The Inexorable Justice of the Mandarin Shan Tien
“By having access to this enclosure you will be able to walk where
otherwise you must stand. That in itself is cheap at the price of
three reputed strings of inferior cash. Furthermore, it is possible to
breathe.”
“The outlook, in one direction, is an extensive one,” admitted Kai
Lung, gazing towards the sky. “Here, moreover, is a shutter through
which the vista doubtless lengthens.”
“So long as there is no chance of you exploring it any farther than
your neck, it does not matter,” said Li-loe. “Outside lies a barren
region of the yamen garden where no one ever comes. I will now leave
you, having to meet one with whom I would traffic for a goat. When I
return be prepared to retrace your steps to the prison cell.”
“The shadow moves as the sun directs,” replied Kai Lung, and with
courteous afterthought he added the wonted parting: “Slowly, slowly;
walk slowly.”
In such a manner the story-teller found himself in a highly-walled
enclosure, lying between the prison-house and the yamen garden, a few
days after his arrival in Yu-ping. Ming-shu had not eaten his word.
The yard itself possessed no attraction for Kai Lung. Almost before
Li-loe had disappeared he was at the shutter in the wall, had forced
it open and was looking out. Thus long he waited, motionless, but
observing every leaf that stirred among the trees and shrubs and
neglected growth beyond. At last a figure passed across a distant
glade and at the sight Kai Lung lifted up a restrained voice in song:
“At the foot of a bleak and inhospitable mountain
An insignificant stream winds its uncared way;
Although inferior to the Yangtze-kiang in every detail
Yet fish glide to and fro among its crannies
Nor would they change their home for the depths of the widest
river.
The palace of the sublime Emperor is made rich with hanging
curtains.
While here rough stone walls forbid repose.
Yet there is one who unhesitatingly prefers the latter;
For from an open shutter here he can look forth,
And perchance catch a glimpse of one who may pass by.
The occupation of the Imperial viceroy is both lucrative and
noble;
While that of a relater of imagined tales is by no means
esteemed.
But he who thus expressed himself would not exchange with the
other;
For around the identity of each heroine he can entwine the
personality of one whom he has encountered.
And thus she is ever by his side.”
“Your uplifted voice comes from an unexpected quarter, minstrel,” said
a melodious voice, and the maiden whom he had encountered in the wood
stood before him. “What crime have you now committed?”
“An ancient one. I presumed to raise my unworthy eyes--”
“Alas, story-teller,” interposed the maiden hastily, “it would seem
that the star to which you chained _your_ wrist has not carried you
into the assembly of the gods.”
“Yet already it has borne me half-way--into a company of malefactors.
Doubtless on the morrow the obliging Mandarin Shan Tien will arrange
for the journey to be complete.”
“Yet have you then no further wish to continue in an ordinary
existence?” asked the maiden.
“To this person,” replied Kai Lung, with a deep-seated look,
“existence can never again be ordinary. Admittedly it may be short.”
As they conversed together in this inoffensive manner she whom Li-loe
had called the Golden Mouse held in her delicately-formed hands a
priceless bowl filled with ripe fruit of the rarer kinds which she had
gathered. These from time to time she threw up to the opening, rightly
deciding that one in Kai Lung’s position would stand in need of
sustenance, and he no less dexterously held and retained them. When
the bowl was empty she continued for a space to regard it silently, as
though exploring the many-sided recesses of her mind.
“You have claimed to be a story-teller and have indeed made a boast
that there is no arising emergency for which you are unprepared,” she
said at length. “It now befalls that you may be put to a speedy test.
Is the nature of this imagined scene”--thus she indicated the
embellishment of the bowl--“familiar to your eyes?”
“It is that known as ‘The Willow,’” replied Kai Lung. “There is a
story--”
“There is a story!” exclaimed the maiden, loosening from her brow the
overhanging look of care. “Thus and thus. Frequently have I importuned
him before whom you will appear to explain to me the meaning of the
scene. When you are called upon to plead your cause, see to it well
that your knowledge of such a tale is clearly shown. He before whom
you kneel, craftily plied meanwhile by my unceasing petulance, will
then desire to hear it from your lips . . . At the striking of the
fourth gong the day is done. What lies between rests with your
discriminating wit.”
“You are deep in the subtler kinds of wisdom, such as the weak
possess,” confessed Kai Lung. “Yet how will this avail to any length?”
“That which is put off from to-day is put off from to-morrow,” was the
confident reply. “For the rest--at a corresponding gong-stroke of each
day it is this person’s custom to gather fruit. Farewell, minstrel.”
When Li-loe returned a little later Kai Lung threw his two remaining
strings of cash about that rapacious person’s neck and embraced him as
he exclaimed:
“Chieftain among doorkeepers, when I go to the Capital to receive the
all-coveted title ‘Leaf-crowned’ and to chant ceremonial odes before
the Court, thou shalt accompany me as forerunner, and an agile tribe
of selected goats shall sport about thy path.”
