Chapter Thirteen: Tang Xiyao Is Harmed by His Nephew and Wanders Far from Home; Chang Tianyou, Aided by a Friend, Returns to His Native Place in Glory

A lyric to the tune "Jianzi Mulan Hua":

Misfortune falls upon the house — family wealth is surrendered to a stranger's name.

Three fingers suffice to scrape it bare; in a foreign land a new home is made.

On the frontier he risked his life in battle; who would have thought he'd come home robed in glory?

The world holds no hardship that cannot be overcome, so long as Heaven deigns to open its eyes.

The story goes that Chang Quan, thanks to Zhou Chongwen's clever stratagem, had made Chunhui pass as his own daughter. Disguised as a young lady, she was married to Young Master Chang. As luck would have it, Young Master Chang was besotted with wine and women; Chunhui, grateful for the kindness shown her by Chang Quan, his wife, and the young mistress, entertained him with drink and feminine charm, and the young master was so pleased with himself that he never thought to put her poetry to any serious test. On the rare occasions when verse was called for, Chunhui composed freely on her own — with no rhyme restrictions and no set theme — or simply copied out a few of the real young mistress's poems to satisfy him. He was overjoyed, and showed them to his father and his tutor; with such a bold first impression, who would dare withhold admiration? Everything that occurred on that side, Chunhui quietly reported back to Chang Quan.

Chang Quan thought to himself: "For now he is easily entertained, but what if some difficult test arises one day and the whole thing unravels? If they discover that a substitute was sent, they will come looking for us, and that will not do at all." He went at once to see Zhou Chongwen and explained the situation in full. Zhou Chongwen quietly submitted a memorial to the throne. Before long, the imperial edict came down, and the Sacred Rescript read:

Chang Quan has served on the frontier with repeated distinguished merit. He should by rights remain in post to render still greater service, and would be due promotion in due course. Yet since the General himself pleads advanced age and earnestly requests to be relieved, and in recognition of his past achievements, Chang Quan is hereby permitted to return to his native place wearing his official cap and belt, and is imperially granted the right to conduct himself with the privileges of a seventh-rank civil official.

The order arrived within days. Zhou Chongwen and Chang Quan gave thanks for the imperial grace. Chang Quan also bowed in gratitude to Zhou Chongwen for his unfailing patronage, saying: "That these old bones may return home is entirely the gift of my great benefactor." Chang Quan went home and told his household. Lady Du and the young mistress were both overjoyed, and they set about packing for the journey south. When Chang Yong heard the news, he sent his son and daughter-in-law ahead to see them off. Young Mistress Chang had no choice but to keep out of sight so as not to be seen by Young Master Chang.

Some time passed, and the day of departure was fixed. Chang Quan went to take his leave of Chang Yong. Chang Yong likewise came to bid farewell to Chang Quan and presented many generous gifts, including over three hundred taels of gold. Zhou Chongwen also gave a handsome parting present. Chang Quan had Lady Du and his daughter quietly enter the inner quarters to take leave of Zhou Chongwen's wife, and then the party set off. Fearing to attract notice, the young mistress dressed herself as a serving maid, and under this cover she and Chunhui exchanged whispered confidences and consoled each other with promises of meeting again someday. Neither could bear to part, and both shed tears. Then the young mistress set out together with her parents, while Chang Yong sent a military escort to guard them all the way through the pass. As the verse says:

I remember the bitterness of parting in those days of old —

who could have known today's farewell would be a joyful one?

That we enter Jade Gate Pass alive is already cause for wonder;

sweeter still that the bright pearl is returned to the palm of the hand.

Chang Quan, together with Lady Du, the young mistress, the maidservant Qiusu, and several attendants, made the journey home. This time bore no resemblance to the hardships of before — the difference was as vast as heaven from earth. Their official rank might not be great, but they traveled under imperial sanction. At every waystation, they commanded men and horses without difficulty, and their travel funds were ample; so they journeyed in good spirits, stopping at night and moving at dawn, making their way south by south. But let us set this aside for now.

We turn instead to Tang Tu, who, ever since engineering the death of Tang Chang, had been pestering people daily to help him have his second son adopted into Tang Xiyao's branch of the family. Tang Xiyao, however, steadfastly refused. Tang Tu nursed a deep grudge and repeatedly schemed to do him harm, but could find no opening. Then word came from the capital that matters at court had taken a certain turn, and Tang Tu grew bold and arrogant, intent on bullying Tang Xiyao. He was still constrained, though, by the fact that Xiyao was his uncle — he could hardly beat him or drag him to court. The best he could hope for was that Xiyao would die soon. Yet Tang Xiyao showed no sign of dying, and Tang Tu grew increasingly impatient, brooding and ill-tempered day after day.

