The Propitious Dissension between Two whose General
Attributes have already been sufficiently Described
When Kai Lung had related the story of Chang Tao and had made an end
of speaking, those who were seated there agreed with an undivided
voice that he had competently fulfilled his task. Nor did Shan Tien
omit an approving word, adding:
“On one point the historical balance of a certain detail seemed open
to contention. Accompany me, therefore, to my own severe retreat,
where this necessarily flat and unentertaining topic can be looked at
from all round.”
When they were alone together the Mandarin unsealed a jar of wine,
apportioned melon seeds, and indicated to Kai Lung that he should sit
upon the floor at a suitable distance from himself.
“So long as we do not lose sight of the necessity whereby my official
position will presently involve me in condemning you to a painful
death, and your loyal subjection will necessitate your whole-hearted
co-operation in the act, there is no reason why the flower of literary
excellence should wither for lack of mutual husbandry,” remarked the
broad-minded official tolerantly.
“Your enlightened patronage is a continual nourishment to the soil of
my imagination,” replied the story teller.
“As regards the doings of Chang Tao and of the various other
personages who unite with him to form the fabric of the narrative,
would not a strict adherence to the fable in its classical simplicity
require the filling in of certain details which under your elusive
tongue seemed, as you proceeded, to melt imperceptibly into a discreet
background?”
“Your voice is just,” confessed Kai Lung, “and your harmonious ear
corrects the deficiencies of my afflicted style. Admittedly in the
story of Chang Tao there are here and there analogies which may be
fittingly left to the imagination as the occasion should demand. Is it
not rightly said: ‘Discretion is the handmaiden of Truth’? and in that
spacious and well-appointed palace there is every kind of vessel, but
the meaner are not to be seen in the more ceremonial halls. Thus he
who tells a story prudently suits his furnishing to the condition of
his hearers.”
“Wisdom directs your course,” replied Shan Tien, “and propriety sits
beneath your supple tongue. As the necessity for this very seemly
expurgation is now over, I would myself listen to your recital of the
fullest and most detailed version--purely, let it be freely stated, in
order to judge whether its literary qualities transcend those of the
other.”
“I comply, benevolence,” replied Kai Lung. “This rendering shall be to
the one that has gone before as a spreading banyan-tree overshadowing
an immature shrub.”
“Forbear!” exclaimed a discordant voice, and the sour-eyed Ming-shu
revealed his inopportune presence from behind a hanging veil. “Is it
meet, O eminence, that in this person’s absence you should thus
consort on terms of fraternity with tomb-riflers and grain-thieves?”
“The reproach is easily removed,” replied Shan Tien hospitably. “Join
the circle of our refined felicity and hear at full length by what
means the ingenious Chang Tao--”
“There are moments when one despairs before the spectacle of authority
thus displayed,” murmured Ming-shu, his throat thickening with
acrimony. “Understand, pre-eminence,” he continued more aloud, “that
not this one’s absence but your own presence is the distressing
feature, as being an obstacle in the path of that undeviating justice
in which our legal system is embedded. From the first moment of our
encountering it had been my well-intentioned purpose that loyal
confidence should be strengthened and rebellion cowed by submitting
this opportune but otherwise inoffensive stranger to a sordid and
degrading end. Yet how shall this beneficent example be attained if on
every occasion--”
“Your design is a worthy and enlightened one,” interposed the
Mandarin, with dignity. “What you have somewhat incapably overlooked,
Ming-shu, is the fact that I never greet this intelligent and
painstaking young man without reminding him of the imminence of his
fate and of his suitability for it.”
“Truth adorns your lips and accuracy anoints your palate,”
volunteered Kai Lung.
“Be this as the destinies permit, there is much that is circuitous in
the bending of events,” contended Ming-shu stubbornly. “Is it by
chance or through some hidden tricklage that occasion always finds Kai
Lung so adequately prepared?”
“It is, as the story of Chang Tao has this day justified, and as this
discriminating person has frequently maintained, that the one in
question has a story framed to meet the requirement of every
circumstance,” declared Shan Tien.
“Or that each requirement is subtly shaped to meet his preparation,”
retorted Ming-shu darkly. “Be that as it shall perchance ultimately
appear, it is undeniable that your admitted weaknesses--”
“Weaknesses!” exclaimed the astonished Mandarin, looking around the
room as though to discover in what crevice the unheard-of attributes
were hidden. “This person’s weaknesses? Can the sounding properties of
this ill-constructed roof thus pervert one word into the semblance of
another? If not, the bounds set to the admissible from the taker-down
of the spoken word, Ming-shu, do not in their most elastic moods
extend to calumny and distortion. . . . The one before you has no
weaknesses. . . . Doubtless before another moon has changed you will
impute to him actual faults!”
“Humility directs my gaze,” replied Ming-shu, with downcast eyes, and
he plainly recognized that his presumption had been too maintained.
“Yet,” he added, with polished irony, “there is a well-timed adage
that rises to the lips: ‘Do not despair; even Yuen Yan once cast a
missile at the Tablets!’”
“Truly,” agreed Shan Tien, with smooth concurrence, “the line is not
unknown to me. Who, however, was the one in question and under what
provocation did he so behave?”
“That is beyond the province of the saying,” replied Ming-shu. “Nor is
it known to my remembrance.”
“Then out of your own mouth a fitting test is set, which if Kai Lung
can agreeably perform will at once demonstrate a secret and a guilty
confederacy between you both. Proceed, O story-teller, to incriminate
Ming-shu together with yourself!”
“I proceed, High Excellence, but chiefly to the glorification of your
all-discerning mind,” replied Kai Lung.