“Alas, manlet,” replied the other, weeping readily, “greatly do I fear
that the next journey thou wilt take will be in an upward or a
downward rather than a sideway direction. This much have I learned,
and to this end, at some cost admittedly, I enticed into loquacity one
who knows another whose brother holds the key of Ming-shu’s
confidence: that to-morrow the Mandarin will begin to distribute
justice here, and out of the depths of Ming-shu’s malignity the name
of Kai Lung is the first set down.”
“With the title,” continued Kai Lung cheerfully, “there goes a
sufficiency of taels; also a vat of a potent wine of a certain kind.”
“If,” suggested Li-loe, looking anxiously around, “you have really
discovered hidden about this place a secret store of wine, consider
well whether it would not be prudent to entrust it to a faithful
friend before it is too late.”
It was indeed as Li-loe had foretold. On the following day, at the
second gong-stroke after noon, the order came and, closely guarded,
Kai Lung was led forth. The middle court had been duly arranged, with
a formidable display of chains, weights, presses, saws, branding irons
and other implements for securing justice. At the head of a table
draped with red sat the Mandarin Shan Tien, on his right the secretary
of his hand, the contemptible Ming-shu. Round about were positioned
others who in one necessity or another might be relied upon to play an
ordered part. After a lavish explosion of fire-crackers had been
discharged, sonorous bells rung and gongs beaten, a venerable
geomancer disclosed by means of certain tests that all doubtful
influences had been driven off and that truth and impartiality alone
remained.
“Except on the part of the prisoners, doubtless,” remarked the
Mandarin, thereby imperilling the gravity of all who stood around.
“The first of those to prostrate themselves before your enlightened
clemency, Excellence, is a notorious assassin who, under another name,
has committed many crimes,” began the execrable Ming-shu. “He
confesses that, now calling himself Kai Lung, he has recently
journeyed from Loo-chow, where treason ever wears a smiling face.”
“Perchance he is saddened by our city’s loyalty,” interposed the
benign Shan Tien, “for if he is smiling now it is on the side of his
face removed from this one’s gaze.”
“The other side of his face is assuredly where he will be made to
smile ere long,” acquiesced Ming-shu, not altogether to his chief’s
approval, as the analogy was already his. “Furthermore, he has been
detected lurking in secret meeting-places by the wayside, and on
reaching Yu-ping he raised his rebellious voice inviting all to gather
round and join his unlawful band. The usual remedy in such cases
during periods of stress, Excellence, is strangulation.”
“The times are indeed pressing,” remarked the agile-minded Mandarin,
“and the penalty would appear to be adequate.” As no one suffered
inconvenience at his attitude, however, Shan Tien’s expression assumed
a more unbending cast.
“Let the witnesses appear,” he commanded sharply.
“In so clear a case it has not been thought necessary to incur the
expense of hiring the usual witnesses,” urged Ming-shu; “but they are
doubtless clustered about the opium floor and will, if necessary,
testify to whatever is required.”
“The argument is a timely one,” admitted the Mandarin. “As the result
cannot fail to be the same in either case, perhaps the accommodating
prisoner will assist the ends of justice by making a full confession
of his crimes?”
“High Excellence,” replied the story-teller, speaking for the first
time, “it is truly said that that which would appear as a mountain in
the evening may stand revealed as a mud-hut by the light of day. Hear
my unpainted word. I am of the abject House of Kai and my inoffensive
rice is earned as a narrator of imagined tales. Unrolling my
threadbare mat at the middle hour of yesterday, I had raised my
distressing voice and announced an intention to relate the Story of
Wong Ts’in, that which is known as ‘The Legend of the Willow Plate
Embellishment,’ when a company of armed warriors, converging upon
me--”
“Restrain the melodious flow of your admitted eloquence,” interrupted
the Mandarin, veiling his arising interest. “Is the story, to which
you have made reference, that of the scene widely depicted on plates
and earthenware?”
“Undoubtedly. It is the true and authentic legend as related by the
eminent Tso-yi.”
“In that case,” declared Shan Tien dispassionately, “it will be
necessary for you to relate it now, in order to uphold your claim.
Proceed.”
“Alas, Excellence,” protested Ming-shu from a bitter throat, “this
matter will attenuate down to the stroke of evening rice. Kowtowing
beneath your authoritative hand, that which the prisoner only had the
intention to relate does not come within the confines of his
evidence.”
“The objection is superficial and cannot be sustained,” replied Shan
Tien. “If an evilly-disposed one raised a sword to strike this person,
but was withheld before the blow could fall, none but a leper would
contend that because he did not progress beyond the intention thereby
he should go free. Justice must be impartially upheld and greatly do I
fear that we must all submit.”
With these opportune words the discriminating personage signified to
Kai Lung that he should begin.