One day, strolling about with nothing to do, Tang Tu happened to run into his good friend Shan Mou. Shan Mou asked: "I haven't seen you in days, Brother Tang, and yet your face looks full of good fortune — has your son been taken into your uncle's household?" At these words Tang Tu's brow immediately creased; he stamped his foot and said: "Don't speak of it! You know my situation perfectly well, Brother. I've had people plead my case a thousand times, but that cursed old man simply will not yield. I'm so furious I want to do something desperate, but I can't find any handle to grab hold of. I can't sit still at home, so I came out to clear my head." Shan Mou said: "So your son still hasn't been adopted. What an unreasonable old man. That family estate — if he won't leave it to his own nephew, who does he intend to leave it to? He must have someone else in mind. Such a stubborn fool; no wonder you're angry, Brother." Tang Tu said: "This business has had me seething to the point of losing my wits. Now that I've run into you, let's go and drink a few cups together." He pulled Shan Mou into a small wine shop nearby and chose a table to sit at.

The two drank together for a good while. Then Tang Tu said: "They say 'the player in the game is the most confused.' In the past I always had some small capacity for scheming on behalf of friends. Lately, though, my mind has gone completely muddy. I wonder, Brother Shan, whether you might have some useful plan to instruct me?" Shan Mou simply held his cup and kept drinking, as though he had not heard a word. He drank on in silence for a time, then suddenly slapped the table and said: "I have it! I have it! If you want the old man's estate, you can't afford to be half-hearted about it — these petty little schemes of yours will never topple him. I have a plan right here. If you are willing to carry it out, I guarantee that every bit of that estate will end up in your hands and your son's."

Tang Tu was delighted and pressed him for the details. Shan Mou said: "This plan is not a trifling matter — you must drain three full cups first, and then I will tell you." Tang Tu drained them obediently. Only then did Shan Mou speak: "A couple of years ago I took in a wandering stranger. He was down on his luck, and I saw he was a strong fellow, so I kept him on to run errands and do odd jobs. Unfortunately he refused to mend his ways — every coin he earned went on gambling and whoring — and he has now fallen gravely ill and is near death. If you want to deal with your uncle, here is what you must do: do thus, and so, and in this manner, and in that manner — after that, I guarantee he will come running to you. At that moment you can take advantage of his predicament and move in. Only remember, once you've got what you want, don't forget the service I've done you." Tang Tu listened to the plan and, thinking it over, found it truly ingenious. He immediately said: "Once my son has secured his position, I am willing to offer a hundred taels as a token of my gratitude." The two finished working out the details, drank on for a while longer, agreed to put the plan in motion the following day, and then parted.

Who was this man Shan Mou had taken into his household? It was none other than Song Tuotian. Years before, Song Tuotian had got himself worked up one day and organized a gang to abduct the Duan family's daughter, intending to hide her somewhere and marry her when she was older. But on the way she had disappeared, and he had gone back to his home county as before. With no one to accuse him and no evidence against him, he had continued to mix with the same crowd of idle ruffians. Then one day while gambling, Song Tuotian had a lucky run of the dice and won a great deal. He tried to stop while he was ahead, but the other man grabbed him and refused to let him quit. One wanted to keep playing; the other refused; a quarrel broke out. The man cursed him loudly: "You're walking around with a capital crime hanging over your head. I only need to go to the county office and report you, and you're as good as dead."

Song Tuotian heard his secret named aloud and was terrified of it spreading. He hastily smoothed his expression and said: "What a small-minded fellow you are! So you lose and you pull this kind of face? That's no way for a brother to act. Besides, you haven't a single copper on you — what would you even stake?" The man said: "A true gambler accepts his losses without complaint — I still have the clothes on my back to wager. What do you say?" Such is the way of gambling dens: a man can hurl abuse one moment and place a bet the next, just as before.