The Story of Yuen Yan, of the Barber Chou-hu,
and His Wife Tsae-che
“Do not despair; even Yuen Yan once cast a missile at the Tablets,” is
a proverb of encouragement well worn throughout the Empire; but
although it is daily on the lips of some it is doubtful if a single
person could give an intelligent account of the Yuen Yan in question
beyond repeating the outside facts that he was of a humane and
consistent disposition and during the greater part of his life
possessed every desirable attribute of wealth, family and virtuous
esteem. If more closely questioned with reference to the specific
incident alluded to, these persons would not hesitate to assert that
the proverb was not to be understood in so superficial a sense,
protesting, with much indignation, that Yuen Yan was of too courteous
and lofty a nature to be guilty of so unseemly an action, and
contemptuously inquiring what possible reason one who enjoyed every
advantage in this world and every prospect of an unruffled felicity in
The Beyond could have for behaving in so outrageous a manner. This
explanation by no means satisfied the one who now narrates, and after
much research he has brought to light the forgotten story of Yuen
Yan’s early life, which may be thus related.
At the period with which this part of the narrative is concerned, Yuen
Yan dwelt with his mother in one of the least attractive of the arches
beneath the city wall. As a youth it had been his intention to take an
exceptionally high place in the public examinations, and, rising at
once to a position of responsible authority, to mark himself out for
continual promotion by the exercise of unfailing discretion and
indomitable zeal. Having saved his country in a moment of acute
national danger, he contemplated accepting a title of unique
distinction and retiring to his native province, where he would build
an adequate palace which he had already planned out down to the most
trivial detail. There he purposed spending the remainder of his life,
receiving frequent tokens of regard from the hand of the gratified
Emperor, marrying an accomplished and refined wife who would doubtless
be one of the princesses of the Imperial House, and conscientiously
regarding The Virtues throughout. The transition from this sumptuously
contrived residence to a damp arch in the city wall, and from the high
destiny indicated to the occupation of leading from place to place a
company of sightless mendicants, had been neither instantaneous nor
painless, but Yuen Yan had never for a moment wavered from the
enlightened maxims which he had adopted as his guiding principles, nor
did he suffer unending trials to lessen his reverence for The Virtues.
“Having set out with the full intention of becoming a wealthy
mandarin, it would have been a small achievement to have reached that
position with unshattered ideals,” he frequently remarked; “but having
thus set out it is a matter for more than ordinary congratulation to
have fallen to the position of leading a string of blind beggars about
the city and still to retain unimpaired the ingenuous beliefs and
aspirations of youth.”
“Doubtless,” replied his aged mother, whenever she chanced to overhear
this honourable reflection, “doubtless the foolish calf who innocently
puts his foot into the jelly finds a like consolation. This person,
however, would gladly exchange the most illimitable moral satisfaction
engendered by acute poverty for a few of the material comforts of a
sordid competence, nor would she hesitate to throw into the balance
all the aspirations and improving sayings to be found within the
Classics.”
“Esteemed mother,” protested Yan, “more than three thousand years ago
the royal philosopher Nin-hyo made the observation: ‘Better an
earth-lined cave from which the stars are visible than a golden pagoda
roofed over with iniquity,’ and the saying has stood the test of
time.”
“The remark would have carried a weightier conviction if the
broad-minded sovereign had himself first stood the test of lying for a
few years with enlarged joints and afflicted bones in the abode he so
prudently recommended for others,” replied his mother, and without
giving Yuen Yan any opportunity of bringing forward further proof of
their highly-favoured destiny she betook herself to her own straw at
the farthest end of the arch.
Up to this period of his life Yuen Yan’s innate reverence and courtesy
of manner had enabled him to maintain an impassive outlook in the face
of every discouragement, but now he was exposed to a fresh series of
trials in addition to the unsympathetic attitude which his mother
never failed to unroll before him. It has already been expressed that
Yuen Yan’s occupation and the manner by which he gained his livelihood
consisted in leading a number of blind mendicants about the streets of
the city and into the shops and dwelling-places of those who might
reasonably be willing to pay in order to be relieved of their
presence. In this profession Yan’s venerating and custom-regarding
nature compelled him to act as leaders of blind beggars had acted
throughout all historical times and far back into the dim recesses of
legendary epochs and this, in an era when the leisurely habits of the
past were falling into disuse, and when rivals and competitors were
springing up on all sides, tended almost daily to decrease the
proceeds of his labour and to sow an insidious doubt even in his
unquestioning mind.
In particular, among those whom Yan regarded most objectionably was
one named Ho. Although only recently arrived in the city from a
country beyond the Bitter Water, Ho was already known in every quarter
both to the merchants and stallkeepers, who trembled at his
approaching shadow, and to the competing mendicants who now counted
their cash with two fingers where they had before needed both hands.
This distressingly active person made no secret of his methods and
intention; for, upon his arrival, he plainly announced that his object
was to make the foundations of benevolence vibrate like the strings of
a many-toned lute, and he compared his general progress through the
haunts of the charitably disposed to the passage of a highly-charged
firework through an assembly of meditative turtles. He was usually
known, he added, as “the rapidly-moving person,” or “the one devoid of
outline,” and it soon became apparent that he was also quite destitute
of all dignified restraint. Selecting the place of commerce of some
wealthy merchant, Ho entered without hesitation and thrusting aside
the waiting customers he continued to strike the boards impatiently
until he gained the attention of the chief merchant himself.
“Honourable salutations,” he would say, “but do not entreat this
illiterate person to enter the inner room, for he cannot tarry to
discuss the movements of the planets or the sublime Emperor’s health.
