Now, Bao Xing had taken letters home on Lord Bao’s orders and then gone on to Yinyi Village. On the day he got back, he kowtowed to Lord Bao, handed over the letters he had brought and said, “The Old Master1 and the Old Mistress are in excellent health, sir. When they heard you’d been made Prefect of Kaifeng, they were overjoyed, and they gave me fifty taels of silver. Then I saw the Elder Master and the Elder Mistress. Their joy goes without saying, and they gave me thirty taels of silver too. One thing, though: the Elder Mistress gave me a thin little bundle to bring you, and told me to take good care of it and hand it to you when I got to the capital. When I took it, it had a bit of weight to it, but I didn’t know what was inside, and I was afraid of knocking it about on the road. In the end it was the Elder Mistress, seeing I didn’t know what to do with it, who told me: inside the bundle was an old mirror2, the one you found down the well, sir. Because it shone so brightly, she had hung it up in her room. Then one day Qiuxiang, the Second Mistress’s maid, slipped and fell outside the Elder Mistress’s door and split her head open, and she went in and looked at herself where the mirror hung. And what should happen but a drop of her blood fell on the face of the mirror, and all at once the clouds on it cleared away. Qiuxiang let out a great scream, turned and ran into the Second Mistress’s room, and before her mistress knew what was happening, pinned her down and gouged out her right eye. The girl has been raving mad ever since. They keep her locked up to this day, like a living ghost. The Second Mistress has fainted dead away two or three times. They’ve called in a doctor to treat her, but she isn’t well yet. When I saw the Second Master, he was very down in the mouth. He gave me two taels of silver too.” And as he spoke, he presented the bundle. Lord Bao did not even open it to look, but told him to put it safely away. Bao Xing went on with his report: “I saw your old teacher, Master Ning, too. He was very pleased when he read your letter. He says you’re to do your work well, be loyal and serve the realm, and he gave me a lot of good advice besides. I stayed at home one day and then went on to Yinyi Village with the good news and your letter. Lord Li was overjoyed and agreed to everything at once: he’ll be sending the young lady here for the wedding before long. He gave me a silver ingot3 and two bolts of silk, and a letter in reply.” And he presented the letter. Lord Bao took it and read it through: Madam Zhang, it said, would be able to come to the capital with the young lady within the month. At once he ordered lodgings made ready for them, and he sent men out to meet them on the way all the same. Then he told Bao Xing to go and rest for now; they would talk about the wedding arrangements the next day.

Within a few days, sure enough, Madam Zhang arrived with the young lady. All the business of fixing the day and fetching the bride was seen to by Bao Xing, who arranged everything with the greatest care. When the auspicious day came, a good many officials came to offer their congratulations as well — but there is no need to tell it all in detail.

After the wedding, Lord Bao found his bride, Miss Li, gentle and retiring, chaste and serene, and dignified in her bearing — every inch the well-bred daughter of a great house — and his heart was full of joy. What was more, among her dowry was a treasure called the Basin of Past and Present. It had two holes in it, one yin and one yang, and might truly be called a rare wonder seldom seen in this world. Lord Bao, however, paid it no mind. When the third day after the wedding and then the full month had passed, Madam Zhang took leave of her daughter and went home. Before she went, she left one of her own servant boys, a handy lad named Li Cai, to wait on Lord Bao, and he and Bao Xing became the trusted boys of the inner household.

