asked:
“Are you Zhao Jia?”
“I am Xiaojia; Zhao Jia is my dieh.”
“Where is your dieh?” one of the puffed-up yayi demanded.
“In the house.”
“Inform him that he is to accompany us to the yamen.”
I had taken all I was about to take from this pair of nasty dogs.
“My gongdieh never goes anywhere,” I said angrily. “What offense has he committed?”
My display of temper was not lost on them.
“Mistress of the Zhao home, we merely follow orders,” they said, looking for sympathy. “And we are only messengers. If he is guilty of an offense, we do not know what it is.”
“One moment, good sirs. Are you inviting my dieh to the yamen for a social visit?” Xiaojia asked, his curiosity bubbling over.
“How should we know?” the yayi said with a shake of his head and an enigmatic grin. “Maybe he’ll be treated to some nice dog meat and millet spirits.”
Of course I knew exactly what kind of dog filth and cow crap had come out of the little mutt’s yap: a not so subtle hint at what went on between Magistrate Qian and me. Xiaojia? How could a blubber-head like him have any idea what this was all about? He was only too happy to run inside.
I followed him in.
Qian Ding, you fucking dog, what are you up to? You arrest my dieh, but hide from me. Then early this morning, two of your lackeys show up to take my gongdieh away. The plot certainly thickens. First my own dieh, then my husband’s dieh, and now my gandieh, three diehs coming together in the Great Hall. I’ve sung the aria “Three Judges at Court,” but this is the first time I’ve heard of “Three Diehs at Court.” I doubt that you can stand being away from me for the rest of your life, damn you, and the next time I see you, I’m going to find out what you have in your bag of tricks.
Xiaojia wiped his oily, sweaty face with his sleeve and said excitedly:
“Good news, Dieh! The County Magistrate has invited you to the yamen for some millet spirits and dog meat!”
My gongdieh remained seated in his chair, his bloodless little hands resting squarely on the arms. He made not a sound, and I could not tell whether he was resting calmly or putting on a show.
“Say something, Dieh. The yayi are out in the yard waiting for you.” Xiaojia’s nerves were beginning to show. “Will you take me with you, Dieh? Seeing the Great Hall would be a real treat. All those times my wife went, she never once agreed to take me along . . .”
I jumped in to put a stop to what the buffoon was saying:
“Don’t listen to him, Gongdieh. Why would they invite you for a social visit? I’m sure they plan to detain you. Have you committed a crime?”
My gongdieh lazily opened his eyes and sighed.
“If I have,” he said, “it is what was expected of me. As they say, ‘Confront soldiers with generals and dam water with earth.’ There is nothing to get excited about. Go invite them in.”
Xiaojia turned and shouted out the door:
“Did you hear that? My dieh wants you to come in.”
With a hint of a smile, my gongdieh said:
“Good boy; that’s the right tone for people like that.”
So Xiaojia went outside and said to the yayi:
“Are you aware of the fact that my wife and Magistrate Qian enjoy a close relationship?”
“You foolish boy,” his dieh said, shaking his head in exasperation before fixing his gaze on me.
I watched as the smirking yayi pushed Xiaojia to the side, hands on the hilts of their swords, resolute and ruthless in their determination as they rushed into the room where we were talking.
My gongdieh opened his eyes a crack, barely wide enough for two chilling rays to escape and smother the two men with contempt. Then he turned his gaze to the wall and ignored the intruders.
After a quick exchange of looks that seemed to bespeak their embarrassment, one of them said officiously, “Are you Zhao Jia?”
He appeared to be asleep.
“My dieh is getting on in years and doesn’t hear so well,” Xiaojia said breathlessly. “Ask him again, but louder.”
So the fellow tried again:
“Zhao Jia,” he said more forcefully, “we are here by order of the County Magistrate to have you visit him in the yamen.”
“You go back and tell your Eminence Qian,” he replied unhurriedly, without looking at them, “that Zhao Jia has weak legs and aching feet and cannot answer the