The Corpse Reader (18 page)

“But I won fairly.”

“Right—as fairly as me with the crickets. You don’t fool me, boy. We’re made of the same stuff, you and I. When the giant was squeezing your neck you hardly even flinched. I didn’t think of it then, but then when I saw your scars, and especially the ones that looked like they were from another Dragon Challenge…Come on! There’s no way that was the first time you’d played. I’ll say it again: I have no idea how you managed it, but you tricked a roomful of
people. All except me. Xu, fortune-teller and cheat. That’s why I bet on you.”

“I have no idea what you mean.”

“Mmm. And I have no idea what a magnet is. Here, let me have a look at that leg.” Peering at Cí’s shin, he swore. “Whoa! Been playing with tigers, have you?”

Cí gritted his teeth. He was losing precious time. He hadn’t put his life on the line just so Third could spend the whole night hidden in that hovel alone.

“Do you know of any pharmacies around here?”

“I know a few, but they won’t open unless I’m with you. Can’t you wait until morning?”

“No. I can’t.”

“Fine, let’s go.”

A thick fog hung over the backstreets near the gate. Cí knew they must be getting close to some warehouses by the smell of fish. They came by several ruffians, who eyed them hopefully, but between Cí’s limp and the fortune-teller’s threadbare donkey pelt, they obviously didn’t look worth mugging. The fortune-teller took them down a fish-bone alley, where filth and fish guts were dumped. Stepping from the soup of putrid, sticky blood coating the ground, he knocked on the second door of a shady-looking building. A man with boils all over his face peered out.

“Xu? Got the money you owe me?”

“Damn you! Can’t you see this man is injured?”

The man spat.

“Got my money or not?”

Xu stepped past the man and went in. The room was a sty. Once they had pushed aside piles of junk and found somewhere to sit, Cí asked if he had any of the root Third needed. The man with the boils on his face nodded, disappeared behind a drape, and returned with the medicine. Cí checked to make sure it was the
right one with a dab on his finger and asked if there was more than the small amount he was offered, but the man said that was all he had. They haggled, and the man finally accepted 800
qián
.

“Hey,” said Xu, “give us something for the boy’s leg, too.”

The man handed Cí some ointment.

“I’m fine—”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get it.” Xu paid, and they left the hovel.

It had begun to rain, and the wind had picked up. Cí began to say good-bye.

“Thanks for—”

“Don’t mention it. Listen, I’ve been thinking…You said you don’t have any work.”

“That’s right.”

“My real job is as a grave digger. It’s decent pay if you know how to treat the deceased’s families. I work in the Fields of Death, in Lin’an’s Great Cemetery. The fortune-telling, all that, is just something I do on the side. You cheat a couple of people, like with the crickets, and word gets out. I always have to work different neighborhoods…and then there are the gangs to deal with. They take most of my profits anyway. I’ve got family! And the whores and the wine, they cost, too!” he said and laughed.

“Sorry, but—”

“OK, I get it. You have to go. Where are you headed? South? Come on, let’s go. I’ll go with you.”

Cí said he’d be getting a barge, now that he could pay for a ride.

“Money’s a great thing! Sure you don’t want to earn more?” Laughing at his own joke for some reason, Xu slapped Cí on the back, forgetting about his wounds.

“Do you really have to ask?”

“Like I said, the crickets and everything, that’s just to cover costs…But you and me together…I know the markets, all the
corner spots. I know how to reel the people in, and you, with this gift of yours…Hmm…We could be rolling in it.”

“What do you mean, exactly?”

“Hmm, yes…We’d have to be smart…Not like with that giant, no. Get pimps, real street folk, preferably drunk! The areas around the gates are packed with idiots just dying to lose their money! A fresh face like yours would be just the thing. By the time they realize we’ve screwed them, we’ll be long gone!”

“I appreciate the offer, but I’ve actually got other plans.”

“Other plans? Are you trying to get more money out of me already? Don’t worry, we’ll split it right down the middle, fifty-fifty. Or maybe you think you could make more without me? Because if it’s that, I can promise you you’re wrong.”

“No, I’m just hoping for slightly less risky work. I’ve really got to go,” said Cí, stepping onto a barge that was just leaving. He tossed Xu his pelt.

