Chapter 64: The Letter-Writer

Hei Fu walked through the narrow lanes of Zhaoyang Hamlet, flanked by tightly packed houses. People came and went along the way — some carrying buckets to fetch water, others dropping in on neighbors. With no farm work to do in the dead of winter and the houses already mostly repaired, the hamlet folk seemed far more at leisure than usual.

Quite a few people crossed his path along the way. The moment they caught sight of Hei Fu's red headscarf and crimson uniform, their faces stiffened and they hurriedly bowed and greeted him.

Hei Fu asked no further questions, keeping an amiable smile and nodding to the hamlet folk all along the road.

Though the villagers of Sunset Hamlet had once left a very bad impression on him, not everyone was like that — village society was, on the whole, harmonious and friendly. Without anyone stirring them up, the villagers were simple folk: their envy was simple envy, their respect simple respect. Joy, anger, sorrow, fear — all rose from the heart, with little attempt to hide them.

Hei Fu did notice, however, that the people of Zhaoyang Hamlet were still quite afraid of him as the Bailiff. Just moments ago, a child of four or five with hair in tufts had been sucking on their thumbnail, staring curiously at the rope and short sword at his waist — only to be immediately scolded by the mother, who hastily tugged the child's hand and made them turn their head away!

As she brushed past Hei Fu, the woman was stammering and timid, shielding the child in her arms and apologizing profusely.

Hei Fu took the initiative to let them pass first, then shook his head helplessly. "Could it be that my predecessor was too overbearing and gave the people of Zhaoyang Hamlet a bad impression?"

Truth be told, even in later ages, ordinary folk tended to be somewhat cowed when they saw a constable — after all, it was a unit that enforced by violence. And now, Hei Fu was already a "Heavenly Hound" of the Great Qin, what later generations would call a "court hawk-hound." Qin law was harsh; in the eyes of people of the time, a bailiff's visit rarely meant anything good, and might well bring calamity enough to ruin a family and wipe out a household.

Hei Fu had come here precisely to arrest someone.

After walking a short while, he stopped outside a house on the east side of Zhaoyang Hamlet.

It was a typical residence of a First-Rank Knight — a modest courtyard with two rows of rooms front and back. The gate was not locked, nor had they built walls, merely enclosing it with a waist-high hedge. Through the hedge, Hei Fu could still see the scene inside.

A tall yellow-pear tree grew in the courtyard, now reduced to a few withered leaves. Hei Fu's eyes couldn't help narrowing — that anonymous letter tablet had been made of yellow-pear wood…

A twittering sound reached him. Hei Fu looked over: to the left of the tree was a chicken coop. A woman in her twenties, dressed in a coarse-hemp robe and cloth skirt, was holding a winnowing basket, scattering bran and vegetable leaves across the yard with one hand so the flock in the coop could come out and peck. When she fed the few fuzzy, tender-yellow chicks, a happy laugh escaped her.

Yet this moment of tranquil contentment was shattered by the uninvited guest in the red headscarf and crimson uniform outside the gate…

The woman looked up and saw Hei Fu standing right at the gate. A startled cry burst from her; the winnowing basket slipped heedlessly from her hand and clattered to the ground, scattering bran everywhere!

The flock immediately flapped over and crowded around her, pecking frantically at her feet. Their sharp beaks even jabbed at the woman's cloth shoes, but she stood utterly still, only her lips trembling slightly as she called out toward the house.

"Hus… husband…"

"What is it?!"

The man inside came out at once upon hearing his wife's startled cry. He stood over seven chi tall and wore a thick winter coat. That their household could afford to raise so many chickens showed their circumstances were not bad. A pity the master of the house looked sickly — gaunt-faced, his voice lacking in vigor, and carrying a slight cough.

Hei Fu saw a paring knife clutched in the man's right hand and something else in his left. Alert at once, he moved his hand to his sword hilt.

At that moment, the man also caught sight of Hei Fu — saw the two-chi wooden tablet in his hand, the rope at his waist, and the hand resting on the sword hilt — and froze on the spot.

Hei Fu nodded toward him. "I am the Bailiff of Huyang Precinct. Are you Quji, First-Rank Knight of Zhaoyang Hamlet?"

"I am Quji." The man nodded and forced a smile. "May I ask what matter brings the Bailiff to me?"

Hei Fu glanced at the woman standing frozen beside the chicken coop. Making an arrest in front of a man's wife was not ideal, so he said, "Better come outside to talk."

The man seemed to understand something as well. His face pale, he nodded. He tossed the paring knife from his right hand to the ground, walked over to his wife, pressed the object in his left hand into hers, then tenderly laid his hand on the woman's belly and said softly:

"Stay home and be well. I will go and be back shortly."

Hei Fu noticed that it was a little wooden figurine, already mostly carved, with a nose and eyes. And the woman's belly was slightly swollen — she seemed to be with child…

His hand, which had been gripping the sword hilt, loosened.

The bailiff who ruins families, the clerk who wipes out households.