One day, it being a day for receiving complaints4, Lord Bao was sitting in court when he saw a countryman of about fifty crying “Injustice!” and had him brought up into the hall at once. “What is your name?” asked Lord Bao. “What wrong have you suffered? Tell it.” The man knocked his head on the floor toward the bench. “My name is Zhang Zhiren, sir, and I live in Qili Village. I have a younger cousin of our clan named Zhang Youdao, a peddler by trade, who lives no more than a few li from me. One day I went to his house to see him — and he’d died three days before! I asked his widow what illness it was, and why she hadn’t so much as sent me word. She said he’d died of heart pains, and that with no one else in the house she hadn’t been able to send word. Since I wasn’t satisfied about how Youdao had died, I laid the matter before Xiangfu County5 and said I was willing to have the coffin opened6 and the body examined. His Honour the magistrate accepted my complaint. But when the coffin was opened and the body examined, there wasn’t a mark on it. Then she turned nasty and said all sorts of slanderous things about me, and His Honour gave me twenty heavy strokes of the bamboo and sent me home once someone stood surety for me. But the more I think about it, the surer I am that there was something wrong about Zhang Youdao’s death. I had no choice but to come before Your Honour, and I beg you, clear as the blue sky, to stand up for me.” With that, his eyes brimming with tears, he lay prostrate on the ground. “Was your cousin a sickly man?” asked Lord Bao. “He never had anything the matter with him,” said Zhang Zhiren. “When did you last see Zhang Youdao?” asked Lord Bao. “We always got on well, sir,” said Zhiren. “I was often at his house, and he was often at mine. Five days before, he was still at my house. When he hadn’t come by for five or six days, I went to his house to find him — and he’d died three days before.” Lord Bao thought it over. Five days before, the man had still been at his cousin’s house; on the sixth day the cousin had gone to see him; and by then he had been dead three days. That left a day or two in between — there had to be a reason for it. Having thought it through, Lord Bao accepted the complaint and at once issued a warrant tally summoning Zhang Youdao’s widow to court. Then he closed the session for the time being, went to his study and read the plaint over closely, much puzzled. Bao Xing and Li Cai stood by in attendance. Suddenly they heard footsteps outside. Bao Xing hurried out to see who it was: a runner from the outer office, with a letter in his hand. “There’s a scholar outside asking to see His Honour,” he said. “This letter is from the monk Liaoran.” Bao Xing took the letter, went in, reported and presented it. Lord Bao had the deepest respect for the monk Liaoran. He hastily opened the letter and read it. It was a letter of recommendation, saying that the bearer was a man of fine learning and good character. When he had read it, Lord Bao at once told Bao Xing to ask the man in.

Bao Xing went out to look. The clothes and cap the man had on were the very ones Lord Bao had changed out of at the temple. They were far too wide and far too long and hung on him all anyhow, and the top of the cap had been pinched up into a fold. Bao Xing saw that these were his master’s old clothes, which the monk Liaoran must have given the man to wear, but he said nothing about it. “My master asks you to come in,” was all he said. With a quiet, scholarly air, the man followed Bao Xing in. At the study Bao Xing lifted the door curtain. Lord Bao rose to his feet; the man stepped forward and bowed, and Lord Bao returned the bow and offered him a seat. “May I ask your honourable surname, sir?” said Lord Bao. “Your junior bears the double surname Gongsun7,” the man replied, “and my given name is Ce. For years I have been stuck in the examination halls, falling behind Sun Shan8 time after time, and so I drifted to the Great Xiangguo Temple. Master Liaoran has been most kind to me, and he gave me this letter to bring, in the hope that Your Honour will be good enough to take me on.” Lord Bao saw that his bearing was composed and his speech lucid. He went on to question him on books and classical allusions, and found that his answers flowed as freely as water and his learning was deep and broad: here was a man of real talent who had simply never passed the examinations. Lord Bao was delighted.