Xu caught it and shouted, “Hold up. What’s your name?”

Cí answered only by saying thanks, then turned and was lost in the fog.

His trip back across the city went slowly. Third weighed heavily on his mind, and he felt sure something bad had happened to her. Back at the hostel, he hurried up the stairs, ignoring his injured leg. There were no lanterns, so he had to feel his way along to the room. Pulling the drape aside, he called for Third. She didn’t answer. It was deathly quiet. Rain had been coming in through the hole in the wall, and the floor was soaking wet.

His hands trembled as he moved aside the bamboo shelter in which he’d left her. There was some kind of unmoving bulk in there—Cí prayed she was just sleeping. He reached his hand out
slowly, afraid of touching it…And when his fingers reached the pile of rags and blankets on the floor, he let out a cry.

There was nothing there. Just some soaked pieces of fabric, including the clothes Third had been wearing when Cí had left.

Cí ran down the stairs shouting his sister’s name. He burst into the little room where the innkeeper slept, tore away the blanket the man was sleeping under, and grabbed him by the throat.

“Where is she?”

“Who?”

“The girl who came in with me! Answer me, or you’re dead!”

“Shh…she’s in there…”

Cí shoved him back down on his bed and rushed into the room the innkeeper had pointed toward. It was unlit, with pieces of broken furniture everywhere. He stumbled through to another room, where a lantern flickered. It was a mess, too, and though it was lit a dim orange, it was difficult to distinguish anything. Suddenly Cí heard labored breathing coming from a corner of the room. Squinting, he was able to make out the shape of a person. He went over and was met by the eyes of a girl peering at him from a filthy face. But it wasn’t Third; Third lay in the girl’s lap, curled up and trembling violently.

He was about to kneel down next to them when something struck him on the back of the head, knocking him unconscious.

Once again, that sensation of heaviness and dark.

He could hardly even clear his throat. He was tied up, and a rag that must have been gagging him had fallen down around his neck. His eyes began to adjust; he could see that the girl was still there and Third was still in her lap. The girl was mopping Third’s sweaty brow. Third coughed.

“She’s OK?”

The girl shook her head.

“Can you untie me?” he said.

“My father says you aren’t to be trusted.”

“You’re his daughter? Gods! Can’t you see she needs her medicine?”

The girl glanced nervously at the door. After gently laying Third down on a mat, she went over to Cí and was about to untie him when the door opened. She jumped back—it was her father, and he had a knife.

He knelt down next to Cí. “Right then, you little shit. What’s all this about the girl being your sister?”

Cí assured him Third was his sister, explained her illness and how he’d gone out to get her some medicine, how when he’d come back and she wasn’t in their room, he’d thought the worst—imagined she’d been taken to some brothel.

“Damnation! That hardly explains why you threatened to kill me!”

“I was out of my mind with worry. Please untie me. I really have to give my sister this medicine. It’s in my bag.”

The innkeeper reached into Cí’s bag.

“Careful, that’s all there is.”

The innkeeper sniffed the medicine, recoiling at the bitter smell.

“And what about the money you had in here? Who did you rob?”

“No one. Those are my savings. And I need every last penny for my sister’s medicine.”

The innkeeper spat.

“Fine,” he said to his daughter. “Untie him.”

As soon as Cí was free, he rushed over to Third, mixed up the powdered root with some water, and gave it to her.

“How are you doing, little one?”

That she smiled, though only weakly, made Cí feel a hundred times better.

The innkeeper would give him back only 300
qián
of the money he’d taken while Cí had been unconscious; the rest he was keeping as compensation for his daughter Moon’s looking after Third, for the clothes they’d dressed her in when they found her coughing and soaked in sweat.

The amount seemed too much, but Cí didn’t argue; he knew the man had to look out for his own. Soon, a voice in the entry called the innkeeper away, and Cí tried to talk to Moon, but she seemed reluctant. He took Third in his arms and turned to Moon.

“Would you be able to look after her?”

The girl didn’t seem to understand.

“I need someone to be with her. I’ll pay you.”

Moon appeared curious but didn’t answer. She got up and held the door, gesturing for him to go out now. But as he went past her, she whispered, “See you tomorrow.”

Cí smiled in surprise. “See you tomorrow.”