Behold, for half-a-tael of silver you may purchase immunity from his
discreditable persistence for seven days; here is the acknowledgement
duly made out and attested. Let the payment be made in pieces of metal
and not in paper obligations.” Unless immediate compliance followed Ho
at once began noisily to cast down the articles of commerce, to roll
bodily upon the more fragile objects, to become demoniacally possessed
on the floor, and to resort to a variety of expedients until all the
customers were driven forth in panic.
In the case of an excessively stubborn merchant he had not hesitated
to draw a formidable knife and to gash himself in a superficial but
very imposing manner; then he had rushed out uttering cries of terror,
and sinking down by the door had remained there for the greater part
of the day, warning those who would have entered to be upon their
guard against being enticed in and murdered, at the same time groaning
aloud and displaying his own wounds. Even this seeming disregard of
time was well considered, for when the tidings spread about the city
other merchants did not wait for Ho to enter and greet them, but
standing at their doors money in hand they pressed it upon him the
moment he appeared and besought him to remove his distinguished
presence from their plague-infected street. To the ordinary mendicants
of the city this stress of competition was disastrous, but to Yuen Yan
it was overwhelming. Thoroughly imbued with the deferential systems of
antiquity, he led his band from place to place with a fitting regard
for the requirements of ceremonial etiquette and a due observance of
leisurely unconcern. Those to whom he addressed himself he approached
with obsequious tact, and in the face of refusal to contribute to his
store his most violent expedient did not go beyond marshalling his
company of suppliants in an orderly group upon the shop floor, where
they sang in unison a composed chant extolling the fruits of
munificence and setting forth the evil plight which would certainly
attend the flinty-stomached in the Upper Air. In this way Yuen Yan had
been content to devote several hours to a single shop in the hope of
receiving finally a few pieces of brass money; but now his
persecutions were so mild that the merchants and vendors rather
welcomed him by comparison with the intolerable Ho, and would on no
account pay to be relieved of the infliction of his presence. “Have we
not disbursed in one day to the piratical Ho thrice the sum which we
had set by to serve its purpose for a hand-count of moons; and do we
possess the Great Secret?” they cried. “Nevertheless, dispose your
engaging band of mendicants about the place freely until it suits your
refined convenience to proceed elsewhere, O meritorious Yuen Yan, for
your unassuming qualities have won our consistent regard; but an
insatiable sponge has already been laid upon the well-spring of our
benevolence and the tenacity of our closed hand is inflexible.”
Even the passive mendicants began to murmur against his leadership,
urging him that he should adopt some of the simpler methods of the
gifted Ho and thereby save them all from an otherwise inevitable
starvation. The Emperor Kai-tsing, said the one who led their voices
(referring in his malignant bitterness to a sovereign of the previous
dynasty), was dead, although the fact had doubtless escaped Yuen Yan’s
deliberate perception. The methods of four thousand years ago were
becoming obsolete in the face of a strenuous competition, and unless
Yuen Yan was disposed to assume a more highly-coiled appearance they
must certainly address themselves to another leader.
It was on this occasion that the incident took place which has passed
down in the form of an inspiriting proverb. Yuen Yan had
conscientiously delivered at the door of his abode the last of his
company and was turning his footsteps towards his own arch when he
encountered the contumelious Ho, who was likewise returning at the
close of a day’s mendicancy--but with this distinction: that, whereas
Ho was followed by two stalwart attendants carrying between them a
sack full of money, Yan’s share of his band’s enterprise consisted
solely of one base coin of a kind which the charitable set aside for
bestowing upon the blind and quite useless for all ordinary purposes
of exchange. A few paces farther on Yan reached the Temple of the
Unseen Forces and paused for a moment, as his custom was, to cast his
eyes up to the tablets engraved with The Virtues, before which some
devout person nightly hung a lantern. Goaded by a sudden impulse, Yan
looked each way about the deserted street, and perceiving that he was
alone he deliberately extended his out-thrust tongue towards the
inspired precepts. Then taking from an inner sleeve the base coin he
flung it at the inscribed characters and observed with satisfaction
that it struck the verse beginning, “The Rewards of a Quiescent and
Mentally-introspective Life are Unbounded--”
When Yan entered his arch some hours later his mother could not fail
to perceive that a subtle change had come over his manner of behaving.
Much of the leisurely dignity had melted out of his footsteps, and he
wore his hat and outer garments at an angle which plainly testified
that he was a person who might be supposed to have a marked objection
to returning home before the early hours of the morning. Furthermore,
as he entered he was chanting certain melodious words by which he
endeavoured to convey the misleading impression that his chief
amusement consisted in defying the official watchers of the town, and
he continually reiterated a claim to be regarded as “one of the
beardless goats.” Thus expressing himself, Yan sank down in his
appointed corner and would doubtlessly soon have been floating
peacefully in the Middle Distance had not the door been again thrown
open and a stranger named Chou-hu entered.
“Prosperity!” said Chou-hu courteously, addressing himself to Yan’s
mother. “Have you eaten your rice? Behold, I come to lay before you a
very attractive proposal regarding your son.”
“The flower attracts the bee, but when he departs it is to his lips
that the honey clings,” replied the woman cautiously; for after Yan’s
boastful words on entering she had a fear lest haply this person might
be one on behalf of some guardian of the night whom her son had flung
across the street (as he had specifically declared his habitual
treatment of them to be) come to take him by stratagem.
“Does the pacific lamb become a wolf by night?” said Chou-hu,
displaying himself reassuringly. “Wrap your ears well round my words,
for they may prove very remunerative. It cannot be a matter outside
your knowledge that the profession of conducting an assembly of blind
mendicants from place to place no longer yields the wage of even a
frugal existence in this city. In the future, for all the sympathy
that he will arouse, Yan might as well go begging with a silver bowl.