Though Song Tuotian went on playing, his heart was troubled. When the gambling session was over, he reflected: "The Duan affair will eventually go badly for me. And now that he has become an official — if some rumor should surface again one day, I shall be in real danger. If the girl were still alive and I were brought before the court, the worst charge would be abduction, which need not be a death sentence. But the girl has vanished — how is that different from a killing? If brought to court, wouldn't it be the same as murder?" Then he thought: "Staying here, I will always be at the mercy of these people. Better to flee to another place and seek a fresh start — why not?" And again: "The capital is a great city — perhaps that is where I should go and lie low." So he gathered some travel money, told no one, and slipped away in secret. He made his way to Shandong, where he happened upon Shan Mou on the road. The two got to talking; Song Tuotian said he had come to find a relative but found no one, and was at a loss what to do. Shan Mou could see he was a sturdy fellow who could cover ground quickly, so he took him in to run errands and carry messages. But Song Tuotian's old habits had not changed: every coin he earned went on gambling and women, and now he had fallen gravely ill and was close to death.

On the day Shan Mou and Tang Tu had fixed their plan, the following morning Shan Mou had Song Tuotian carried to Tang Xiyao's house and said: "I have heard, sir, that you possess the art of restoring the dying to life. My younger brother here is gravely ill, and I have come specially to your esteemed residence to beg you to treat him. If he recovers, I will of course reward you handsomely." Tang Xiyao then examined the patient by the four methods — observing complexion, listening to his voice and breathing, reading the physical signs, and feeling the pulse. After completing his assessment he said: "Your brother's condition is one of exhausted blood, scattered spirit, spent vital energy, and a pulse that is barely there. This is an incurable case. There is no point in prescribing medicine — you should take him home with all speed, that is what matters most."

Shan Mou put on a show of wiping away tears and said: "I have always heard that physicians are moved by compassion for all living things and dedicate themselves to relieving suffering. Your brother still breathes; all four limbs still move. How can you bring yourself to wash your hands of him like this?" He begged again and again for Tang Xiyao to prescribe something. Tang Xiyao, worn down by the pleading, had no choice but to make up a remedy and give it to him. Shan Mou then said: "My home is very far from here, and I am desperate to see him recover quickly — every moment matters. Could I beg the use of your medicine pot to decoct the herbs here?" Tang Xiyao, moved by the piteous appeal, lent it to him. But Shan Mou had already secreted about his person a noxious compound of improperly combined ingredients; he mixed it into the decoction, and when it was ready, poured it down Song Tuotian's throat again and again. In a short while, Song Tuotian gave one great cry, his innards burst apart, and he was dead. As the verse says:

Tuotian's death pays the debt of crimes past;

the disaster it brings to Xiyao is the cause that follows.

Do not think that what happens before one's eyes goes unrecorded —

in the end, Heaven will not let any man off the hook.

The moment Shan Mou saw Song Tuotian die, he set up a great hue and cry: "What a physician! He has drugged a man to death!" He stepped forward and seized Tang Xiyao by the collar: "What did my perfectly healthy brother ever do to you? What grudge or hatred did you have against him, that you should do this terrible, sinful thing and drug him to death?" Tang Xiyao said: "I told you from the start that your brother's illness was beyond saving and that I was unwilling to prescribe. You begged me repeatedly, so I gave him one dose. And the medicine I gave was entirely proper — how dare you set this trap for me?" Shan Mou erupted in fury: "Nonsense! A man has died right here in your house, and you still want to argue? I'll have you under the cangue before you admit anything."

The neighbors, seeing that a death was involved, and knowing full well that Shan Mou was a dangerous man, dared not come and intervene. Shan Mou stormed off to the county yamen, contacted an acquaintance, and had a plaint drawn up accusing Tang Xiyao of poisoning a man with toxic drugs. The magistrate accepted the case and issued an urgent warrant, dispatching four constables — all friends of Shan Mou's — who arrived at the Tang household in full force and demanded to take Tang Xiyao before the bench.

At that moment Tang Tu was already at his uncle's house, playing the part of peacemaker. When the county constables arrived, he exchanged pleasantries with them. The constables immediately ordered Tang Xiyao to come with them. Tang Tu made a great show of pleading on his behalf, playing the good man and the bad man in turns; the constables extracted their fee before agreeing to allow a delay of a day or two before he appeared before the magistrate. The magistrate also sent men round to put the frighteners on Tang Xiyao, saying: "His Honor sees this as a capital matter — he will sentence you to death the moment he sets eyes on you."

Tang Xiyao was an honest, simple-hearted old man who had never in his life been before a court. Now these people used borrowed authority to bully and terrify him until he was completely at a loss and trembling with fear. It was Tang Tu who smoothed things over on all sides — first saying that a thousand taels must be sent to the magistrate, of which Tang Tu pocketed half. Then it was settled that three hundred taels must go to Shan Mou for him to burn the body and withdraw the complaint — which Tang Tu also split down the middle. Thus Tang Xiyao, who had been a man of comfortable means, was stripped of everything by this fictitious murder charge: all his houses and fields passed into other hands, and he had nothing left but to find a small room to rent. Tang Tu had set out to swallow his uncle's estate, but thanks to Shan Mou's scheming, the whole of the estate had been turned over to other people instead. As the verse says:

Without a son, uncle and nephew must remain close kin —

one tree puts out flowers and they share the spring together.