The Story of Wong Ts’in and the Willow Plate Embellishment
Wong Ts’in, the rich porcelain maker, was ill at ease within himself.
He had partaken of his customary midday meal, flavoured the repast by
unsealing a jar of matured wine, consumed a little fruit, a few
sweetmeats and half a dozen cups of unapproachable tea, and then
retired to an inner chamber to contemplate philosophically from the
reposeful attitude of a reclining couch.
But upon this occasion the merchant did not contemplate restfully. He
paced the floor in deep dejection and when he did use the couch at all
it was to roll upon it in a sudden access of internal pain. The cause
of his distress was well known to the unhappy person thus concerned,
nor did it lessen the pangs of his emotion that it arose entirely from
his own ill-considered action.
When Wong Ts’in had discovered, by the side of a remote and obscure
river, the inexhaustible bed of porcelain clay that ensured his
prosperity, his first care was to erect adequate sheds and
labouring-places; his next to build a house sufficient for himself and
those in attendance round about him.
So far prudence had ruled his actions, for there is a keen edge to the
saying: “He who sleeps over his workshop brings four eyes into the
business,” but in one detail Wong Ts’in’s head and feet went on
different journeys, for with incredible oversight he omitted to secure
the experience of competent astrologers and omen-casters in fixing the
exact site of his mansion.
The result was what might have been expected. In excavating for the
foundations, Wong Ts’in’s slaves disturbed the repose of a small but
rapacious earth-demon that had already been sleeping there for nine
hundred and ninety-nine years. With the insatiable cunning of its
kind, this vindictive creature waited until the house was completed
and then proceeded to transfer its unseen but formidable presence to
the quarters that were designed for Wong Ts’in himself. Thenceforth,
from time to time, it continued to revenge itself for the trouble to
which it had been put by an insidious persecution. This frequently
took the form of fastening its claws upon the merchant’s digestive
organs, especially after he had partaken of an unusually rich repast
(for in some way the display of certain viands excited its unreasoning
animosity), pressing heavily upon his chest, invading his repose with
dragon-dreams while he slept, and the like. Only by the exercise of an
ingenuity greater than its own could Wong Ts’in succeed in baffling
its ill-conditioned spite.
On this occasion, recognizing from the nature of his pangs what was
taking place, Wong Ts’in resorted to a stratagem that rarely failed
him. Announcing in a loud voice that it was his intention to refresh
the surface of his body by the purifying action of heated vapour, and
then to proceed to his mixing-floor, the merchant withdrew. The demon,
being an earth-dweller with the ineradicable objection of this class
of creatures towards all the elements of moisture, at once
relinquished its hold, and going direct to the part of the works
indicated, it there awaited its victim with the design of resuming its
discreditable persecution.
Wong Ts’in had spoken with a double tongue. On leaving the inner
chamber he quickly traversed certain obscure passages of his house
until he reached an inferior portal. Even if the demon had suspected
his purpose it would not have occurred to a creature of its narrow
outlook that anyone of Wong Ts’in’s importance would make use of so
menial an outway. The merchant therefore reached his garden
unperceived and thenceforward maintained an undeviating face in the
direction of the Outer Expanses. Before he had covered many li he was
assured that he had indeed succeeded for the time in shaking off his
unscrupulous tormentor. His internal organs again resumed their
habitual calm and his mind was lightened as from an overhanging cloud.
There was another reason why Wong Ts’in sought the solitude of the
thinly-peopled outer places, away from the influence and distraction
of his own estate. For some time past a problem that had once been
remote was assuming dimensions of increasing urgency. This detail
concerns Fa Fai, who had already been referred to by a person of
literary distinction, in a poetical analogy occupying three written
volumes, as a pearl-tinted peach-blossom shielded and restrained by
the silken net-work of wise parental affection (and recognizing the
justice of the comparison, Wong Ts’in had been induced to purchase the
work in question). Now that Fa Fai had attained an age when she could
fittingly be sought in marriage the contingency might occur at any
time, and the problem confronting her father’s decision was this:
owing to her incomparable perfection Fa Fai must be accounted one of
Wong Ts’in’s chief possessions, the other undoubtedly being his secret
process of simulating the lustrous effect of pure gold embellishment
on china by the application of a much less expensive substitute. Would
it be more prudent to concentrate the power of both influences and let
it become known that with Fa Fai would go the essential part of his
very remunerative clay enterprise, or would it be more prudent to
divide these attractions and secure two distinct influences, both
concerned about his welfare? In the first case there need be no
reasonable limit to the extending vista of his ambition, and he might
even aspire to greet as a son the highest functionary of the
province--an official of such heavily-sustained importance that when
he went about it required six chosen slaves to carry him, and of late
it had been considered more prudent to employ eight.