In consequence of his speechless condition he will be unable to
support either you or himself by any other form of labour, and your
line will thereupon become extinct and your standing in the Upper Air
be rendered intolerable.”
“It is a remote contingency, but, as the proverb says, ‘The wise hen
is never too old to dread the Spring,’” replied Yan’s mother, with
commendable prudence. “By what means, then, may this calamity be
averted?”
“The person before you,” continued Chou-hu, “is a barber and
embellisher of pig-tails from the street leading to the Three-tiered
Pagoda of Eggs. He has long observed the restraint and moderation of
Yan’s demeanour and now being in need of one to assist him his
earliest thought turns to him. The affliction which would be an
insuperable barrier in all ordinary cases may here be used to
advantage, for being unable to converse with those seated before him,
or to hear their salutations, Yan will be absolved from the necessity
of engaging in diffuse and refined conversation, and in consequence he
will submit at least twice the number of persons to his dexterous
energies. In that way he will secure a higher reward than this person
could otherwise afford and many additional comforts will doubtless
fall into the sleeve of his engaging mother.”
At this point the woman began to understand that the sense in which
Chou-hu had referred to Yan’s speechless condition was not that which
she had at the time deemed it to be. It may here be made clear that it
was Yuen Yan’s custom to wear suspended about his neck an inscribed
board bearing the words, “Speechless, and devoid of the faculty of
hearing,” but this originated out of his courteous and deferential
nature (for to his self-obliterative mind it did not seem respectful
that he should appear to be better endowed than those whom he led),
nor could it be asserted that he wilfully deceived even the passing
stranger, for he would freely enter into conversation with anyone whom
he encountered. Nevertheless an impression had thus been formed in
Chou-hu’s mind and the woman forbore to correct it, thinking that it
would be scarcely polite to assert herself better informed on any
subject than he was, especially as he had spoken of Yan thereby
receiving a higher wage. Yan himself would certainly have revealed
something had he not been otherwise employed. Hearing the conversation
turn towards his afflictions, he at once began to search very
industriously among the straw upon which he lay for the inscribed
board in question; for to his somewhat confused imagination it seemed
at the time that only by displaying it openly could he prove to
Chou-hu that he was in no way deficient. As the board was found on the
following morning nailed to the great outer door of the Hall of Public
Justice (where it remained for many days owing to the official
impression that so bold and undeniable a pronouncement must have
received the direct authority of the sublime Emperor), Yan was not
unnaturally engaged for a considerable time, and in the meanwhile his
mother contrived to impress upon him by an unmistakable sign that he
should reveal nothing, but leave the matter in her hands.
Then said Yan’s mother: “Truly the proposal is not altogether wanting
in alluring colours, but in what manner will Yan interpret the
commands of those who place themselves before him, when he has
attained sufficient proficiency to be entrusted with the knife and the
shearing irons?”
“The objection is a superficial one,” replied Chou-hu. “When a person
seats himself upon the operating stool he either throws back his head,
fixing his eyes upon the upper room with a set and resolute air, or
inclines it slightly forward as in a reverent tranquillity. In the
former case he requires his uneven surfaces to be made smooth; in the
latter he is desirous that his pig-tail should be drawn out and
trimmed. Do not doubt Yan’s capability to conduct himself in a
discreet and becoming manner, but communicate to him, by the usual
means which you adopt, the offer thus laid out, and unless he should
be incredibly obtuse or unfilial to a criminal degree he will present
himself at the Sign of the Gilt Thunderbolt at an early hour
to-morrow.”
There is a prudent caution expressed in the proverb, “The hand that
feeds the ox grasps the knife when it is fattened: crawl backwards
from the presence of a munificent official.” Chou-hu, in spite of his
plausible pretext, would have experienced no difficulty in obtaining
the services of one better equipped to assist him than was Yuen Yan,
so that in order to discover his real object it becomes necessary to
look underneath his words. He was indeed, as he had stated, a barber
and an embellisher of pig-tails, and for many years he had grown rich
and round-bodied on the reputation of being one of the most skilful
within his quarter of the city. In an evil moment, however, he had
abandoned the moderation of his past life and surrounded himself with
an atmosphere of opium smoke and existed continually in the
mind-dimming effects of rice-spirit. From this cause his custom began
to languish; his hand no longer swept in the graceful and unhesitating
curves which had once been the admiration of all beholders, but
displayed on the contrary a very disconcerting irregularity of
movement, and on the day of his visit he had shorn away the venerable
moustaches of the baker Heng-cho under a mistaken impression as to the
reality of things and a wavering vision of their exact position. Now
the baker had been inordinately proud of his long white moustaches and
valued them above all his possessions, so that, invoking the spirits
of his ancestors to behold his degradation and to support him in his
resolve, and calling in all the passers-by to bear witness to his
oath, he had solemnly bound himself either to cut down Chou-hu
fatally, or, should that prove too difficult an accomplishment, to
commit suicide within his shop. This twofold danger thoroughly
stupefied Chou-hu and made him incapable of taking any action beyond
consuming further and more unstinted portions of rice-spirit and
rending article after article of his apparel until his wife Tsae-che
modestly dismissed such persons as loitered, and barred the outer
door.
“Open your eyes upon the facts by which you are surrounded, O
contemptible Chou-hu,” she said, returning to his side and standing
over him. “Already your degraded instincts have brought us within
measurable distance of poverty, and if you neglect your business to
avoid Heng-cho, actual want will soon beset us. If you remain openly
within his sight you will certainly be removed forcibly to the Upper
Air, leaving this inoffensive person destitute and abandoned, and if
by the exercise of unfailing vigilance you escape both these dangers,
you will be reserved to an even worse plight, for Heng-cho in
desperation will inevitably carry out the latter part of his threat,
dedicating his spirit to the duty of continually haunting you and
frustrating your ambitions here on earth and calling to his assistance
myriads of ancestors and relations to torment you in the Upper Air.”
