he could get in through the gate to check things out. A German bayonet abruptly ended his mission. Going in through the main gate, it seems, is out of the question . . .”
Just as Zhu Ba was getting started, a shout from outside cut him off in midsentence. Hou Xiaoqi’s monkey startled us when it skittered in through the front entrance, with Hou himself hard on its heels. His face was lit up, as if coated with moonbeams. He ran straight to Zhu Ba.
“Eighth Master,” he said, “wonderful news! My vigil by the ditch behind the yamen has paid off. Fourth Master passed on the news that we are to climb over the rear wall late at night, when the sentries are sleepy. We can pull the switch, make the exchange, right under their noses. I scouted the terrain and discovered a crooked-necked old elm tree ready-made for scaling the wall.”
“Monkey,” an obviously pleased Zhu Ba said excitedly, “damned if you don’t have a couple of tricks up your sleeve! All of you, sleep if you can, but lie there and conserve your energy if sleep won’t come. The time to act has arrived. Pulling this off will be like ramming it up von Ketteler’s ass, and none of those bastards will know what hit them.” Zhu Ba then turned his attention to the corner, where the good fellow who would take my dieh’s place was fast asleep. “Xiao Shanzi,” he said, “that’s enough sleep. Time to get up. I’ve got a jug of fine spirits here, that and an off-the-bone roast chicken. You can share that with me as my going-away gift. If you’re having second thoughts, I can find someone else, though this promises to be not only a sensation, but one in which the name of the central figure will go down in history. I know what a fine singer you are, a disciple of Sun Bing. Your voice is an exact replica of his, and there is hardly any difference in appearance between you two. Look closely, Sun Meiniang, and tell me if this fellow isn’t the spitting image of your dieh.”
The fellow got lazily to his feet, yawned grandly, and wiped off the slobber that had crept out of his mouth while he slept. Then, rousing himself out of his lethargy, he turned to show me his coarse, long face. His eyes and brows certainly did resemble my dieh’s, and he had the same high nose. But he had a slightly different mouth. My dieh had full lips, while this fellow’s were thin, but that was all that kept him from being my dieh’s double. Add the right clothes, and he could fool anyone.
“Oh, I forgot one thing, Eighth Master,” Hou Xiaoqi said sheepishly. “Fourth Master wanted me to be sure to tell you that when Sun Bing was being interrogated, he angered von Ketteler with such foul curses that the German hit him with the butt of his pistol and knocked out two front teeth . . .”
Every eye in the room was immediately focused on Xiao Shanzi’s mouth. His lips parted to reveal two perfect rows of teeth. Most beggars have good teeth, since they survive on hard, crunchy food most of the time. Zhu Ba studied Xiao Shanzi’s mouth.
“You heard what he said. Yes or no, it’s up to you. I won’t hold it against you if you say no.”
Xiao Shanzi spread his lips wide, as if to show off his perfectly aligned, albeit yellow, teeth. Then he smiled.
“Shifu,” he said, “if I’m willing to give up my life, why would I want to hold on to a couple of teeth?”
“Good for you, Shanzi,” Zhu Ba said emotionally as he turned the sack of fireflies over and over in his hand. “That’s what I’d expect a true disciple to say.” The light from the agitated insects rose like a mist and lit up the few scraggly white hairs on Zhu Ba’s chin.
“Shifu,” Shanzi said, tapping his front teeth with a fingernail. “They’re starting to itch, so bring on the food and drink.”
Beggars swarmed the area behind Zhu Ba to be the first to bring out a jug and the cooked chicken, wrapped in clean lotus leaves. I could smell the chicken even before the leaves were peeled away, and the aged spirits before the stopper was removed. The two aromas were totally different, but came together as a potent reminder of the Mid-Autumn Festival, which was only days away, and the