If, on the other hand, Fa Fai went without any added inducement, a
mandarin of moderate rank would probably be as high as Wong Ts’in
could look, but he would certainly be able to adopt another of at
least equal position, at the price of making over to him the ultimate
benefit of his discovery. He could thus acquire either two sons of
reasonable influence, or one who exercised almost unlimited authority.
In view of his own childlessness, and of his final dependence on the
services of others, which arrangement promised the most regular and
liberal transmission of supplies to his expectant spirit when he had
passed into the Upper Air, and would his connection with one very
important official or with two subordinate ones secure him the greater
amount of honour and serviceable recognition among the more useful
deities?
To Wong Ts’in’s logical mind it seemed as though there must be a
definite answer to this problem. If one manner of behaving was right
the other must prove wrong, for as the wise philosopher Ning-hy was
wont to say: “Where the road divides, there stand two Ning-hys.” The
decision on a matter so essential to his future comfort ought not to
be left to chance. Thus it had become a habit of Wong Ts’in’s to
penetrate the Outer Spaces in the hope of there encountering a
specific omen.
Alas, it has been well written: “He who thinks that he is raising a
mound may only in reality be digging a pit.” In his continual search
for a celestial portent among the solitudes Wong Ts’in had of late
necessarily somewhat neglected his earthly (as it may thus be
expressed) interests. In these emergencies certain of the more
turbulent among his workers had banded themselves together into a
confederacy under the leadership of a craftsman named Fang. It was the
custom of these men, who wore a badge and recognized a mutual oath and
imprecation, to present themselves suddenly before Wong Ts’in and
demand a greater reward for their exertions than they had previously
agreed to, threatening that unless this was accorded they would cast
down the implements of their labour in unison and involve in idleness
those who otherwise would have continued at their task. This menace
Wong Ts’in bought off from time to time by agreeing to their
exactions, but it began presently to appear that this way of appeasing
them resembled Chou Hong’s method of extinguishing a fire by directing
jets of wind against it. On the day with which this related story has
so far concerned itself, a band of the most highly remunerated and
privileged of the craftsmen had appeared before Wong Ts’in with the
intolerable Fang at their head. These men were they whose skill
enabled them laboriously to copy upon the surfaces of porcelain a
given scene without appreciable deviation from one to the other, for
in those remote cycles of history no other method was yet known or
even dreamed of.
“Suitable greetings, employer of our worthless services,” remarked
their leader, seating himself upon the floor unbidden. “These who
speak through the mouth of the cringing mendicant before you are the
Bound-together Brotherhood of Colour-mixers and Putters-on of
Thought-out Designs, bent upon a just cause.”
“May their Ancestral Tablets never fall into disrepair,” replied Wong
Ts’in courteously. “For the rest--let the mouth referred to shape
itself into the likeness of a narrow funnel, for the lengthening
gong-strokes press round about my unfinished labours.”
“That which in justice requires the amplitude of a full-sized cask
shall be pressed down into the confines of an inadequate vessel,”
assented Fang. “Know then, O battener upon our ill-requited skill, how
it has come to our knowledge that one who is not of our Brotherhood
moves among us and performs an equal task for a less reward. This is
our spoken word in consequence: in place of one tael every man among
us shall now take two, and he who before has laboured eight gongs to
receive it shall henceforth labour four. Furthermore, he who is
speaking shall, as their recognized head and authority, always be
addressed by the honourable title of ‘Polished,’ and the dog who is
not one of us shall be cast forth.”
“My hand itches to reward you in accordance with the inner prompting
of a full heart,” replied the merchant, after a well-sustained pause.
“But in this matter my very deficient ears must be leading my
threadbare mind astray. The moon has not been eaten up since the day
when you stood before me in a like attitude and bargained that every
man should henceforth receive a full tael where hitherto a half had
been his portion, and that in place of the toil of sixteen
gong-strokes eight should suffice. Upon this being granted all bound
themselves by spoken word that the matter should stand thus and thus
between us until the gathering-in of the next rice harvest.”
“That may have been so at the time,” admitted Fang, with dog-like
obstinacy, “but it was not then known that you had pledged yourself to
Hien Nan for tenscore embellished plates of porcelain within a stated
time, and that our services would therefore be essential to your
reputation. There has thus arisen what may be regarded as a new vista
of eventualities, and this frees us from the bondage of our spoken
word. Having thus moderately stated our unbending demand, we will
depart until the like gong-stroke of to-morrow, when, if our claim be
not agreed to, all will cast down their implements of labour with the
swiftness of a lightning-flash and thereby involve the whole of your
too-profitable undertaking in well-merited stagnation. We go,
venerable head; auspicious omens attend your movements!”
“May the All-Seeing guide your footsteps,” responded Wong Ts’in, and
with courteous forbearance he waited until they were out of hearing
before he added--“into a vat of boiling sulphur!”