“How attractively and in what brilliantly-coloured outlines do you
present the various facts of existence!” exclaimed Chou-hu, with
inelegant resentment. “Do not neglect to add that, to-morrow being the
occasion of the Moon Festival, the inexorable person who owns this
residence will present himself to collect his dues, that, in
consequence of the rebellion in the south, the sagacious viceroy has
doubled the price of opium, that some irredeemable outcast has carried
away this person’s blue silk umbrella, and then doubtless the alluring
picture of internal felicity around the Ancestral Altar of the Gilt
Thunderbolt will be complete.”
“Light words are easily spoken behind barred doors,” said his wife
scornfully. “Let my lord, then, recline indolently upon the floor of
his inner chamber while this person sumptuously lulls him into
oblivion with the music of her voice, regardless of the morrow and of
the fate in which his apathy involves us both.”
“By no means!” exclaimed Chou-hu, rising hastily and tearing away much
of his elaborately arranged pigtail in his uncontrollable rage; “there
is yet a more pleasurable alternative than that and one which will
ensure to this person a period of otherwise unattainable domestic calm
and at the same time involve a detestable enemy in confusion.
Anticipating the dull-witted Heng-cho _this_ one will now proceed
across the street and, committing suicide within _his_ door, will
henceforth enjoy the honourable satisfaction of haunting _his_
footsteps and rending his bakehouses and ovens untenable.” With this
assurance Chou-hu seized one of his most formidable business weapons
and caused it to revolve around his head with great rapidity, but at
the same time with extreme carefulness.
“There is a ready saying: ‘The new-born lamb does not fear a tiger,
but before he becomes a sheep he will flee from a wolf,’” said
Tsae-che without in any way deeming it necessary to arrest Chou-hu’s
hand. “Full confidently will you set out, O Chou-hu, but to reach the
shop of Heng-cho it is necessary to pass the stall of the dealer in
abandoned articles, and next to it are enticingly spread out the wares
of Kong, the merchant in distilled spirits. Put aside your reliable
scraping iron while you still have it, and this not ill-disposed
person will lay before you a plan by which you may even yet avoid all
inconveniences and at the same time regain your failing commerce.”
“It is also said: ‘The advice of a wise woman will ruin a walled
city,’” replied Chou-hu, somewhat annoyed at his wife so opportunely
comparing him to a sheep, but still more concerned to hear by what
possible expedient she could successfully avert all the contending
dangers of his position. “Nevertheless, proceed.”
“In one of the least reputable quarters of the city there dwells a
person called Yuen Yan,” said the woman. “He is the leader of a band
of sightless mendicants and in this position he has frequently passed
your open door, though--probably being warned by the benevolent--he
has never yet entered. Now this Yuen Yan, save for one or two
unimportant details, is the reflected personification of your own
exalted image, nor would those most intimate with your form and
outline be able to pronounce definitely unless you stood side by side
before them. Furthermore, he is by nature unable to hear any remark
addressed to him, and is incapable of expressing himself in spoken
words. Doubtless by these indications my lord’s locust-like
intelligence will already have leapt to an inspired understanding of
the full project?”
“Assuredly,” replied Chou-hu, caressing himself approvingly. “The
essential details of the scheme are built about the ease with which
this person could present himself at the abode of Yuen Yan in his
absence and, gathering together that one’s store of wealth
unquestioned, retire with it to a distant and unknown spot and thereby
elude the implacable Heng-cho’s vengeance.”
“Leaving your menial one in the ‘walled city’ referred to, to share
its fate, and, in particular, to undertake the distressing obligation
of gathering up the atrocious Heng-cho after he has carried his final
threat into effect? Truly must the crystal stream of your usually
undimmed intelligence have become vaporized. Listen well. Disguising
your external features slightly so that the resemblance may pass
without remark, present yourself openly at the residence of the Yuen
Yan in question--”
“First learning where it is situated?” interposed Chou-hu, with a
desire to grasp the details competently.
“Unless a person of your retrospective taste would prefer to leave so
trivial a point until afterwards,” replied his wife in a tone of
concentrated no-sincerity. “In either case, however, having arrived
there, bargain with the one who has authority over Yuen Yan’s
movements, praising his demeanour and offering to accept him into the
honours and profits of your craft. The words of acquiescence should
spring to meet your own, for the various branches of mendicancy are
languishing, and Yuen Yan can have no secret store of wealth. Do not
hesitate to offer a higher wage than you would as an affair of
ordinary commerce, for your safety depends upon it. Having secured
Yan, teach him quickly the unpolished outlines of your business and
then clothing him in robes similar to your own let him take his stand
within the shop and withdraw yourself to the inner chamber. None will
suspect the artifice, and Yuen Yan is manifestly incapable of
betraying it. Heng-cho, seeing him display himself openly, will not
deem it necessary to commit suicide yet, and, should he cut down Yan
fatally, the officials of the street will seize him and your own
safety will be assured. Finally, if nothing particular happens, at
least your prosperity will be increased, for Yuen Yan will prove
_industrious_, _frugal_, _not addicted to excesses_ and in every way
_reliable_, and towards the shop of so exceptional a barber customers
will turn in an unending stream.”