How cruel, then, to use poison to pull up the very roots

and hand the dead wood over to another man's fire.

Though Tang Xiyao had suffered a terrible injustice and lost everything, he took comfort in his medical skills and believed there would come a day when he recovered his footing. So each day he consoled Lady Zhao, keeping his spirits up. But after the affair became widely known, the story spread far and near that Tang Xiyao had a habit of giving patients drugs that killed them — who would dare entrust their life to him now? Tang Xiyao had no practice left at all and sold off his possessions piece by piece to get by.

More than a year passed and he found it increasingly difficult to feed and clothe himself. At last he realized that people outside were afraid of him and dared not call on him. Tang Xiyao, seeing that his medical livelihood was finished, had to explain the situation to Lady Zhao: his reputation had been destroyed, and no one would hire him. Lady Zhao said: "I have heard it said: 'Where one place will not keep a man, another place will.' Since your name is ruined here, and we have no close family or good connections remaining, and the Feng family lost their position and was posted away — why don't we leave here and start fresh somewhere else?" Tang Xiyao said: "Going elsewhere would be all very well, but we know no one anywhere, and that would make things very inconvenient." Lady Zhao said: "My brother Zhao Ba is working in the salt trade in Yangzhou. We could go and depend on him — that would surely help." Tang Xiyao thought it over for a moment and said: "You have a point."

The two of them packed up their things, hired a boat, and loaded their most essential belongings on board. They set off without delay, traveling from the Yellow River all the way to Huai'an, and before long arrived at Yangzhou. Tang Xiyao found his brother-in-law Zhao Ba, who was overjoyed to see him and quickly welcomed his elder sister into the household. Fortunately Zhao Ba's business was doing well; Tang Xiyao started practicing medicine again in Yangzhou, and gradually built a reputation. Zhao Ba also introduced him to the salt merchants, bringing him more business; his practice flourished, and husband and wife lived very comfortably. As the verse says:

Lamenting that in the old place there was no ground left to stand on,

who would have thought a foreign land might hold a different sky?

Though for a time he suffered at the hands of a poisonous scheme,

in the end one goes where one is fated to go.

But let us leave Tang Xiyao settled in Yangzhou and say no more of him for now.

We return to Chang Quan, who was traveling south with Lady Du and the young mistress. After many days on the road they passed through Tong Pass and then through the capital, and made their way peacefully into Shandong. Chang Quan told Lady Du he needed to look for news of his son, and they dared not linger. Within a few days they arrived at Linqing. Chang Quan settled his family and went himself to find the innkeeper he had known in earlier days. Chang Quan bowed to the man and said: "My worthy host, do you still remember me?" The innkeeper looked Chang Quan up and down; he saw that Chang Quan's hair and beard had gone entirely white, and yet his bearing was distinguished and upright, and he simply could not place him. "A gentleman of quality, sir — I cannot for the moment recall." Chang Quan smiled and said: "Some years ago I lodged at your honored establishment, and you graciously arranged for my son to be taken into the Tang family. I went to the frontier and earned merit, and was given the rank of Cangjun. Now I have been granted the imperial favor of returning home. I have come today, first to thank you for your kindness on that occasion, and second to see my son — I beg you to guide me to where I might meet him. That would be a great favor."

The innkeeper listened, and gradually recalled: why, this was Chang Quan the soldier from several years ago. And to hear that he had become an official and was returning home by imperial decree — he hurried out from behind the counter and bowed: "So it is Lord Chang! I always said Lord Chang was a man of fortune — and today it is proved. My congratulations! My congratulations!" He bowed deeply. Chang Quan handed him some gift money and sat down, saying: "May I ask, my worthy host — is my son well these days at the Tang household?" The innkeeper said: "My Lord, please do not speak of it. Since you departed, it has been as if mulberry fields turned to sea and sea turned back to mulberry fields — such reversals of fortune as no one could have imagined."