They were still talking when a runner from the outer office came to report: “The Widow Zhang has been brought in.” Lord Bao called for the court to be made ready. He told Li Cai to keep Mr. Gongsun company and, taking Bao Xing with him, went at once to open court. When he had taken his seat on the bench, he called, “Bring in the Widow Zhang.” The runners on duty took up the cry: “Bring in the Widow Zhang! Bring in the Widow Zhang!” In through the outer side gate came a woman of no more than twenty-odd. There was not a trace of fear on her face, and she was still muttering to herself: “A decent man dies, and they have to go turning his corpse over and rattling his bones. What sin did I commit in a past life? And now they’ve hauled me in here. What clever new trick are they going to dream up this time?” Talking all the while, she came up into the hall without a glance this way or that, and with a dainty, swaying grace she knelt facing the bench — every inch a woman well used to lawsuits. “Are you the Widow Zhang, née Liu?” asked Lord Bao. “My own name is Liu, sir,” the woman answered, “and I was married to Zhang Youdao, the peddler.” “What illness did your husband die of?” asked Lord Bao. “That evening,” said the widow, “my husband came home, ate his supper and went to bed once the first watch had begun. Some time past the second watch he suddenly said he had a terrible pain in his heart. I was frightened out of my wits and jumped straight up. He kept crying out how bad it hurt, and before long — who could have known? — he was dead. Oh, the misery it’s brought me!” And with that the tears streamed down her face. Lord Bao slammed down the startle block. “What did your husband really die of? Speak!” “Out with it!” roared the runners standing in the hall. The widow shuffled half a pace forward on her knees. “Your Honour, my husband truly did die of heart pains. How would I dare tell a lie?” “If he died of an illness,” barked Lord Bao, “why didn’t you send word to his cousin Zhang Zhiren? I’ll tell you plainly: Zhang Zhiren has already laid a charge before this court. Confess the truth, and spare your skin and flesh the pain!” “As for not sending word to Zhang Zhiren,” said the widow, “for one thing, I couldn’t find anybody to take it, and for another, I didn’t dare.” “And why was that?” asked Lord Bao. “While my husband was alive,” said the widow, “that man was forever coming round to the house, and whenever he found no one else about, he’d start sweet-talking me with this and that, and I never paid him any mind. And just last time, when he came to the house and I told him his cousin was dead, far from shedding a tear, he started talking such filth at me that even now I can’t bring myself to repeat it. I shouted and cursed at him till he went. And then, what with shame and spite, he goes and lodges a complaint with the county, saying there was something wrong about his cousin’s death and demanding the coffin be opened! In the end His Honour did examine the body, and there wasn’t a mark on it, so he gave him twenty strokes of the bamboo. But he won’t let it rest, and now he’s brought his complaint before Your Honour. My poor husband, to suffer such indignity after he’s dead — and me to bear such a shameful name! It’s a wrong, a real wrong! I beg you, Your Honour, clear as the blue sky, stand up for me!” And as she talked and talked, she burst into tears.

Lord Bao saw that her words came pouring out like a waterfall and cut like a sharp sword, and that all she said sounded perfectly reasonable. He thought to himself: “To judge by her talk, this woman is up to no good. But if I set her face to face with Zhang Zhiren — honest, simple soul that he looks — he’s bound to come off worse against her tongue. I must find out what really happened. Only then will she admit she’s beaten.” Having thought this, he said to the widow, “From what you say, then, you have been falsely accused for no reason at all. Zhang Zhiren is a thoroughly wicked man. I shall deal with this in my own way. Go now, and wait to be summoned in three days.” The widow knocked her head on the floor and withdrew, with what looked like a gleam of triumph. Lord Bao grew more suspicious still.

When the session was over, he went to his study and showed Gongsun Ce the statements and the plaint. Gongsun Ce read them and bowed. “To your junior’s eye,” he said, “these statements show that Zhang Zhiren is not wrong to be suspicious. But the Widow Zhang is a sly talker. The facts will have to be searched out before the woman can be made to give in.” Lord Bao had not expected Gongsun Ce to put into a single sentence the very thing he had been thinking himself, and he was delighted. “Then what is to be done?” he asked. Gongsun Ce had been hoping for some service to offer by way of introduction, and he rose at once. “Let your junior change into travelling clothes and look about a little in secret,” he said. “If I find an opening, I shall come back and report.” “In that case, I must put you to the trouble, sir,” said Lord Bao, and he told Bao Xing, “Get the gentleman money for the road and whatever else he needs, quickly. Don’t keep him waiting.” Bao Xing assented and followed Gongsun Ce to his own study, where Gongsun Ce told him exactly what he wanted, and Bao Xing hurried off to see to it. Before long everything was ready: a little medicine chest, a signboard9, and a Taoist robe, a silk sash, shoes, socks and so on. Gongsun Ce changed into them from head to foot, slung the medicine chest on his back and slipped quietly out by the side gate, bound for Qili Village to make his inquiries.