“Alas!” exclaimed Chou-hu, “when you boasted of an inspired scheme
this person for a moment foolishly allowed his mind to contemplate the
possibility of your having accidentally stumbled upon such an
expedient haply, but your suggestion is only comparable with a company
of ducks attempting to cross an ice-bound stream--an excessive outlay
of action but no beneficial progress. Should Yuen Yan freely present
himself here on the morrow, pleading destitution and craving to be
employed, this person will consider the petition with an open head,
but it is beneath his dignity to wait upon so low-class an object.”
Affecting to recollect an arranged meeting of some importance, Chou-hu
then clad himself in other robes, altered the appearance of his face,
and set out to act in the manner already described, confident that the
exact happening would never reach his lesser one’s ears.
On the following day Yuen Yan presented himself at the door of the
Gilt Thunderbolt, and quickly perfecting himself in the simpler
methods of smoothing surfaces and adorning pig-tails he took his stand
within the shop and operated upon all who came to submit themselves to
his embellishment. To those who addressed him with salutations he
replied by a gesture, tactfully bestowing an agreeable welcome yet at
the same time conveying the impression that he was desirous of
remaining undisturbed in the philosophical reflection upon which he
was engaged. In spite of this it was impossible to lead his mind
astray from any weighty detail, and those who, presuming upon his
absorbed attitude, endeavoured to evade a just payment on any pretext
whatever invariably found themselves firmly but courteously pressed to
the wall by the neck, while a highly polished smoothing blade was
flashed to and fro before their eyes with an action of unmistakable
significance. The number of customers increased almost daily, for Yan
quickly proved himself to be expert above all comparison, while others
came from every quarter of the city to test with their own eyes and
ears the report that had reached them, to the effect that in the
street leading to the Three-tiered Pagoda of Eggs there dwelt a barber
who made no pretence of elegant and refined conversation and who did
not even press upon those lying helpless in his power miraculous
ointments and infallible charm-waters. Thus Chou-hu prospered greatly,
but Yan still obeyed his mother’s warning and raised a mask before his
face so that Chou-hu and his wife never doubted the reality of his
infirmities. From this cause they did not refrain from conversing
together freely before him on subjects of the most poignant detail,
whereby Yan learned much of their past lives and conduct while
maintaining an attitude of impassive unconcern.
Upon a certain evening in the month when the grass-blades are
transformed into silk-worms Yan was alone in the shop, improving the
edge and reflecting brilliance of some of his implements, when he heard
the woman exclaim from the inner room: “Truly the air from the desert
is as hot and devoid of relief as the breath of the Great Dragon. Let
us repose for the time in the outer chamber.” Whereupon they entered
the shop and seating themselves upon a couch resumed their
occupations, the barber fanning himself while he smoked, his wife
gumming her hair and coiling it into the semblance of a bird with
outstretched wings.
“The necessity for the elaborate caution of the past no longer
exists,” remarked Chou-hu presently. “The baker Heng-cho is desirous
of becoming one of those who select the paving-stones and regulate the
number of hanging lanterns for the district lying around the
Three-tiered Pagoda. In this ambition he is opposed by Kong, the
distilled-spirit vendor, who claims to be a more competent judge of
paving-stones and hanging lanterns and one who will exercise a
lynx-eyed vigilance upon the public outlay and especially devote
himself to curbing the avarice of those bread-makers who habitually
mix powdered white earth with their flour. Heng-cho is therefore very
concerned that many should bear honourable testimony of his engaging
qualities when the day of trial arrives, and thus positioned he has
inscribed and sent to this person a written message offering a
dignified reconciliation and adding that he is convinced of the
necessity of an enactment compelling all persons to wear a smooth face
and a neatly braided pig-tail.”
“It is a creditable solution of the matter,” said Tsae-che, speaking
between the ivory pins which she held in her mouth. “Henceforth, then,
you will take up your accustomed stand as in the past?”
“Undoubtedly,” replied Chou-hu. “Yuen Yan is painstaking, and has
perhaps done as well as could be expected of one of his shallow
intellect, but the absence of suave and high-minded conversation
cannot fail to be alienating the custom of the more polished. Plainly
it is a short-sighted policy for a person to try and evade his destiny.
Yan seems to have been born for the express purpose of leading blind
beggars about the streets of the city and to that profession he must
return.”
“O distressingly superficial Chou-hu!” exclaimed his wife, “do men
turn willingly from wine to partake of vinegar, or having been clothed
in silk do they accept sackcloth without a struggle? Indeed, your
eyes, which are large to regard your own deeds and comforts, grow
small when they are turned towards the attainments of another. In no
case will Yan return to his mendicants, for his band is by this time
scattered and dispersed. His sleeve being now well lined and his hand
proficient in every detail of his craft, he will erect a stall,
perchance even directly opposite or next to ourselves, and by
subtlety, low charges and diligence he will draw away the greater part
of your custom.”
“Alas!” cried Chou-hu, turning an exceedingly inferior yellow, “there
is a deeper wisdom in the proverb, ‘Do not seek to escape from a flood
by clinging to a tiger’s tail,’ than appears at a casual glance. Now
that this person is contemplating gathering again into his own hands
the execution of his business, he cannot reasonably afford to employ
another, yet it is an intolerable thought that Yan should make use of
his experience to set up a sign opposed to the Gilt Thunderbolt.
Obviously the only really safe course out of an unpleasant dilemma
will be to slay Yan with as little delay as possible. After receiving
continuous marks of our approval for so long it is certainly very
thoughtless of him to put us to so unpardonable an inconvenience.”
“It is not an alluring alternative,” confessed Tsae-che, crossing the
room to where Yan was seated in order to survey her hair to greater
advantage in a hanging mirror of three sides composed of burnished
copper; “but there seems nothing else to be done in the difficult
circumstances.”