Chang Quan, alarmed by these vague words, said anxiously: "Can it be that something dreadful has befallen my son at the Tang household? I beg you to speak plainly." The innkeeper had no choice but to explain: "At first your son fared very well in the Tang family, and he was a remarkably bright child. But then came the year of the examinations. Your son showed exceptional talent and took first place at both the prefectural and county levels. When he went to take the circuit examination, he was lost in the crowd and could not be found afterward. The Tang family searched everywhere, but he was nowhere to be found. Later there were further rumors of misfortune, but whether those were true or false, no one could say."

Chang Quan, struck by these words, burst out weeping and could not stop: "So my son is dead! I only hoped that by coming back I might still be reunited with him — who would have thought that I have returned, and you are gone forever! All those years of longing for my child — it was nothing but one great dream!" The innkeeper said: "All things are fated; every man has his appointed span. My Lord, you must not grieve too deeply." Chang Quan forced back his tears and said: "Even so, now that I have heard this news, I must go and pay my respects to Brother Tang and thank him for what he did, or our friendship would have been for nothing. I trouble you to take me there." He rose to his feet and made to leave.

The innkeeper quickly detained him: "My Lord, wait a moment. The Tang household is no longer as it was — there is no need for you to go." Chang Quan said: "How do you mean? Please tell me everything." The innkeeper then told him the whole story: how Tang Tu had plotted to seize the family estate, how Tang Xiyao had been caught up in the false murder case and spent every last coin, and how he had long since moved away to depend on relatives in another place. Chang Quan heard this and was overcome with grief. He could only take his leave and go back to Lady Du to explain that their son was gone and the Tang family had moved away to an unknown destination. Lady Du wept with sorrow, but as they were in a roadside inn, she did not dare raise her voice.

They rested that night, and the following morning set out again. After more stops and delays along the way, they finally arrived at Huating County in Songjiang Prefecture. The rivers and hills looked just as they had before, but the faces that greeted them were all changed. Chang Quan returned home to find, happily, that Chang Jian was still there. Chang Jian saw his old master return and was overjoyed; he immediately followed Chang Quan to the boat to pay his respects to the mistress of the house. Lady Du pointed to the young mistress and said: "Bow to the young mistress as well." After Chang Jian had bowed, he understood that the master had now become an official. Full of delight, he called for porters to carry the luggage into the house. Chang Quan and Lady Du, glad beyond words to have returned at last to their native soil, were visited by former friends and relatives who had heard of Chang Quan's return and of his military merits and imperial favor — a matter of great honor. Everyone came to offer congratulations. Meeting with Zhu Tianjue, Chang Quan learned that the Duan family too had lost their daughter, and that Duan Ju had since obtained an official post and gone off to his assignment. Chang Quan found his old house too small and cramped, and entrusted Zhu Tianjue to purchase a larger residence, where he settled in — but of this let us say no more.

Now we turn to Duan Ju, who had become the magistrate of Yicheng County. He was upright and honest in office, unwilling to accept lawsuits lightly; and when he did accept them, he generally urged the parties to settle the matter peacefully — truly a place of sparse litigation and contented people. At this time Duan Chang was already eighteen years old. Duan Ju could see that his son was of marriageable age and had not yet been betrothed, and he often gently encouraged him to think about it. But Duan Chang, committed to his promise to the Feng family's young lady, refused to break faith. Duan Ju could not force him, and let the matter rest. Just then the Educational Intendant arrived on his circuit inspection. Duan Ju prepared the paperwork and reported to the Intendant that his son had been studying at the post and wished to sit the examinations. The Intendant approved.

Before long, Duan Chang passed with ease. A few days later he joined the other newly enrolled students in entering the county school. Among all of them, Duan Chang was the youngest; riding a white horse with a red tassel, he was a particularly striking sight. Since his father was the sitting magistrate, local gentry and colleagues all sent banners of congratulation. After Duan Chang had paid his respects to the Educational Intendant, Duan Ju told his son to go and make courtesy calls on fellow officials and local gentry. Duan Chang first called on the Prefect and then on the Assistant Prefect in charge of judicial affairs.

Now this judicial officer had passed the imperial examinations at the jinshi level; he was a Sichuan man surnamed Liu and given the name Xing. He had a daughter of fine age who, for want of a satisfactory match, had remained unmarried past the usual time. Today, someone suddenly delivered a visiting card at his gate — it was Duan Chang, son of Magistrate Duan, a newly enrolled student. Hearing that he was quite young, Prefect Liu was eager to see him, and instructed a yamen attendant to invite him in to meet. Before long Liu Xing came out to receive him; Duan Chang was about to perform a full bow of the lower sort, but Liu Xing waved aside any ceremony and they greeted each other as uncle and nephew.

