Chapter 7: A False Three-Thousand-Tael Debt Used to Rob Three Hundred in Silver — Brigands in High Spirits; Five Slaps Exchanged for Five Loads of Rice — A Village Elder Profits

Qu Juexing turned to Guixing and said, "If we simply ambush them with a mob and rob them outright, not only will bystanders be outraged, but it will also be said that people of the Ling family went out robbing — and that sounds bad. I have a plan. We write a promissory note reading: 'In the forty-eighth year of Kangxi, Liang Chaoda, having purchased paddy fields for a price he could not fully meet, borrowed three thousand taels of silver from Ling Zongke, which he applied to the purchase price, with monthly interest at one percent.' Armed with this forged note, we approach them on the pretext of collecting a debt. If they refuse to acknowledge it, we simply take their silver by force. Bystanders will only know it as a debt collection — who would call it robbery?"

Guixing was delighted. He had Zongkong go recruit the men while he had Juexing write the forged note. When it was done, he rubbed dust and rice bran over the surface to give it an aged look. Zongkong had already gathered fourteen men from the Ling clan of strong-arm ruffians — Liu Yu, Liu Quan, Runbao, Runzhi, Yue Wen, Yue Wu, Yue Shun, Yue He, Zong Meng, Zong Ji, Zong Xiao, Zong He, Haishun, and Meixian — deployed at key positions along the road, ready to make the interception.

As fate would have it, Tianlai was heading straight into trouble. Had the brothers collected their debt and taken a boat directly to the provincial capital from Cha Village, nothing would have happened to them. But as luck would have it, Tianlai remembered some errand that called him home first. And since they had collected three hundred taels of silver and carrying it on foot was inconvenient, he hired a small boat and rowed toward Tan Village.

As the boat neared the wharf, Tianlai, from the deck, spotted a man sitting in the roadside tea pavilion near the landing — none other than Ling Guixing, fanning himself with a folding fan, looking left and right. Tianlai's heart sank. He quickly divided the three hundred taels of silver with Junlai, each of them binding some onto their person. Alas — Tianlai had already made his mistake at this point! Having seen Guixing and knowing well that this boded ill, he should have told the boatman to reverse course and row back to the provincial capital. Instead, he walked straight into the trap. When the boat docked and he paid the boatman, he stepped ashore. From the tea pavilion, Ling Guixing rose in a three-swaying swagger to meet him. The Liang brothers tried to pretend not to see him and walk past. Guixing was not about to let them go; he called out loudly, "Mr. Liang! How do you do!" The brothers had no choice but to acknowledge him.

Guixing came forward with a smile that did not reach his eyes, and a three-part murderous glint hidden in his gaze. On his left stood the rat-eyed Qu Juexing; on his right stood the leopard-browed Ling Zongkong. One was exchanging meaningful looks and winks; the other was cracking his knuckles and rubbing his palms. Tianlai could only reply "Good day" and tried to walk past. Guixing said, "Mr. Liang! We have not met in some time — why must you rush off? Your humble cousin has a question to put to you." Tianlai stopped and asked, "What is it you wish to ask?" Guixing replied, "Regarding that debt of your late uncle's — when might it be settled?" Tianlai was taken aback: "What outstanding debt did my late father have?" Zongkong gave a cold laugh and said, "Young Master! Just as I expected — he means to deny it. It is fortunate the document has not been lost — why not produce it for him to see?" Guixing drew the forged note from his person, smiling, and handed it to Tianlai: "This is your late uncle's handwriting — I trust Old Cousin still recognizes it." Tianlai received it and read it over, then said, "Whether the handwriting is genuine or not, that can wait — but if this debt truly existed, why was it not raised and settled when we wound up the accounts in Nanyong?" Junlai cried out, "Elder Brother! Why waste words on this! As for this sort of promissory note, if we are to pay it, let all parties come to the Great King Temple — strike the bell, beat the drum, and before the divine image I will count out every last cash!"

