Sandalwood Death: A Novel (Chinese Literature Today Book Series)

  With bad eyes and a poor memory, I truly had not known who he was. But I did know Yuan Baoheng, Excellency Yuan, who had bestowed favors on me at the time.

  “Truth is, how could I not recognize such a distinguished appearance? Back then, Excellency Yuan, you were a mischievous youngster. Your uncle wanted you to take up studies and make your name as a civil service scholar. But you were not scholar material, and you never missed an opportunity to come to the Eastern Compound to spend time with us. Once you gained an understanding of our rules and traditions, you talked Grandma Yu into letting you put on a set of executioner’s clothing without telling your uncle, then you smeared your smooth, round face with rooster blood and went with us to the marketplace for the execution of a criminal who had impudently hunted a rabbit near the Imperial Mausoleum and disturbed the sleep of deceased emperors. I pulled the criminal’s queue to expose his neck while you raised your sword and, with no change of expression and a steady hand, needed but one chop to separate him from his head. When it was all over, your uncle learned what you had done and slapped you in front of us. We were so terrified we fell to our knees and banged our heads on the floor as if we were crushing cloves of garlic. ‘You miserable wretch,’ your uncle exploded, ‘how dare you do something like that!’ But you leaped to your own defense: ‘Do not be angry, revered uncle; killing someone during a crime is a heinous offense, but killing someone who has committed a crime is an act of patriotism. Your unworthy nephew is determined to make his name on the battlefield, and the reason I assumed the appearance today was to fortify my courage for the future.’ Your uncle continued to rage, but we all knew that he was looking at you with increased respect . . .”

  “Old Zhao, you are too smart a man,” a smiling Excellency Yuan said, “not to recognize me. You are afraid I will blame you for what happened. In truth, I do not regard what happened as anything to be ashamed of. Back when I was studying with my uncle in the Board of Punishments, I read up on the executioner’s trade and benefited greatly from it. Going with you to execute that criminal was a rare and unforgettable experience that has had a major impact on my life, and I have summoned you here today to thank you.”

  I responded with more kowtows and expressions of gratitude.

  “Get up,” Excellency Yuan said. “Go back to Peking and wait there, quite possibly for welcome news.”

  ————

  5

  ————

  A civil zhuangyuan, a military zhuangyuan, a civil and military zhuangyuan, for as they say, every profession has its zhuangyuan. I am the zhuangyuan of executioners. Son, the Empress Dowager Herself bestowed this designation on me, and the precious words that come out of Her mouth are not mere pleasantries.

  —Maoqiang Sandalwood Death. A father and son duet

  News of the Tianjin executions and the informal audience with Yuan Shikai created ripples of excitement in the Board of Punishments compound. My fellow tradesmen gave me curious looks, a mixture of envy and admiration. Even mid-level bureau officials, the various vice directors who came to work carrying their official clothing in a bundle, nodded silent greetings that told me that these graduates of the Imperial Examination had begun to see me in a different light. I would be lying if I said this displeased me, but I refused to let it go to my head. A lifetime in the yamen had taught me that the ocean is deeper than a pond and that flames are hotter than cinders. I did not have to be told that the tallest tree stands beneath the heavens, the tallest man is dwarfed by a mountain, and the brawniest slave obeys his master. On my second day back in the capital, the Board’s Vice President, Excellency Tie, summoned me to his document room, where the Deputy Director of the Bureau of Detentions, Eminence Sun, was in attendance. Excellency Tie grilled me about the Tianjin executions, wanting to know even the smallest detail. I answered all his questions. He then asked about the New Army’s military preparedness at Small Station, including a description of the soldiers’ uniforms, even the colors. How was the weather there, what was the state of the Hai River . . . Finally, when there was nothing more to ask, he asked how Excellency Yuan looked and felt. “He is fine,” I said, “a nice ruddy complexion, and a voice like a brass bell. I personally watched him eat half a dozen eggs, a large steamed bun, and a full bowl of porridge in one sitting.” Excellency Tie glanced at Eminence Sun and said with a sigh: “He is in his prime; his future is assured.” Eminence Sun added: “With Yuan Shikai’s military background, it is natural to have a hardy appetite.” Encouraged by what I saw in Excellency Tie’s eyes, I decided to offer up a blatant falsehood: “His Excellency asked me to pass on his best wishes,” I said. “Indeed?” Excellency Tie said excitedly. I nodded to assure him. “It is worth mentioning that Excellency Yuan and I are related. His great-uncle Yuan Jiasan’s second concubine’s niece is the wife of my father’s younger brother!” “I seem to recall that Excellency Yuan mentioned that once.” “Family connections like that are not that important!” Excellency Tie said. “Grandma Zhao, your success at the Tianjin executions has burnished the reputation of the Board of Punishments. Grand Secretary Wang has expressed his satisfaction, and I have summoned you here today to reward you. I hope that this will not lead to arrogance and rash behavior, and that you will continue to work for the nation to the best of your ability.” “Excellency,” I said, “ever since returning from Tianjin, I have been bothered by a sore wrist, and I . . .” Excellency Tie interrupted me: “The Court has initiated a series of reforms that may well mean the abolishment of such cruel punishments as the slicing death and cleaving a criminal in two. I am afraid that Grandma Zhao may become a hero denied a place to demonstrate his skills. Eminence Sun,” he said as he stood up, “give Zhao Jia ten liang of silver from your Bureau of Detentions funds and charge it to the Board, on Grand Secretary Wang’s authority.” I fell to my knees and kowtowed before backing out of the hall bent at the waist; I saw a cloud spread across Tie’s face, in contrast to the genial look he’d worn while bragging about his family connection to Excellency Yuan. High officials were subject to mercurial mood changes, but I was familiar enough with their temperament to not let that bother me.