Thus may the position be outlined when Wei Chang, the unassuming youth
whom the black-hearted Fang had branded with so degrading a
comparison, sat at his appointed place rather than join in the
discreditable conspiracy, and strove by his unaided dexterity to
enable Wong Ts’in to complete the tenscore embellished plates by the
appointed time. Yet already he knew that in this commendable ambition
his head grew larger than his hands, for he was the slowest-working
among all Wong Ts’in’s craftsmen, and even then his copy could
frequently be detected from the original. Not to overwhelm his memory
with unmerited contempt it is fitting now to reveal somewhat more of
the unfolding curtain of events.
Wei Chang was not in reality a worker in the art of applying coloured
designs to porcelain at all. He was a student of the literary
excellences and had decided to devote his entire life to the engaging
task of reducing the most perfectly matched analogy to the least
possible number of words when the unexpected appearance of Fa Fai
unsettled his ambitions. She was restraining the impatience of a
powerful horse and controlling its movements by means of a leather
thong, while at the same time she surveyed the landscape with a
disinterested glance in which Wei Chang found himself becoming
involved. Without stopping even to consult the spirits of his revered
ancestors on so important a decision, he at once burned the greater
part of his collection of classical analogies and engaged himself, as
one who is willing to become more proficient, about Wong Ts’in’s
earth-yards. Here, without any reasonable intention of ever becoming
in any way personally congenial to her, he was in a position
occasionally to see the distant outline of Fa Fai’s movements, and
when a day passed and even this was withheld he was content that the
shadow of the many-towered building that contained her should obscure
the sunlight from the window before which he worked.
While Wei Chang was thus engaged the door of the enclosure in which he
laboured was thrust cautiously inwards, and presently he became aware
that the being whose individuality was never completely absent from
his thoughts was standing in an expectant attitude at no great
distance from him. As no other person was present, the craftsmen
having departed in order to consult an oracle that dwelt beneath an
appropriate sign, and Wong Ts’in being by this time among the Outer
Ways seeking an omen as to Fa Fai’s disposal, Wei Chang did not think
it respectful to become aware of the maiden’s presence until a
persistent distress of her throat compelled him to recognize the
incident.
“Unapproachable perfection,” he said, with becoming deference, “is it
permissible that in the absence of your enlightened sire you should
descend from your golden eminence and stand, entirely unattended, at
no great distance from so ordinary a person as myself?”
“Whether it be strictly permissible or not, it is only on like
occasions that she ever has the opportunity of descending from the
solitary pinnacle referred to,” replied Fa Fai, not only with no
outward appearance of alarm at being directly addressed by one of a
different sex, but even moving nearer to Wei Chang as she spoke. “A
more essential detail in the circumstances concerns the length of time
that he may be prudently relied upon to be away?”
“Doubtless several gong-strokes will intervene before his returning
footsteps gladden our expectant vision,” replied Wei Chang. “He is
spoken of as having set his face towards the Outer Ways, there
perchance to come within the influence of a portent.”
“Its probable object is not altogether unknown to the one who stands
before you,” admitted Fa Fai, “and as a dutiful and affectionate
daughter it has become a consideration with her whether she ought not
to press forward, as it were, to a solution on her own account. . . .
If the one whom I am addressing could divert his attention from the
embellishment of the very inadequate claw of a wholly superfluous
winged dragon, possibly he might add his sage counsel on that point.”
“It is said that a bull-frog once rent his throat in a well-meant
endeavour to advise an eagle in the art of flying,” replied Wei Chang,
concealing the bitterness of his heart beneath an easy tongue. “For
this reason it is inexpedient for earthlings to fix their eyes on
those who dwell in very high places.”
“To the intrepid, very high places exist solely to be scaled; with
others, however, the only scaling they attempt is lavished on the
armour of preposterous flying monsters, O youth of the House of Wei!”
“Is it possible,” exclaimed Wei Chang, moving forward with so sudden
an ardour that the maiden hastily withdrew herself several paces from
beyond his enthusiasm, “is it possible that this person’s hitherto
obscure and execrated name is indeed known to your incomparable lips?”
“As the one who periodically casts up the computations of the sums of
money due to those who labour about the earth-yards, it would be
strange if the name had so far escaped my notice,” replied Fa Fai,
with a distance in her voice that the few paces between them very
inadequately represented. “Certain details engrave themselves upon the
tablets of recollection by their persistence. For instance, the name
of Fang is generally at the head of each list; that of Wei Chang is
invariably at the foot.”
“It is undeniable,” admitted Wei Chang, in a tone of well-merited
humiliation; “and the attainment of never having yet applied a design
in such a manner that the copy might be mistaken for the original has
entirely flattened-out this person’s self-esteem.”
“Doubtless,” suggested Fa Fai, with delicate encouragement, “there are
other pursuits in which you would disclose a more highly developed
proficiency--as that of watching the gyrations of untamed horses, for
example. Our more immediate need, however, is to discover a means of
defeating the malignity of the detestable Fang. With this object I
have for some time past secretly applied myself to the task of
contriving a design which, by blending simplicity with picturesque
effect, will enable one person in a given length of time to achieve
the amount of work hitherto done by two.”
