“He won’t be coming back. He robbed me. If I do ever see him, I’ll be the first to give him a beating.”
Kao left the cemetery in a whirl of oaths and curses.
When Cí told Xu how he’d paid the gardener to dress up in the outfit, Xu couldn’t help but laugh.
“But how on earth did you manage to not be found?”
“Got the gardener to shut me in a coffin—and make it look like it was nailed shut.”
Xu told Cí what had happened with Kao. “I think you’re going to have to tell me why they’re after you. He mentioned a reward,” Xu said, smiling, “but I don’t think it can be as much as you and I are making together!”
Cí hesitated—he knew his story was barely believable. He also sensed something in Xu he didn’t know if he trusted.
“Maybe it’s time for us to stop,” said Cí.
“No way. We’ll change the disguise to something that makes you stand out less. Pick the clientele better. And make it clear they can’t go telling the world about us.” He winked. “I’m not an ambitious man. We’ve got plenty of clients for now.”
But Cí still had the feeling that Xu would do whatever suited him. He’d said that this was by far the most lucrative enterprise he’d been involved in.
“I’m not sure, Xu. I don’t want you to get in trouble on my account.”
“Don’t worry. We’re in this together. Really. But let’s forget about our little shows for a while, do something else.”
Cí nodded.
But two days later, Cí found out that he and Xu weren’t really in it together at all.
It was cold that morning, and Xu’s wives began complaining that Third was nothing but a nuisance. She was a slow learner, her head was always in the clouds, she got the prawns and the shrimp mixed up, and she ate too much. Plus they always had to look out for her health, which Cí knew was getting worse.
“Maybe we sell her,” shrugged Xu. It was a common thing to do when families were hard up, he pointed out. Of course, Cí wouldn’t hear of it.
“Marry her off, then,” suggested one of the wives.
Xu was all for it. He didn’t see how Cí could object. It was simply a question of finding a man who liked that she was still so young. When it came down to it, Xu thought girls were a nuisance until the day they married.
“It’s what we did with ours. Third’s eight years old—just tart her up a bit so she doesn’t look so sickly. I can think of plenty of guys who’d love a little puppy like her.”
Cí went and stood by Third. It wasn’t unusual for girls to be offered in marriage at a young age—sometimes it was their best chance in life—but Cí couldn’t accept the idea of Third being slobbered over by some old man.
But Xu kept on pushing.
As always, Cí’s only recourse was to offer money. But he was running out of that fast. Third’s medicine seemed to be having less effect; she needed more and more all the time. Since Xu had taken over the necromancer duties, and since he had gotten numerous tellings wrong, their joint income was much lower. In fact, before this conversation started, Cí had been about to ask for a loan.
“You’re going to have to go back to earning proper money yourself,” said Xu, pointing to the necromancer’s outfit. Cí looked at it; though Xu had said he would modify it, he had barely done so. Cí took a deep breath and frowned. He worried about Kao’s coming back, but if he wanted to save his sister, he had no choice.
That afternoon a group of students and their professor came to the cemetery. Seeing them coming, Xu told Cí how they would sometimes have visits from Ming Academy. For a fee, they were allowed to examine any unclaimed corpses. Luckily, there were three there at the time. Xu was exultant.
“Get dressed,” he said. “These youngsters are so easy to get money out of, if you don’t mind groveling a bit.”
Cí did as he was told, the thought of Third spurring him on.
He watched from a corner, waiting for Xu’s signal. The professor, a bald man dressed in red who seemed somehow familiar, arranged the students around the first body. Before they began, he reminded them of their responsibilities as future judges: respect for the dead and honor in their judgments were of utmost importance. Then he lifted the sheet covering the corpse, revealing a baby girl, a few months old perhaps, who had been found dead in a canal that morning. The professor embarked on a round of questions for the students to discern the cause of death.
“Drowned, no question,” said the first, a fresh-faced youth with a smug air. “Swollen belly, no other marks.”
The professor nodded, inviting the next student to speak.
“A typical case of drowned child. The parents threw her in the canal to avoid caring for her.”
“They might not have been able to,” chided the professor. “Anyone else want to say anything?”
Cí saw that the professor noticed one of the students—Cí had overheard him called Gray Fox, a fitting name given his gray-streaked hair—kept yawning, but the instructor said nothing. He covered the baby’s corpse and asked Xu to bring the next. Xu took the opportunity to bring Cí in and introduce him as the resident necromancer. The students looked at his outfit with disdain.
“We’re not interested in tricksters,” said the professor. “None of us here believe in necromancy.”
Cí withdrew, disconcerted. Xu whispered to him to take off the mask and stay alert. The next corpse was an ashen old man who had been found dead behind a market stall.
“Death by starvation,” said one of the students, looking closely at the corpse with its protruding bones. “Swollen ankles and feet. Approximately seventy years old. Natural causes, therefore.”
Again, the professor agreed with the evaluation, and everyone congratulated the student. Cí saw how Gray Fox went along with it but was clearly being insincere in his praise. Xu and Cí brought the third corpse in a large pine coffin. When they removed the lid, the students at the front recoiled, but Gray Fox came forward, immediately quite interested.
“Looks like a chance for you to show your talents,” said the professor.
The student replied with an ironic smile and approached slowly, his eyes glittering as though the coffin contained a treasure. Cí watched as the student took out a sheet of paper, an inkstone, and a brush. His approach was very similar to the one Cí had seen Feng take in examinations.
First Gray Fox inspected the corpse’s clothes: the undersides of the sleeves, inside the shirt, trousers, and shoes. Then, having removed the clothes and scrutinized the body, he asked for water, which he used to clean the blood-spattered skin thoroughly. Next he measured the body and announced that the deceased was at least two heads taller than an average man.
He began examining the swollen face, which had a strange puncture on the forehead that exposed a bit of the skull. Instead of cleaning it, the student extracted some mud, saying the puncture was most likely the result of a fall, the head having struck the edge of paving stones or cobblestones. He made a note and then described the eyes, which, half open and dull, were like those of a dried fish; the prominent cheekbones; and the wispy mustache and strong jaw. Then he mentioned the long gash that ran from one side of the throat, across the nose, and all the way to the right ear. He looked closely at the edges of the cut and measured the depth. Smiling, he wrote something else down.
He moved on to the muscular torso, noting eleven stab wounds; then he scanned the groin; the small, wrinkled penis; and the thighs and calves, which were also muscular and hairless. Cí helped him turn the corpse over; aside from the bloodstains, the back was unmarked. The student stood back, looking ever more pleased.