  The new year had barely begun, and the second lunar month was already upon us. The weeping willows lining the stream beside Board of Punishments Avenue were beginning to turn green, and the crows perching on the scholar trees in the compound were getting livelier by the day, and yet there was no sign of the welcome news Excellency Yuan had promised. The ten liang of silver from Excellency Tie could not have been what he was referring to, could it? No, of course not. Not when I had turned down his offer of a hundred liang. How could ten liang of silver be considered welcome news? I was convinced that he was not in the habit of jesting. He and I had formed an amicable relationship, and he would not string me along, like someone who teases a dog with an air-filled bladder.

  On the second night of the new month, Deputy Director Sun brought word that I was to rise by the fourth watch the next morning, bathe, eat a light breakfast that included nothing that dispersed internal heat—no spicy foods such as ginger or garlic—dress in new clothes, and carry no sharp instruments. I was to appear at the Bureau of Detentions by the fifth watch and wait for him. I considered asking what this was all about, but one look at his long, somber face convinced me to hold my tongue. I had a premonition that Excellency Yuan’s welcome news awaited. But never in my wildest imagination could I have anticipated that I was about to be received in a solemn audience by Her Royal Highness, the Empress Dowager Cixi—may She live forever—and His Imperial Majesty, the ageless Emperor!

  The third watch had just been announced, and I was too tense to sleep, so I got out of bed, lit a lantern, smoked a pipe, and told the nephews to boil some water. Filled with excitement, they clambered out of bed bright-eyed and spoke in hushed tones. First Aunt assisted me into a large tub to bathe, Second Aunt dried me off, and Third Aunt helped me get dressed. We had rescued this youngster, with his fair complexion and nicely chiseled features, a bo
y who managed everything he touched with clever assurance, from the life of a beggar, and he treated me like a filial son. The joy he felt flowed from his eyes. All my apprentices enjoyed a shared sense of joy that morning. When auspicious things happened to their shifu, they reaped benefits, and I could see that their good feelings were heartfelt, with no hint of pretense.

  “Don’t be too quick to celebrate,” I said, “for we do not know whether this news is good or bad.”

  “It’s good,” Third Aunt insisted. “I know it is!”

  “Your shifu is getting on in years,” I said with a sigh, “and the slightest slip could cost him his head . . .”

  “That cannot happen,” First Aunt said. “Old ginger is the spiciest. Besides, Grandma carried out an execution on the Palace grounds decades ago.”