With these auspicious words the accomplished maiden disclosed a plate
of translucent porcelain, embellished in the manner which she had
described. At the sight of the ingenious way in which trees and
persons, stream and buildings, and objects of a widely differing
nature had been so arranged as to give the impression that they all
existed at the same time, and were equally visible without undue
exertion on the part of the spectator who regarded them, Wei Chang
could not restrain an exclamation of delight.
“How cunningly imagined is the device by which objects so varied in
size as an orange and an island can be depicted within the narrow
compass of a porcelain plate without the larger one completely
obliterating the smaller or the smaller becoming actually invisible by
comparison with the other! Hitherto this unimaginative person had not
considered the possibility of showing other than dragons, demons,
spirits, and the forces which from their celestial nature may be
regarded as possessing no real thickness of substance and therefore
being particularly suitable for treatment on a flat surface. But this
engaging display might indeed be a scene having an actual existence at
no great space away.”
“Such is assuredly the case,” admitted Fa Fai. “Within certain
limitations, imposed by this new art of depicting realities as they
are, we may be regarded as standing before an open window. The
important-looking building on the right is that erected by this
person’s venerated father. Its prosperity is indicated by the
luxurious profusion of the fruit-tree overhanging it. Pressed somewhat
to the back, but of dignified proportion, are the outer buildings of
those who labour among the clay.”
“In a state of actuality, they are of measurably less dignified
dimensions,” suggested Wei Chang.
“The objection is inept,” replied Fa Fai. “The buildings in question
undoubtedly exist at the indicated position. If, therefore, the
actuality is to be maintained, it is necessary either to raise their
stature or to cut down the trees obscuring them. To this gentle-minded
person the former alternative seemed the less drastic. As, however, it
is regarded in a spirit of no-satisfaction--”
“Proceed, incomparable one, proceed,” implored Wei Chang. “It was but
a breath of thought, arising from a recollection of the many times
that this incapable person has struck his unworthy head against the
roof-beams of those nobly-proportioned buildings.”
“The three stunted individuals crossing the bridge in undignified
attitudes are the debased Fang and two of his mercenary accomplices.
They are, as usual, bending their footsteps in the direction of the
hospitality of a house that announces its purpose beneath the sign of
a spreading bush. They are positioned as crossing the river to a set
purpose, and the bridge is devoid of a rail in the hope that on their
return they may all fall into the torrent in a helpless condition and
be drowned, to the satisfaction of the beholders.”
“It would be a fitting conclusion to their ill-spent lives,” agreed
Wei Chang. “Would it not add to their indignity to depict them as
struggling beneath the waves?”
“It might do so,” admitted Fa Fai graciously, “but in order to express
the arisement adequately it would be necessary to display them
twice--first on the bridge with their faces turned towards the west,
and then in the flood with their faces towards the east; and the
superficial might hastily assume that the three on the bridge would
rescue the three in the river.”
“You are all-wise,” said Wei Chang, with well-marked admiration in his
voice. “This person’s suggestion was opaque.”
“In any case,” continued Fa Fai, with a reassuring glance, “it is a
detail that is not essential to the frustration of Fang’s malignant
scheme, for already well on its way towards Hien Nan may be seen a
trustworthy junk, laden with two formidable crates, each one
containing fivescore plates of the justly esteemed Wong Ts’in
porcelain.”
“Nevertheless,” maintained Wei Chang mildly, “the out-passing of Fang
would have been a satisfactory detail of the occurrence.”
“Do not despair,” replied Fa Fai. “Not idly is it written: ‘Destiny
has four feet, eight hands and sixteen eyes: how then shall the
ill-doer with only two of each hope to escape?’ An even more
ignominious end may await Fang, should he escape drowning, for,
conveniently placed by the side of the stream, this person has
introduced a spreading willow-tree. Any of its lower branches is
capable of sustaining Fang’s weight, should a reliable rope connect
the two.”
“There is something about that which this person now learns is a
willow that distinguishes it above all the other trees of the design,”
remarked Wei Chang admiringly. “It has a wild and yet a romantic
aspect.”
“This person had not yet chanced upon a suitable title for the
device,” said Fa Fai, “and a distinguishing name is necessary, for
possibly scores of copies may be made before its utility is exhausted.
Your discriminating praise shall be accepted as a fortunate omen, and
henceforth this shall be known as the Willow Pattern Embellishment.”
“The honour of suggesting the title is more than this commonplace
person can reasonably carry,” protested Wei Chang, feeling that very
little worth considering existed outside the earth-shed. “Not only
scores, but even hundreds of copies may be required in the process of
time, for a crust of rice-bread and handful of dried figs eaten from
such a plate would be more satisfying than a repast of many-coursed
richness elsewhere.”