But he set out in high spirits only to turn back in low ones: a whole day of bustling about turned up no opening at all. Seeing that it was getting late, and feeling hungry besides, he could only hurry back to Kaifeng for now and think again. But in his haste he paid no heed to the road. He should have gone north, but he took a fork to the southeast instead. He had gone several li further than he need have before, at long last, he reached a market town. When he asked, he learned that it was Yulin Town, and he took a room at the Xinglong Inn, tired and hungry. He was just thinking about his supper when a crowd of men arrived with several horses. Among them was a short, swarthy man, who bawled at the top of his voice, “I don’t care who he is — clear him out for me, and be quick about it! Rile your lord and master here, and I’ll pull your whole inn down around your ears!” Another man beside him said, “No, Fourth Brother. In everything, it’s first come, first served. Even if we want someone to make room for us, we have to ask nicely, not raise a din like this.” And he turned to the innkeeper. “Landlord, go and have a word with him and see. It’s only that there are a lot of us, and it would be awkward for both parties to share. We’d be much obliged — much obliged!” The landlord had no choice. He went to the best rooms10 and said to Gongsun Ce, “I’m sure you won’t mind, sir — you’ll have to bear with us, if you’d be so good! I’m afraid we must put you out a little: would you stay in the east room and let us have these two outer rooms?” And with that he made a deep bow. “I never asked for the best rooms when I came,” said Gongsun Ce. “It was your boy who kept on at me, and so I took them. Now, since there are so many of the new guests, I’ll gladly give up all three rooms. Just give me a single room, landlord, and that will do. We’re all on the road. Even a man with a mansion of a thousand rooms takes up no more than seven feet of it to sleep in. Why make a fuss over it?” As they were talking, in came a great, dark, imposing fellow, all smiles. “No, no, that won’t do! Please, sir, stay just as you are. If you’ll be so kind as to let us have these two outer rooms, that’s more than enough. We’ll put all our men in the servants’ quarters. We wouldn’t dream of putting you to any more trouble.” Gongsun Ce pressed his offer again and again, but the big man would not hear of it, and in the end Gongsun Ce moved into the east room.

The big man had their men unload the baggage and take off the saddles and bridles, and everything was put neatly away. Gongsun Ce could see that there were four masters, and the other five or six were all servants, who kept calling for water to wash in and shouting for kettles of boiling water, making no end of noise. And the short, swarthy man was already bawling for wine and food. The inn boy was rushed off his feet, so that Gongsun Ce ended up drinking a whole pot of wine with nothing to eat: his dishes never came, and he didn’t dare press for them. Then he heard the short, swarthy man say, “It’s not that I’m afraid of anything else. But tomorrow, when we get to Kaifeng, what if he remembers the old grudge and won’t take us on? What do we do then?” And he heard the big, dark-faced man say, “Don’t worry, Fourth Brother. As I see it, Lord Bao is not that kind of man at all.” At this Gongsun Ce could not help rising to his feet. He came out of the east room, raised his clasped hands in greeting to the four of them and said, “So you four gentlemen are on your way to Kaifeng. Unworthy as I am, I should be glad to introduce you.” The four of them hastily rose, and once again it was the big man who spoke: “And who might you be, sir? Please, come over and sit down, so that we can talk properly.” Gongsun Ce declined politely several times before he sat down, and they all told one another their names.

To learn how Wang, Ma, Zhang and Zhao fared the next day when they came to Kaifeng to join Lord Bao, read the next chapter.