on three sides, and a curtain made of sheer white gauze in front. It served both to block the scorching sunlight and to keep the voracious flies away. To further lower the temperature inside, Zhao Xiaojia spread a wetted blanket over the top; and in order to lessen the foul smells that attracted the flies, yayi washed the accumulated filth off of the platform with buckets of water. With Zhao Jia’s help, Meiniang emptied a bowl of ginseng into her father’s stomach, and then, half an hour later, followed that with one of Su Zhonghe’s medicinal packets. Sun Bing cooperated with their ministrations, a sign that he planned to live as long as possible. If he’d longed to die, he’d have clamped his mouth shut.
The emergency treatment worked, as Sun Bing’s condition slowly improved. I could not see his face through the sheer curtain, but his breathing was regular, his body odor less repellent than before. I made my way down off the platform, so tired that I could barely hold my head up and weighed down with an indescribable sadness. I had no reason to be worried. Excellency Yuan’s instructions had been to keep Sun Bing from dying. Now Sun was determined to live on, while Zhao Jia was not about to let him die, and neither was Meiniang. The tonic had infused his body with the strength to go on; exhaustion was no longer his enemy. Go ahead, keep on living. That went for me, too—I was determined to keep on living until my luck ran out.
With bold confidence, I left the Tongde Academy grounds and walked out onto a street that no longer seemed so familiar, heading straight for a public house. A young waiter rushed eagerly up to me, shouting:
“We have an honored guest——”
The rotund proprietor sort of rolled up to me, a smile of manifest puffery on his oily face. I looked down to examine my official garb, which made passing as a common citizen impossible. Besides, even dressed in ordinary clothing, my face was known to everyone in town. Each year on Insect-Waking Day, the beginning of spring, I joined the peasants toiling in the field; on Grave-Sweeping Day, I helped with planting peach trees on the outskirts of town; and on the first and fifteenth of each month, I set up a table in front of the Propagation Hall to read from the classics and instruct the people on the tenets of loyalty, filial piety, benevolence, and righteousness . . . I am a good official, close to the people, and were I to leave office, I am confident that I would be rewarded with a very large umbrella from the masses . . .
“I welcome the esteemed gentleman to this humble establishment. Your presence brings me great honor . . .” The proprietor was reaching the heights of pedantry. “May I ask your pleasure, sir?”
“Two bowls of millet spirits and a dog’s leg,” I said.
“My apologies, Laoye,” the proprietor said unhappily, “but we do not sell dog meat or millet spirits . . .”
“Why is that? Why would you not sell such fine items?”
“All I can say is . . .” The proprietor stumbled over his words, apparently trying to screw up the courage to say what was on his mind. “Laoye is probably aware that the finest millet spirits and dog’s legs in town are supplied by Sun Meiniang. We cannot compete with her . . .”
Heated millet spirits, fragrant dog meat, scenes of the past in my head repeat . . .
“What do you sell?”
“To answer Laoye, we sell Baigar and Erwotou sorghum spirits, baked sesame cakes, and stewed beef.”
“Then bring me two liang of Baigar, one jiao of the beef, plus two hot sesame cakes.”
“Right away, Laoye,” the man said as he disappeared around back.
The Gaomi Magistrate sits in a shop, his thoughts running apace, and all he can think of is Meiniang’s lovely face. She possesses what it takes to create stirrings of love, like water for frolicking fish, or nectar for honeybees, weaving soft romantic lace . . .
After he placed my order in front of me, I dismissed him with a wave of the hand. “I’ll pour my own today,” I said as I picked up the bottle and filled a green cup to the brim. The first spicy cupful brought a pleasant sensation as it slid down my throat; the second heated cupful made me slightly woozy; and the third turbid cupful made me sigh