Dear readers, does that not make you smile? What Great King deity is going to adjudicate a private debt dispute? Yet in those days of deep superstition, there were those who felt that the divine presence was truly above and all around them. In calling out those words, Junlai was expressly demonstrating his own uprightness and that he was not a man who repudiates his debts. Compare this to the present day, when attitudes are gradually becoming more enlightened and superstition is slowly fading — some who champion this change are quietly pleased, thinking: wonderful, wonderful, this power of the divine is being dismantled, the people's intelligence is awakening, fatalistic thinking is being set aside, those who act with real purpose are multiplying. Yet things do not always turn out as one expects. Why are they not as one would expect? Because those crafty, deceitful villains — once they know that ghosts and spirits are nonsense and that superstition is useless — are not about to admit it openly. When the moment comes, they will still invoke divine oaths and sacred curses to carry out their thievery and swindling!

But enough of digressions. Qu Juexing stepped forward and said, "You two need not argue, and need not lose your temper! By rights, Qibo and your two selves are closely related by blood — though the old saying speaks of 'the father's debt falling to the son,' Qibo has always had tender regard for family affection and has never raised the matter until now. If there were no pressing need, let alone three thousand taels, even thirty thousand could wait. The fact is, Qibo urgently needs to purchase charitable endowment fields for the clan and is short by exactly three thousand taels, which is why he comes to discuss the matter now. Otherwise, do you really think that a man of Qibo's generous character — one who sets up clan charity fields — would let a mere three thousand taels sour the family harmony? Now you two — one arguing, one losing his temper — Qibo does not mind, but I am afraid the other Ling kinsmen and nephews here might not let it stand." Before Tianlai could reply, and before Guixing had opened his mouth, Zongkong declared, "Cousin Juexing is quite right!" and promptly rounded his strange eyes wide, gave a thunderous shout, and bellowed, "Where are all the kinsmen and brothers?" Tianlai saw that things had turned dangerous; he urgently signaled Junlai with his eyes, trying to signal to him to escape. But before Zongkong's shout had died away, on the left leapt out Liu Yu and Liu Quan; on the right, Runbao and Runzhi; ahead, Yue Wen and Yue Wu; behind, Yue Shun and Yue He — all springing up at once. Guixing, Juexing, and Zongkong had already jumped onto the stone bench outside the tea pavilion. Zongkong took the folding fan from Guixing's hand, snapped it open with a crack, gave it a flourish, and shouted, "Seize the debt-defaulters — search them!" The eight men surged forward as one, seized the Liang brothers, stripped the three hundred taels of silver from their persons, gave them a beating, and only then let them go. The mob closed ranks around Guixing and moved off, while the Liang brothers fled in desperate retreat.

But at a turning in the road, moving so fast they came around it blindly, they collided full-force with someone coming the other way. Looking up, they found it was none other than Haishun. Haishun bellowed, "The debt-defaulters are here!" Before the shout had finished, Meixin, Zong Meng, Zong Ji, Zong Xiao, and Zong He swarmed in and surrounded the Liang brothers. Fists and kicks rained down for a satisfying round before they went howling off to rejoin Guixing and escort him home.

Guixing took the seat of honor in the center; Juexing sat at his left, Zongkong at his right, the rest arranged in rows on both sides.

Guixing was about to hand out rewards when Juexing pressed something into his hand, saying, "Nephew, keep this safe." Guixing looked: it was the forged promissory note. Juexing explained, "When you showed it to him, you did not take it back immediately, and I was already quietly worried. Fortunately, when we surrounded them, he panicked and dropped it, and I happened to pick it up. If this thing falls into the wrong hands, it will bring trouble — best to keep it close. It may prove useful later." Guixing was greatly pleased. He gave orders to weigh out the three hundred taels: for Liu Yu and the others below, ten taels each, leaving one hundred and sixty. For Zongkong, who had given his greatest efforts in managing the operation, and for Juexing, whose scheme had produced the result, seventy taels each. The remaining twenty taels were used to buy fine fish, choice meats, and good wine for a victory feast. They celebrated with great noise and drinking deep into the night.

