Page 54 - WTP Vol. VIII #4

First Case (continued from preceding page)
Ju had heard enough. “The ceremony should be to- morrow, because I, too, would like to honor He-Bo, the river dragon.”
In the silence after Sunshu kowtowed away, Ju stud- ied Zi-Fang.
His clerk looked pale and much older. “Master Ju,” the young man began, and his voice broke.
~
Morning dawned warm and moist. A mist clinging to the ground made it difficult to see even as far as the river. The temple courtyard was filled with sounds
of joy, professional joy. The well-paid acrobats and musicians that Sunshu had hired, were practicing their trade. The younger priests flirted with some of the dancers. In contrast the villagers stood in stoic silence. Their sullen attendance, Ju suspected, due more to the presence of the temple guards than their own wishes.
A sedan chair waited for the bride under the willow tree. Ju hoped that Zi-Fang had managed to speak to Madam Flower. After a long, hot wait, the housekeep- er appeared with Luyuan, heavily veiled, clutching her mother’s arm.
“A bridal toast,” said Sunshu, holding out a cup of wine.
Drugged? If so, Ju figured that it explained why the brides were docile on the day of their sacrifice.
Luyuan drank the wine and climbed into the chair. With a hint of reluctance, the crowd allowed it to pass.
At the dock, Ju saw that the fragile raft, decorated with flowers and banners, sat low in the water. The bamboo poles flexed under the weight of the plat- form bed. He knew that the plan was for the raft to be towed out into the middle of the river, loaded with rocks and sunk.
Sunshu and his assistants began a long series of chants that were haphazardly seconded by the audi- ence. Ju noticed that most families had thrust their younger women into the middle of family groups. Fathers and brothers stood with crossed arms, look- ing grim. Some of the younger men, mouths set in stiff lines, were not even pretending to respond to the priests’ incantations.
Ju was wondering if he would have to stand under the hot sun until his entire robe dripped with sweat when
Sunshu spoke. “Come forth, Bride of He-Bo. Come forth, oh fortunate girl.” The curtains on the chair moved and Luyuan stepped out. She swayed in the damp air—veils quivering in the breeze.
It was time. Ju stepped forward. He waited for the music to trail away. “I am a visitor here. What do you expect He-Bo’s concubine to do?”
Sunshu looked annoyed at the interruption, but one of the younger priests replied. “If she is a good girl, the river dragon will not flood our valley, but if she is bad,” he paused and glared at Luyuan who shrank inside her veils, “he will send us floods.”
“So,” Ju kept his tone one of polite inquiry, “you ex- pect this very beautiful but ignorant girl to persuade the river dragon to save you?”
Sunshu smirked. “I expect that He-Bo is not inter- ested in the girl’s brains.” Some of the younger priests laughed in a single coarse growl.
Ju allowed the salacious response to hang in the air for a long moment. “I think that Luyuan, as beautiful as a plum blossom, is not wise enough to persuade the river dragon to stop the flooding.” He paused to let his words pass all the way to the rear of the crowd where the villagers were standing. A girl began to wail and was quickly silenced. “No young girl is wise enough.” He paused again. “I think the best way to persuade He-Bo not to flood your valley is to send your wise priests to talk to him.”
~
It was not easy. At first some of the villagers, terrified and shaking at the thought of He-Bo’s wrath, protest- ed. “My daughter was chosen fifteen years ago. She was a good girl.” The speaker was an old man—his face wrinkled from years of sun. Next to him stood an old woman, probably his wife—face grim. “Our Lily made a wonderful concubine. There were no floods that year.” Her whisper ended in a sob. “The dowry beggared us, uncle.” A younger man standung next to them looked tired and sad. “My daughter was hon- ored to be He-Bo’s concubine!” The old man faced his nephew with face flushed red and hands in fists.
As Ju’s guards nudged the two men apart Zi-Fang slipped through the crowd. “Master.”
He held the dowry box.
“No!” Shouted Sushun. “Those treasures belong to the river dragon!”
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