave Fourth Master to hold. In no time at all he had Fourth Master got up like a patchwork quilt. Sixteen taels and five qian of silver for that whole costume? Never mind that — nobody would have given thirty-six cash for it. The man had named such a price only because Fourth Master was one to weigh out gold with the big steelyard8 and spend silver by the heap, a man who never cared how much anything cost. Besides, this was official business, a secret inquiry, so he was even less inclined to reckon up the silver on an abacus. As they parted, the man said, “When the first watch begins, sir, I’ll be waiting for you here again.” Fourth Master said he would come. Then, jar in his left hand and stick in his right, off he went, straight for the next village.

On and on he walked, until he felt something jabbing his toes, and it hurt like fury. Coming to a little temple, he sat down on a stone in front of it, took off his shoe and looked: a nail had come up through the sole. He swung the shoe and slammed it down on the stone, thwack, thwack, again and again, until at long last he had beaten the nail back down. Without meaning to, he disturbed the monk inside the temple, who thought someone was knocking at the gate. But when the monk opened up and looked out, there was a beggar banging a shoe. Fourth Master looked up and suddenly asked him, “Do you know where a woman’s body and a man’s head might be?” “Ah, a madman,” said the monk. He gave no answer, but shut the temple gate and went back in.

All at once it dawned on Fourth Master, and he laughed at himself. “I’m on a secret inquiry,” he said. “What do I go blurting things out for? What a numbskull! I’d better be off, quick.” Then he thought to himself, “Seeing I’m dressed as a beggar, I ought to be begging. Now that’s one thing I’ve never learned. Well, I’ll just make it up as I go along and give a holler or two.” So he cried out, “Pity me — a bowl, half a bowl, the strong white stuff or the yellow9, either will do!” At first he was in high spirits: here he was on a secret inquiry! But later, when no one paid him any attention, he began to wonder how he would ever find anything out like this, and he grew anxious. Besides, the sun was sinking in the west, and soon it would be dark. Luckily it was just after the full moon, so though darkness had fallen, a bright round moon hung in the east. He came to the next village. And as luck would have it, he saw a figure leap over the back wall of a house and drop inside. Fourth Master’s heart gave a jump. “It’s barely dark,” he thought. “What’s a thief doing out already? Never mind — I’ll follow him in and have a look.” No sooner thought than done: he set down his jar, dropped his stick, flung off his broken shoes and, barefoot, crouched and sprang upward. He landed on top of the wall, and seeing a stack of firewood piled against it, he slid down the stack to the ground. Looking carefully about him, he saw someone lying flat on the ground there. The Madcap stepped up and pinned him down with one hand, and the man let out a yelp. “One squeak,” said Fourth Master, “and I’ll squeeze the life out of you!” “I won’t squeak! I won’t squeak!” said the man. “Spare my life, sir!” “What’s your name?” said Fourth Master. “What bundle did you steal? Where have you put it? Out with it!” “My name’s Ye Qian’er,” said the man. “I’ve an old mother of eighty at home and nothing to keep her on. It’s the first time I’ve ever done this, sir!” “You really haven’t stolen anything?” said Fourth Master. As he asked, he searched about, looking closely, and saw a strip of white silk sticking out of the ground. Fourth Master gave it a tug. The earth was loose, and the more he pulled, the longer the strip grew. He gave a mighty jerk — and there was a pair of tiny golden lotuses10. Then he took hold of the legs and heaved with all his strength. It was the body of a woman, without a head. At the sight Fourth Master said, “Well, well! So you’ve killed someone, and you try that song and dance on me! I’ll tell you straight: I’m none other than Zhao Hu, in the service of His Excellency Lord Bao of Kaifeng, and I’ve come here on this very business, to make secret inquiries.” When Ye Qian’er heard this, he was scared half to death. “Master Zhao, Master Zhao!” he pleaded. “It’s true I’m a thief, but I never killed anyone!” “Who cares about you?” said Fourth Master. “I’ll tie you up first, and we’ll talk later.” So he bound him with the strip of white silk; and for fear he would cry out, he tore off a piece of it and stuffed it into his mouth. Only then did he say, “You stay put here, boy. Your lord and master will be back in two shakes.” Fourth Master climbed up the woodpile and leapt down outside the wall. Never minding his jar, his stick or his broken shoes, he ran barefoot like the wind, straight back to the guesthouse.

By now the first watch had sounded. Fourth Master’s man was there waiting for him. The figure coming toward him looked like Fourth Master, but there was a tremendous slap-slap, slap-slap of feet on the ground. The man hurried up to meet him. “How did it go?” “Lad,” said Fourth Master, “it couldn’t have gone better!” And as he spoke, he went racing on toward the guesthouse. Seeing him like this, the man knew something must have happened, and he followed hard on his heels. But since the imperial commissioner was staying at the guesthouse, there were men guarding the gates on every side, and the watch was very strict. When they saw a beggar come running in from outside, the guards hurried forward to stop him. “What a nerve!” they cried. “Do you know where you are?” Before they had finished, Fourth Master swept his arms out to right and left, and one after another they went reeling and staggering and very nearly fell flat. Fourth Master was already inside. They were just about to raise a shout when Fourth Master’s man came in. “Don’t shout,” he said. “That’s our Fourth Master.” At this they all stood there dumbfounded, with no idea what was going on.

Our Madcap ran on inside and came straight upon Bao Xing. He reached out and grabbed him. “Just the man I want!” Bao Xing nearly jumped out of his skin. “Who are you?” he cried. Fourth Master’s man caught up from behind. “It’s our Fourth Master.” In the shadows Bao Xing still could not make him out. Then he heard Zhao Hu say, “Go in and announce me to His Excellency. Tell him Zhao Hu asks to see him.” Only then did Bao Xing know the voice. “Oh my! My dear Madcap, you frightened me to death!” They went together to where a lamp was burning, and when Bao Xing got a look at Fourth Master’s fine get-up — truly, no brush could paint it and no words describe it — he could not help laughing. Fourth Master was frantic. “Never mind laughing — go and tell His Excellency, quick! Tell him I’ve got urgent business and must see him. Quick! Quick!” Seeing the state he was in, Bao Xing knew something must be up, and he hurried Zhao Hu to Lord Bao’s door. Bao Xing went in to announce him, and Lord Bao called at once, “Come in.” When he saw what Zhao Hu looked like, he too found it funny. “What is it?” he asked. Zhao Hu told him the whole story from beginning to end: how he had gone to make his secret inquiries, how he had come upon Ye Qian’er, and how he had found a woman’s headless body. Lord Bao had been at a loss for any thread to follow in this case. Now, hearing this, he was overjoyed.

To learn what happened next, read the next chapter.