As for the wretched Tianlai brothers — beaten and limping at every step, they made their way home at last and spent a night in pain. Mistress Ling heard the full story and was heartbroken, but utterly helpless. After nursing their wounds for several days, once the bruises had healed, they returned to the provincial capital to tend to the business.

Some months later, Tianlai came home to pay his respects to his mother and stayed a few days at home. One day he happened to go out for a walk — and once again, as fate would have it, he ran into Guixing. Since the day he had rounded up men and robbed the silver, Guixing had been feeling remarkably pleased with himself; he found the whole business a most entertaining amusement. It was not about the money — but when he recalled the scene of that day, it had felt like commanding a battle: he was the commander-in-chief, the strategist on the left, the guard on the right, and at one shout the hidden forces rose from all sides; that stone bench was like a general's platform; he had stood upon it in supreme satisfaction! Sitting at home all day, he was truly bored, and wished he could have that sort of diversion more often. Keeping this desire in his heart, he now encountered Tianlai on the road. He thought to himself that Tianlai had been humiliated by him so many times and should be feeling utterly downcast — so why did his face look bright and full of energy? If only he could give him another beating right now — but he had not brought anyone along, and if he tried to do it himself, he was not sure he could get the better of the man.

At this moment of indecision, he suddenly noticed his clan uncle Yi Xing coming along in the distance — a night-soil bucket in his left hand, a night-soil hook in his right. Guixing had always had a low opinion of Yi Xing, but in his current need, he had no choice but to call him over. He slipped to one side and called, "Uncle, how you work hard! Haven't seen you in a while — how have you been?" Yi Xing came nearer and said, "A pair of empty hands doing the meanest kind of work — where is there any comfort in that? Unless my nephew takes care of me, perhaps things would be better." Guixing replied, "As it happens, I need these very empty hands of yours right now — and I guarantee you'll be making money at once." Yi Xing asked, "What do you mean?" Guixing replied, "Liang Tianlai is just ahead. Give him a good thrashing for me, and I'll reward you generously." Yi Xing shook his head, "No, no — Tianlai has done me kindnesses and me him no wrong. How could I lay a hand on him?" Hearing this, Guixing was much displeased. Just then, Zongkong happened along. Learning the situation from Guixing, Zongkong turned to Yi Xing: "Brother, you have no sense in this! Young Master is one of our own; Tianlai is an outsider. Even if he has done you a favor, when is that now? Never mind that young master says he'll reward you — even without a reward, you ought to do this. Look at your bucket — still empty! The day is nearly done — what have you got to exchange for coin? You're not going to go begging it from Liang Tianlai, are you?" Yi Xing hesitated for a long while and at last said, "And if I do it — what exactly will the reward be?" Guixing replied, "One strike, one load of rice — if you can strike a thousand blows, that is a thousand loads of rice!" Zongkong added, "Listen to that — listen! If you won't go, I'll step in myself!" Yi Xing replied, "I'll go, I'll go." He set down the bucket and hook, considered a moment, walked to the edge of the drainage ditch, scooped a handful of mud, smeared it across his face, and walked straight up to Tianlai. He raised his hand and struck him across the face.

Tianlai had been standing there idly watching people pass; when he saw a man — face covered in mud — running at him, he thought it must be some madman. Then suddenly the man was right beside him, slapping him across the face. Tianlai was so startled he froze for an instant, then two or three more slaps landed in quick succession. Tianlai covered his face and fled. In terms of raw strength, Yi Xing could have beaten Tianlai a thousand times — but he had received kindnesses from Tianlai, and his conscience was not entirely dead. So he had smeared mud on his face for fear Tianlai might recognize him. And when the moment came and he actually struck, his hand went soft after only a few blows; he could not continue even if Tianlai had stayed. So when Tianlai ran, he let him go. He turned back and asked Guixing, "How many blows was that, nephew? Were you counting?" Guixing was delighted and said, "Five, five! Uncle, go home for now — I'll have the five loads of rice delivered to you at once."

Yi Xing went home happily, bucket and hook in hand. When he walked in and told his wife, née Zheng, she was both startled and pleased at first — and then she struck him full across the face and began to cry and scream.

What in the world was that about? Read on to the next chapter.