  I had assumed that another Palace eunuch had committed a crime and that I was being summoned to carry out his execution. But I could not dismiss the feeling that something was different. Back when I was apprenticed to Grandma Yu and assigned the responsibility of putting Little Insect to death with Yama’s Hoop, the Palace had spelled out our duties well ahead of time and had said nothing about bathing or eating a modest breakfast beforehand. But if this was not about plying my trade, what possible reason could there be for summoning an executioner? Could it be . . . could it be my turn to go on the chopping block? In a state of agitation, I ate half a meat-stuffed wheat cake, brushed my teeth with roasted salt, and rinsed my mouth with fresh water. I walked outside, where I saw that the constellation Orion had moved a bit to the west, though the fourth watch had not yet been announced—it was still early. So I engaged my apprentices in conversation until I heard a rooster’s crow. “Better early than late,” I said. “Let’s go.” So, escorted by my apprentices, I arrived at the entrance to the Bureau of Detentions.

  Though the weather in the capital on that early day of the second month was still quite cold, I wore only a lined jacket under my official clothes in order not to appear frail. But my teeth chattered under the onslaught of the chilled early morning winds, and I instinctively tucked my neck down into my shoulders. There was a sudden change in the sky, which turned pitch-black and seemed to light up the stars. We waited an hour, until the fifth watch was announced, when the sky turned a fish-belly gray and the city and its outskirts began to stir. The city gate creaked open to welcome in water wagons that groaned under their heavy loads. Then a horse-drawn carriage rumbled quickly into the compound, preceded by a pair of servants carrying red lanterns, the shades stamped with the black character “TIE,” which told us that Excellency Tie had arrived. The servants pulled back the protective curtain to allow Excellency Tie, a fur coat over his shoulders, to step down. His servants moved the carriage to the side of the road as His Excellency walked my way with faltering steps. I greeted him with a respectful salute. He coughed, spat out a mouthful of phlegm, and looked me over.

  “Old Zhao,” he said, “limitless blessings have been bestowed on you.”

  “I am unworthy and can only throw myself at Your Excellency’s feet.”

  “Once you are inside, answer with care, saying only what is expected of you.” His eyes sparkled in the dim light.

  “I understand.”

  “You others may leave now,” he said to my apprentices. “Rare good fortune has arrived for your shifu.”

  My apprentices departed, leaving only me and Excellency Tie standing in front of the Bureau of Detentions. His servants stayed with the carriage, lanterns now extinguished. I heard the sound of horses eating feed in the darkness; its fragrance carried all the way over to me—it was, I detected, a mix of fried soybeans and rice straw.

  “Excellency, what do you want me to . . .”

  “Keep your mouth shut,” he said coldly. “If I were you, I would not say a word except in response to questions by the Empress Dowager or the Emperor.”

  Could it really be . . .

  When I stepped out of the small, canopied palanquin carried by two eunuchs, a slightly hunchbacked eunuch in a loose tan robe nodded enigmatically to me. I fell in behind him and passed through a maze of gardens and corridors, finally arriving in front of a hall that seemed to reach the heavens. By then the sun had climbed into the sky, its redness sending rays of morning sunlight in all directions. I sneaked a look around me, and saw that magnificent linked buildings in resplendent golds and greens surrounded me, as if ringed by a prairie fire. The eunuch pointed to the ground at my feet; I was standing on green bricks that shone like the bottom of a scrubbed frying pan. I looked up, hoping to see in his face a sign that would tell me what he meant, but the old fellow had already turned away from me, and all I could see was his back as he stood respectfully, arms at his sides, and I realized that he wanted me to wait where I was. By then I knew precisely what awaited me—Excellency Yuan’s welcome news. The next thing I saw was a progression of high officials in red caps backing out of the hall, heads down and bent at the waist. They wore somber looks and looked out of breath; oily drops of perspiration dotted some of their faces, and the sight made my heart race wildly. My legs trembled, and my palms were sweaty despite the cold. I did not know whether what awaited me was good fortune or ill, but if I’d had the chance, I’d have slunk out of there as fast as possible and taken refuge in my little room, where I could quell my fears with a decanter of fine spirits. But now that I was here, that was out of the question.

  A eunuch whose face glowed beneath his red cap emerged through an enormous doorway that I dared not even glance at; he gestured to the old eunuch who had brought me there. The man’s large face was as radiant as a Buddhist treasure, and though no one has ever told me who he was, I suspect it was the Chief Eunuch, Li Lianying. He and my confidant, Excellency Yuan, were sworn brothers, and it was all but certain that it was he who had arranged my audience with his benefactress, the Empress Dowager. I stood there like a fool, my mind a blank, until the hunchbacked old eunuch tugged my sleeve and said softly: “Move! They are summoning you!”