“The street is opportunely empty and there is little likelihood of
anyone approaching at this hour,” suggested Chou-hu. “What better
scheme could be devised than that I should indicate to Yan by signs
that I would honour him, and at the same time instruct him further in
the correct pose of some of the recognized attitudes, by making smooth
the surface of his face? Then during the operation I might perchance
slip upon an overripe whampee lying unperceived upon the floor; my
hand--”
“Ah-_ah_!” cried Tsae-che aloud, pressing her symmetrical fingers
against her gracefully-proportioned ears; “do not, thou dragon-headed
one, lead the conversation to such an extremity of detail, still less
carry the resolution into effect before the very eyes of this
delicately-susceptible person. Now to-morrow, after the midday meal,
she will be journeying as far as the street of the venders of woven
fabrics in order to procure a piece of silk similar to the pearl-grey
robe which she is wearing. The opportunity will be a favourable one,
for to-morrow is the weekly occasion on which you raise the shutters
and deny customers at an earlier hour; and it is really more modest
that one of my impressionable refinement should be away from the house
altogether and not merely in the inner chamber when that which is now
here passes out.”
“The suggestion is well timed,” replied Chou-hu. “No interruption will
then be possible.”
“Furthermore,” continued his wife, sprinkling upon her hair a perfumed
powder of gold which made it sparkle as it engaged the light at every
point with a most entrancing lustre, “would it not be desirable to use
a weapon less identified with your own hand? In the corner nearest to
Yan there stands a massive and heavily knotted club which could
afterwards be burned. It would be an easy matter to call the simple
Yan’s attention to some object upon the floor and then as he bent down
suffer him to Pass Beyond.”
“Assuredly,” agreed Chou-hu, at once perceiving the wisdom of the
change; “also, in that case, there would be less--”
“_Ah_!” again cried the woman, shaking her upraised finger reprovingly
at Chou-hu (for so daintily endowed was her mind that she shrank from
any of the grosser realities of the act unless they were clothed in
the very gilded flowers of speech). “Desist, O crimson-minded
barbarian! Let us now walk side by side along the river bank and drink
in the soul-stirring melody of the musicians who at this hour will be
making the spot doubly attractive with the concord of stringed woods
and instruments of brass struck with harmonious unison.”
The scheme for freeing Chou-hu from the embarrassment of Yan’s position
was not really badly arranged, nor would it have failed in most cases,
but the barber was not sufficiently broad-witted to see that many of
the inspired sayings which he used as arguments could be taken in
another light and conveyed a decisive warning to himself. A pleasantly
devised proverb has been aptly compared to a precious jewel, and as
the one has a hundred light-reflecting surfaces, so has the other a
diversity of applications, until it is not infrequently beyond the
comprehension of an ordinary person to know upon which side wisdom and
prudence lie. On the following afternoon Yan was seated in his
accustomed corner when Chou-hu entered the shop with uneven feet. The
barriers against the street had been raised and the outer door was
barred so that none might intrude, while Chou-hu had already carefully
examined the walls to ensure that no crevices remained unsealed. As he
entered he was seeking, somewhat incoherently, to justify himself by
assuring the deities that he had almost changed his mind until he
remembered the many impious acts on Yan’s part in the past, to avenge
which he felt himself to be their duly appointed instrument.
Furthermore, to convince them of the excellence of his motive (and
also to protect himself against the influence of evil spirits) he
advanced repeating the words of an invocation which in his youth he
had been accustomed to say daily in the temple, and thereupon Yan knew
that the moment was at hand.
“Behold, master!” he exclaimed suddenly, in clearly expressed words,
“something lies at your feet.”
Chou-hu looked down to the floor and lying before him was a piece of
silver. To his dull and confused faculties it sounded an inaccurate
detail of his pre-arranged plan that Yan should have addressed him,
and the remark itself seemed dimly to remind him of something that he
had intended to say, but he was too involved with himself to be able
to attach any logical significance to the facts and he at once stooped
greedily to possess the coin. Then Yan, who had an unfaltering grasp
upon the necessities of each passing second, sprang agilely forward,
swung the staff, and brought it so proficiently down upon Chou-hu’s
lowered head that the barber dropped lifeless to the ground and the
weapon itself was shattered by the blow. Without a pause Yan clothed
himself with his master’s robes and ornaments, wrapped his own garment
about Chou-hu instead, and opening a stone door let into the ground
rolled the body through so that it dropped down into the cave beneath.
He next altered the binding of his hair a little, cut his lips deeply
for a set purpose, and then reposing upon the couch of the inner
chamber he took up one of Chou-hu’s pipes and awaited Tsae-che’s
return.
“It is unendurable that they of the silk market should be so
ill-equipped,” remarked Tsae-che discontentedly as she entered. “This
pitiable one has worn away the heels of her sandals in a vain
endeavour to procure a suitable embroidery, and has turned over the
contents of every stall to no material end. How have the events of the
day progressed with you, my lord?”
“To the fulfilling of a written destiny. Yet in a measure darkly, for
a light has gone out,” replied Yuen Yan.
“There was no unanticipated divergence?” inquired the woman with
interest and a marked approval of this delicate way of expressing the
operation of an unpleasant necessity.
“From detail to detail it was as this person desired and contrived,”
said Yan.
“And, of a surety, this one also?” claimed Tsae-che, with an internal
emotion that something was insidiously changed in which she had no
adequate part.
“The language may be fully expressed in six styles of writing, but who
shall read the mind of a woman?” replied Yan evasively. “Nevertheless,
in explicit words, the overhanging shadow has departed and the future
is assured.”