Liu Xing saw that Duan Chang was indeed youthful and refined, and was greatly pleased. He said: "With your talented nephew's gifts, surely autumn will bring the laurel, and next spring will see you heading the list." Duan Chang demurred modestly. Liu Xing asked further: "And how old are you this year, Nephew?" Duan Chang replied: "I am eighteen this year." The two spoke of other things, and then Duan Chang took his leave. Liu Xing withdrew into the inner quarters and thought to himself: "If I could have this young man as my son-in-law, I should ask no more." He wanted to send someone to speak to Magistrate Duan's office, but could think of no one suitable for the task at the moment. Then it occurred to him that one of his prized former students, Wang Chengmei, would be perfect to serve as go-between, and he had someone take his calling card to summon him.

Wang Chengmei came and, once seated, said: "I wonder what instructions the teacher wishes to convey?" Liu Xing said: "I hear that the son of Magistrate Duan is a young man of remarkable gifts who has just won his place in the school. This office has a daughter who has been raised strictly in the womanly arts and is still awaiting a match. It is my wish to unite her with young Duan in the joy of a double surname and to tie the red thread of fate. But just now I have no one to act as the shuttlecock and axe. I wonder if I might trouble you, my worthy student, to act as intermediary — do you think it can be done?" Wang Chengmei said: "With a household of your teacher's standing condescending to offer a match, Duan's parents could have no reason not to be overjoyed."

Wang Chengmei took his leave and went straight to see Magistrate Duan. He said: "I come on the instructions of Prefect Liu to call upon Your Honor. Prefect Liu has a young daughter, well-schooled in virtue and accomplishments, in the flower of her youth. He saw your honored son the other day — a fine and brilliant young man, sure to ascend to glory before long. Learning that your son has not yet married, the Prefect's heart has been drawn to him; he wishes to offer a worthy maiden to a worthy gentleman, and has entrusted me to act as matchmaker, joining your two families in a lasting bond. He begs Your Honor to grant your gracious consent."

Magistrate Duan, caught off guard by this sudden proposal of marriage, was at a loss. After a long moment of reflection, he said: "This humble post is a lowly subordinate — how could I presume to be worthy of the Prefect's distinguished household? Since Prefect Liu does not disdain us and speaks of a family alliance, it is truly more than I deserve. However, my son is by nature stubborn; he insists on achieving something in his examinations before he enters into marriage. I have often remonstrated with him, but his will is firmly set and I cannot compel him. That is why the matter has been delayed. As for the marriage itself, I beg you to convey my son's sentiments to the Prefect, and to allow us to deliberate further — would that be acceptable?"

Wang Chengmei withdrew and went back to report to Prefect Liu in full. He said: "In my estimation, the Duan family's thoughts are entirely on their son making a name for himself. The autumn examinations are already close at hand. Perhaps it would be best to wait until he has sat them. Should he, with some luck, pass the examination, I can then carry out my teacher's commission and formally press the suit — at that point Duan's parents will have nothing to object to, and young Duan will himself be willing to marry." Liu Xing said: "A father's wish to see his son win fame and wear the golden and purple is perfectly natural. But the matter of a son or daughter's marriage cannot be avoided in life. Why not settle it with a word, and then await the autumn examinations in peace, after which she may be sent to her new home in the proper manner with a hundred carriages? That seems to me entirely proper. I must trouble you again to convey my words in detail — I am grateful."

The next day Wang Chengmei came again to see Magistrate Duan and said: "I went yesterday to convey Your Honor's words to Prefect Liu and reported everything in full. Prefect Liu also praised your son highly as talented and principled. Since the autumn examinations are near, it is perfectly sensible to wait quietly. But in the matter of sealing a betrothal, even without the formal exchange of betrothal gifts, there must at least be a word given on both sides, so that the arrangement is not broken. He therefore entrusts me to once again beg Your Honor's gracious assent." Magistrate Duan had no choice but to give a vague reply: "Of course one is willing to contract a marriage — but to delay is ultimately more auspicious. Only let my son pass through the autumn examinations, and I shall send my answer." Wang Chengmei, seeing that Magistrate Duan had tacitly agreed, was greatly pleased and made a deep bow: "I shall respectfully heed Your Honor's instruction and report it to Prefect Liu at once." He then withdrew. And because of this visit, it was fated that:

The judicial officer, charmed by talent, would wed his daughter away;

the magistrate, for his son's sake, would be heading home.

Whether this match would truly come to pass — read the next chapter for the answer.