In this well-sustained and painless manner Fa Fai and Wei Chang
continued to express themselves agreeably to each other, until the
lengthening gong-strokes warned the former person that her absence
might inconvenience Wong Ts’in’s sense of tranquillity on his return,
nor did Wei Chang contest the desirability of a great space
intervening between them should the merchant chance to pass that way.
In the meanwhile Chang had explained many of the inner details of his
craft so that Fa Fai should the better understand the requirements of
her new art.
“Yet where is the Willow plate itself?” said the maiden, as she began
to arrange her mind towards departure. “As the colours were still in a
receptive state this person placed it safely aside for the time. It
was somewhat near the spot where you--”
During the amiable exchange of shafts of polished conversation Wei
Chang had followed Fa Fai’s indication and had seated himself upon a
low bench without any very definite perception of his movements. He
now arose with the unstudied haste of one who has inconvenienced a
scorpion.
“Alas!” he exclaimed, in a tone of the acutest mental distress; “can
it be possible that this utterly profane outcast has so desecrated--”
“Certainly comment of an admittedly crushing nature has been imposed
on this one’s well-meant handiwork,” said Fa Fai. With these
lightly-barbed words, which were plainly devised to restore the other
person’s face towards himself, the magnanimous maiden examined the
plate which Wei Chang’s uprising had revealed.
“Not only has the embellishment suffered no real detriment,” she
continued, after an adequate glance, “but there has been imparted to
the higher lights--doubtless owing to the nature of the fabric in
which your lower half is encased--a certain nebulous quality that adds
greatly to the successful effect of the various tones.”
At the first perception of the indignity to which he had subjected the
entrancing Fa Fai’s work, and the swift feeling that much more than
the coloured adornment of a plate would thereby be destroyed, all
power of retention had forsaken Wei Chang’s incapable knees and he
sank down heavily upon another bench. From this dejection the maiden’s
well-chosen encouragement recalled him to a position of ordinary
uprightness.
“A tombstone is lifted from this person’s mind by your
gracefully-placed words,” he declared, and he was continuing to
indicate the nature of his self-reproach by means of a suitable
analogy when the expression of Fa Fai’s eyes turned him to a point
behind himself. There, lying on the spot from which he had just risen,
was a second Willow plate, differing in no detail of resemblance from
the first.
“Shadow of the Great Image!” exclaimed Chang, in an awe-filled voice.
“It is no marvel that miracles should attend your footsteps, celestial
one, but it is incredible that this clay-souled person should be
involved in the display.”
“Yet,” declared Fa Fai, not hesitating to allude to things as they
existed, in the highly-raised stress of the discovery, “it would
appear that the miracle is not specifically connected with this
person’s feet. Would you not, in furtherance of this line of
suggestion, place yourself in a similar attitude on yet another plate,
Wei Chang?”
Not without many protests that it was scarcely becoming thus to sit
repeatedly in her presence, Chang complied with the request, and upon
Fa Fai’s further insistence he continued to impress himself, as it
were, upon a succession of porcelain plates, with a like result. Not
until the eleventh process was reached did the Willow design begin to
lose its potency.
“Ten perfect copies produced within as many moments, and not one
distinguishable from the first!” exclaimed Wei Chang, regarding the
array of plates with pleasurable emotion. “Here is a means of baffling
Fang’s crafty confederacy that will fill Wong Ts’in’s ears with waves
of gladness on his return.”
“Doubtless,” agreed Fa Fai, with a dark intent. She was standing by
the door of the enclosure in the process of making her departure, and
she regarded Wei Chang with a set deliberation. “Yet,” she continued
definitely, “if this person possessed that which was essential to Wong
Ts’in’s prosperity, and Wong Ts’in held that which was necessary for
this one’s tranquillity, a locked bolt would be upon the one until the
other was pledged in return.”
With these opportune words the maiden vanished, leaving Wei Chang
prostrating himself in spirit before the many-sidedness of her wisdom.
Wong Ts’in was not altogether benevolently inclined towards the
universe on his return a little later. The persistent image of Fang’s
overthreatening act still corroded the merchant’s throat with
bitterness, for on his right he saw the extinction of his business as
unremunerative if he agreed, and on his left he saw the extinction of
his business as undependable if he refused to agree.
Furthermore, the omens were ill-arranged.
On his way outwards he had encountered an aged man who possessed two
fruit-trees, on which he relied for sustenance. As Wong Ts’in drew
near, this venerable person carried from his dwelling two beaten cakes
of dog-dung and began to bury them about the root of the larger tree.
This action, on the part of one who might easily be a disguised
wizard, aroused Wong Ts’in’s interest.
“Why,” he demanded, “having two cakes of dung and two fruit-trees, do
you not allot one to each tree, so that both may benefit and return to
you their produce in the time of your necessity?”