“It is well,” said Tsae-che. “Yet how altered is your voice, and for
what reason do you hold a cloth before your mouth?”
“The staff broke and a splinter flying upwards pierced my lips,” said
Yan, lowering the cloth. “You speak truly, for the pain attending each
word is by no means slight, and scarcely can this person recognize his
own voice.”
“Oh, incomparable Chou-hu, how valiantly do you bear your sufferings!”
exclaimed Tsae-che remorsefully. “And while this heedless one has been
passing the time pleasantly in handling rich brocades you have been
lying here in anguish. Behold now, without delay she will prepare food
to divert your mind, and to mark the occasion she had already
purchased a little jar of gold-fish gills, two eggs branded with the
assurance that they have been earth-buried for eleven years, and a
small serpent preserved in oil.”
When they had eaten for some time in silence Yuen Yan again spoke.
“Attend closely to my words,” he said, “and if you perceive any
disconcerting oversight in the scheme which I am about to lay before
you do not hesitate to declare it. The threat which Heng-cho the baker
swore he swore openly, and many reputable witnesses could be gathered
together who would confirm his words, while the written message of
reconciliation which he sent will be known to none. Let us therefore
take that which lies in the cave beneath and clothing it in my robes
bear it unperceived as soon as the night has descended and leave it in
the courtyard of Heng-cho’s house. Now Heng-cho has a fig plantation
outside the city, so that when he rises early, as his custom is, and
finds the body, he will carry it away to bury it secretly there,
remembering his impetuous words and well knowing the net of entangling
circumstances which must otherwise close around him. At that moment
you will appear before him, searching for your husband, and suspecting
his burden raise an outcry that may draw the neighbours to your side
if necessary. On this point, however, be discreetly observant, for if
the tumult calls down the official watch it will go evilly with
Heng-cho, but we shall profit little. The greater likelihood is that
as soon as you lift up your voice the baker will implore you to
accompany him back to his house so that he may make a full and
honourable compensation. This you will do, and hastening the
negotiation as much as is consistent with a seemly regard for your
overwhelming grief, you will accept not less than five hundred taels
and an undertaking that a suitable funeral will be provided.”
“O thrice-versatile Chou-hu!” exclaimed Tsae-che, whose eyes had
reflected an ever-increasing sparkle of admiration as Yan unfolded the
details of his scheme, “how insignificant are the minds of others
compared with yours! Assuredly you have been drinking at some magic
well in this one’s absence, for never before was your intellect so
keen and lustreful. Let us at once carry your noble stratagem into
effect, for this person’s toes vibrate to bear her on a project of
such remunerative ingenuity.”
Accordingly they descended into the cave beneath and taking up Chou-hu
they again dressed him in his own robes. In his inner sleeve Yan
placed some parchments of slight importance; he returned the jade
bracelet to his wrist and by other signs he made his identity
unmistakable; then lifting him between them, when the night was well
advanced, they carried him through unfrequented ways and left him
unperceived within Heng-cho’s gate.
“There is yet another precaution which will ensure to you the
sympathetic voices of all if it should become necessary to appeal
openly,” said Yuen Yan when they had returned. “I will make out a deed
of final intention conferring all I possess upon Yuen Yan as a mark of
esteem for his conscientious services, and this you can produce if
necessary in order to crush the niggard baker in the wine-press of
your necessitous destitution.” Thereupon Yan drew up such a document
as he had described, signing it with Chou-hu’s name and sealing it
with his ring, while Tsae-che also added her sign and attestation. He
then sent her to lurk upon the roof, strictly commanding her to keep
an undeviating watch upon Heng-cho’s movements.
It was about the hour before dawn when Heng-cho appeared, bearing
across his back a well-filled sack and carrying in his right hand a
spade. His steps were turned towards the fig orchard of which Yan had
spoken, so that he must pass Chou-hu’s house, but before he reached it
Tsae-che had glided out and with loosened hair and trailing robes she
sped along the street. Presently there came to Yuen Yan’s waiting ear
a long-drawn cry and the sounds of many shutters being flung open and
the tread of hurrying feet. The moments hung about him like the wings
of a dragon-dream, but a prudent restraint chained him to the inner
chamber.
It was fully light when Tsae-che returned, accompanied by one whom she
dismissed before she entered. “Felicity,” she explained, placing
before Yan a heavy bag of silver. “Your word has been accomplished.”
“It is sufficient,” replied Yan in a tone from which every tender
modulation was absent, as he laid the silver by the side of the
parchment which he had drawn up. “For what reason is the outer door
now barred and they who drink tea with us prevented from entering to
wish Yuen Yan prosperity?”
“Strange are my lord’s words, and the touch of his breath is cold to
his menial one,” said the woman in doubting reproach.
“It will scarcely warm even the roots of Heng-cho’s fig-trees,”
replied Yuen Yan with unveiled contempt. “Stretch across your hand.”
In trembling wonder Tsae-che laid her hand upon the ebony table which
stood between them and slowly advanced it until Yan seized it and held
it firmly in his own. For a moment he held it, compelling the woman to
gaze with a soul-crushing dread into his face, then his features
relaxed somewhat from the effort by which he had controlled them, and
at the sight Tsae-che tore away her hand and with a scream which
caused those outside to forget the memory of every other cry they had
ever heard, she cast herself from the house and was seen in the city
no more.
These are the pages of the forgotten incident in the life of Yuen Yan
which this narrator has sought out and discovered. Elsewhere, in the
lesser Classics, it may be read that the person in question afterwards
lived to a venerable age and finally Passed Above surrounded by every
luxury, after leading an existence consistently benevolent and marked
by an even exceptional adherence to the principles and requirements of
The Virtues.