  That was when I heard someone call out in a booming voice:

  “Summoning Zhao Jia—”

  I have no recollection of walking into the hall that morning, and recall only the scene of splendor that greeted my eyes once inside, as if a golden dragon and a red phoenix had suddenly materialized. When I was a child, my mother told me that the Emperor was the reincarnation of a golden dragon, and the Empress Dowager the reincarnation of a red phoenix. Terror-stricken, I knelt on the floor, which felt as hot as a newly heated brick bed. I kowtowed and I kowtowed and I kowtowed; it wasn’t until later that I realized how badly I had injured my forehead, which was a bloody mess, like a rotten radish, which must have nauseated the Empress Dowager and Emperor. I deserved a thousand deaths. I was supposed to wish Them long, long lives, but I was so flummoxed by then that my head might as well have been filled with paste. All I could do was kowtow over and over and over.

  It must have been a hand grabbing hold of my queue that brought my head banging to a halt. I struggled to keep connecting with the heated floor, but was stopped by a voice behind me:

  “No more kowtows. The Old Buddha has asked you a question.”

  Peals of laughter erupted up ahead, and I was by then so disoriented that I looked up. And there, in front of my eyes, on a throne sat an old lady whose body radiated light. The words “I deserve death” slipped from my mouth. Seated in front of me was the wise, ageless Empress Dowager, the Old Buddha Herself. A question floated slowly down from on high:

  “I asked you, Slay-master, what is your name?”

  “Your servant is Zhao Jia.”

  “Where are you from?”

  “Your servant is from Gaomi County in Shandong Province.”

  “How many years have you plied your trade?”

  “Forty years.”

  “How many people have you put to death?”

  “Nine hundred eighty-seven.”

  “Ah! You must be a death-dealing demon king!”

  “Y
our servant deserves death.”

  “Why should you deserve death? Those whose heads you detached are the ones who deserved death.”

  “Yes.”

  “I say, Zhao Jia, when you kill someone, are you afraid?”

  “I was at first, but no longer.”

  “What did you do for Yuan Shikai in Tianjin?”

  “Your servant went to Tianjin to carry out a slicing death for Excellency Yuan.”

  “You mean carving up a living person so he will suffer before he dies?”

  “Yes.”

  “The Emperor and I have decided to abolish the slicing death punishment. Are We not expected to initiate reforms? Well, this is one of them. Is that not right, Your Majesty?”

  “Yes.” It was a melancholy sound that floated over to me, and when I boldly looked up, I saw someone in a chair to the left and a bit ahead of the Empress Dowager. He was wearing a bright yellow robe, a golden dragon with glittering scales embroidered on the chest, and a tall hat whose centerpiece was a sparkling pearl the size of a hen’s egg. The face beneath that hat was large and as white as fine porcelain. The August Ruler, the Son of Heaven, Emperor of the Great Qing Dynasty. Of course I knew that he had fallen out of favor with the Empress Dowager over the commotion caused by Kang Youwei and his fellow reformers, but that did nothing to alter the fact that He was the Emperor. Long live His Majesty the Emperor, may He live forever and ever! The Emperor said:

  “What my august progenitor says is true.”

  “Yuan Shikai has said that you desire to return to your native home in retirement.”

  The sarcastic tone in the Empress Dowager’s comment was unmistakable, and I felt two of my three souls departing in abject fear. “Your humble servant deserves to die ten thousand deaths,” I said. “Your humble servant is a pig and a dog, and has no right to cause the Old Buddha any concern. But your humble servant is not thinking of himself alone. It is his thought that while an executioner may be demeaned, the work he performs is not, and as such he is a symbol of national power. We are a nation with a thousand laws, but in the end it is we who enforce them. Your humble servant ventures to propose that executioners be included in the personnel ranks of the Board of Punishments with a monthly wage, and hopes for the creation of a retirement system for executioners, who can subsist on a national pension and not be reduced to wandering the streets in poverty. Your humble servant . . . humble servant hopes as well for the creation of a hereditary system for executioners, so that this ancient profession will be viewed as an honorable one . . .”