“The season promises to be one of rigour and great need,” replied the
other. “A single cake of dung might not provide sufficient nourishment
for either tree, so that both should wither away. By reducing life to
a bare necessity I could pass from one harvest to another on the fruit
of this tree alone, but if both should fail I am undone. To this end I
safeguard my existence by ensuring that at least the better of the two
shall thrive.”
“Peace attend your efforts!” said Wong Ts’in, and he began to retrace
his footsteps, well content.
Yet he had not covered half the distance back when his progress was
impeded by an elderly hag who fed two goats, whose milk alone
preserved her from starvation. One small measure of dry grass was all
that she was able to provide them with, but she divided it equally
between them, to the discontent of both.
“The season promises to be one of rigour and great need,” remarked
Wong Ts’in affably, for the being before him might well be a creature
of another part who had assumed that form for his guidance. “Why do
you not therefore ensure sustenance to the better of the two goats by
devoting to it the whole of the measure of dry grass? In this way you
would receive at least some nourishment in return and thereby
safeguard your own existence until the rice is grown again.”
“In the matter of the two goats,” replied the aged hag, “there is no
better, both being equally stubborn and perverse, though one may be
finer-looking and more vainglorious than the other. Yet should I
foster this one to the detriment of her fellow, what would be this
person’s plight if haply the weaker died and the stronger broke away
and fled! By treating both alike I retain a double thread on life,
even if neither is capable of much.”
“May the Unseen weigh your labours!” exclaimed Wong Ts’in in a
two-edged voice, and he departed.
When he reached his own house he would have closed himself in his own
chamber with himself had not Wei Chang persisted that he sought his
master’s inner ear with a heavy project. This interruption did not
please Wong Ts’in, for he had begun to recognize the day as being
unlucky, yet Chang succeeded by a device in reaching his side, bearing
in his hands a guarded burden.
Though no written record of this memorable interview exists, it is now
generally admitted that Wei Chang either involved himself in an
unbearably attenuated caution before he would reveal his errand, or
else that he made a definite allusion to Fa Fai with a too sudden
conciseness, for the slaves who stood without heard Wong Ts’in clear
his voice of all restraint and express himself freely on a variety of
subjects. But this gave place to a subdued murmur, ending with the
ceremonial breaking of a plate, and later Wong Ts’in beat on a silver
bell and called for wine and fruit.
The next day Fang presented himself a few gong-strokes later than the
appointed time, and being met by an unbending word he withdrew the
labour of those whom he controlled. Thenceforth these men, providing
themselves with knives and axes, surrounded the gate of the
earth-yards and by the pacific argument of their attitudes succeeded
in persuading others who would willingly have continued at their task
that the air of Wong Ts’in’s sheds was not congenial to their health.
Towards Wei Chang, whose efforts they despised, they raised a cloud of
derision, and presently noticing that henceforth he invariably clad
himself in lower garments of a dark blue material (to a set purpose
that will be as crystal to the sagacious), they greeted his appearance
with cries of: “Behold the sombre one! Thou dark leg!” so that this
reproach continues to be hurled even to this day at those in a like
case, though few could answer why.
Long before the stipulated time the tenscore plates were delivered to
Hien Nan. So greatly were they esteemed, both on account of their
accuracy of unvarying detail and the ingenuity of their novel
embellishment, that orders for scores, hundreds and even thousands
began to arrive from all quarters of the Empire. The clay enterprise
of Wong Ts’in took upon itself an added lustre, and in order to deal
adequately with so vast an undertaking the grateful merchant adopted
Wei Chang and placed him upon an equal footing with himself. On the
same day Wong Ts’in honourably fulfilled his spoken word and the
marriage of Wei Chang and Fa Fai took place, accompanied by the most
lavish display of fireworks and coloured lights that the province had
ever seen. The controlling deities approved, and they had seven sons,
one of whom had seven fingers upon each hand. All these sons became
expert in Wei Chang’s process of transferring porcelain embellishment,
for some centuries elapsed before it was discovered that it was not
absolutely necessary to sit upon each plate to produce the desired
effect.
This chronicle of an event that is now regarded as almost classical
would not be complete without an added reference to the ultimate end
of the sordid Fang.
Fallen into disrepute among his fellows owing to the evil plight
towards which he had enticed them, it became his increasing purpose to
frequent the house beyond the river. On his return at nightfall he
invariably drew aside on reaching the bridge, well knowing that he
could not prudently rely upon his feet among so insecure a crossing,
and composed himself to sleep amid the rushes. While in this position
one night he was discovered and pushed into the river by a devout ox
(an instrument of high destinies), where he perished incapably.
Those who found his body, not being able to withdraw so formidable a
weight direct, cast a rope across the lower branch of a convenient
willow-tree and thus raised it to the shore. In this striking manner
Fa Fai’s definite opinion achieved a destined end.