In that instant, a sudden pang of regret struck Hei Fu — regret that he had not listened to Li Xian and burned that anonymous letter, leaving himself clean of it all…

The way things were unfolding now seemed not quite what he had imagined. He no longer needed to feign mystery; the suspect was all but confirmed. Yet the letter-writer was not obligingly playing the role of the clown, panicking and losing his wits before him.

He watched the man bid his wife a reluctant farewell, and hesitated. If he turned and left right now, would it still be in time?

But when he looked back, the figures of Li Xian and Ji Ying had already appeared in the distance, hurrying this way at a quick pace.

Too late.

At this stage, it was already too late for Hei Fu to pull back. Never mind that he had boasted before the precinct guards — under Qin law, not knowing the letter-writer was one thing; knowing who it was and deliberately letting them go was quite another. If Hei Fu went soft now, he feared the red headscarf on his head would not stay there long.

Hei Fu sighed inwardly. By now the man had stepped out of the courtyard, carefully closed the gate, cast one more glance at his wife, and then bowed deeply toward Hei Fu with hands clasped!

"You know why I have come?" Hei Fu strove to keep his tone from sounding too cold.

"I know…"

The man gave a bitter smile and held out his hands. "I was wrong. I should not have clung to foolish hope. Bailiff, bind me."

"That won't be necessary."

The man's wife was still gazing through the hedge, tears streaming down. Hei Fu walked up beside Quji, clapped him on the shoulder, and said loudly, "Don't be nervous. I'm only bringing you to the precinct to ask a few questions! Nothing more!"

An anonymous accusation was indeed a crime, but the penalty only went as far as a fine of three suits of armor — equivalent to over four thousand cash, not terribly severe. Given this household's means, they should be able to pay it.

That was, of course, on the condition that the man had not made any malicious false accusation in the letter…

…

Two shichen later, inside Huyang Precinct, before the eyes of Hei Fu, Li Xian, and the others, the First-Rank Knight Quji had finished giving his account of the matter…

Including how he had seen Ji Ying delivering letters to Zhaoyang Hamlet every two or three days, and from that had conceived the plan of sending an anonymous letter when the chance arose. Including how, on the day of the La Festival, he had observed the format of the letters held by the Hamlet Chief and the Field Clerk, then used the yellow-pear wood in his own yard to whittle two wooden tablets, written the contents on them, but left no name…

"That is how it happened. I was also at that First-Rank Knight's house where the child was born, keeping the wooden tablet hidden in my robes, waiting all the while for an opportunity. When this courier set his back-basket down by the privy and went in to relieve himself, I followed over. Seeing no one was paying attention, I slipped the letter in."

Quji's health was not good, and he had caught a chill on the way over. He coughed as he spoke. Hei Fu had someone drape his own winter coat over him and told Old Man Pu to stoke the brazier hot and place it beside him. Only then did Quji feel a little better, and he haltingly finished recounting the whole course of events.

Hei Fu had Li Xian record the questioning process on a wooden tablet off to the side. He himself pointed at the letter tablet on the table and asked, "Quji, you went to all this trouble just to deliver one anonymous letter. Why did you do it? What is written in this letter? And whom does it concern?"

Whether from stirred emotions or not, Quji started coughing again. Only after drinking a mouthful of hot water that Xiao Tao handed him did he smile bitterly and say, "Since the letter is already in the Bailiff's hands, why not open it and see for yourself? Why make me recount it all over again?"

The Thief-Catcher Dongmen Bao had long since finished escorting the prisoner and returned from the township. The moment he entered and heard that Hei Fu had successfully arrested the letter-writer, he grew greatly excited. A man who had always held that one should not be too polite to suspects, he flared up at these words and slammed the table. "You wretch! You still dare talk back!"

"Bao! Do not intimidate him."

Hei Fu called Dongmen Bao to a halt. He held the wooden tablet in his hand, took the paring knife in his left, and began slowly cutting through the tightly knotted cord…

Aside from Yu Liang, who had been sent to keep watch outside the door, the five inside — Dongmen Bao, Li Xian, Ji Ying, Old Man Pu, and Xiao Tao — all unconsciously straightened up where they knelt and sat, craning to see, curious about the contents of the letter.

At last, Hei Fu cut through the cord and slowly opened the two halves of the wooden tablet. The top tablet was blank; the bottom tablet was densely packed with black seal-script characters…

After one sweeping glance, Hei Fu's expression changed at once.

"Quji!" He raised his head and barked sternly, "Is what you are reporting true?!"

Quji said weakly from the straw mat, "Every word is true, absolutely true…"

With a snap, Hei Fu shut the tablet. His heart surged, and his eyes blazed!

He had never imagined that one small anonymous letter would drag out a major case like this!

PS: I got the price of a single jia wrong earlier — one jia is 1344 cash, three jia is 4032 cash.

And here are the commodity prices, so I don't forget again:

Unhusked millet ranges from 30 to 120 cash; in the twenty-second year of King Zheng of Qin, it was set at 40 cash per dan.

A plow ox is worth ten thousand cash, a good horse also ten thousand cash, an inferior horse five thousand cash or more.

An adult slave is 4,300 cash, a child slave 2,500 cash.

One tael of gold is worth 576 cash.

(End of chapter)