Chapter Six: Unraveling the Threads

Peng Cheng walked over to the table, picked up a bowl of wine, and drained it in one gulp.

He had once sat for the imperial examinations in his youth but failed to secure a degree. Thanks to family connections, he obtained an official post and had served in Pucheng for nearly a decade, moving his whole family here—turning from a mere passerby into a true local power.

With a glint in his tiger-like eyes, Peng Cheng strode into the inner room, with Peng Jingyi following close behind. The group of men gambling inside, sweat streaming down their faces, trembled at the sight of him and immediately stood up.

“What is your command, young master?” they asked, bowing and hunching their backs.

“Who knows the whereabouts of Qiao San, the servant from the Zhang family on Chema Street?”

One man stepped forward. “Young master, I know this Qiao San—wasn’t he the one making a scene in the market yesterday?”

“And where is he now?”

“For trying to force a sale, he was taken by the guards and locked up in the back room. He’s gone a whole day and night without food.”

Peng Cheng and Peng Jingyi exchanged glances—what a coincidence!

Zhang Yue, waiting outside, learned from Peng Jingyi about Qiao San’s whereabouts and thought to himself, “So you search high and low for what’s right under your nose, and find it without any effort.”

He was promptly invited, with utmost courtesy, to the back of the official wine house.

Here, among the stalls for donkeys, horses, and mules, a man was shackled beside a railing.

Zhang Yue instantly recognized him from memory—this was indeed Qiao San, the servant who had trailed him furtively on his first day in town.

“Let me out! Please, let me out! My wife and children at home are waiting for me to bring food!” Qiao San, not recognizing Zhang Yue, shouted at the newcomers.

“You filthy wretch, what are you hollering for? Want another beating?” barked one of Peng Cheng’s men.

Qiao San shrank back in fear.

Zhang Yue took another look to confirm: the man had a birthmark the size of a coin on his right cheek, wore a paper-thin jacket, and looked utterly dejected, half-reclining on a straw mat, his right hand shackled high to the railing.

It was Qiao San, without a doubt.

Imitating the tone of an adult, Zhang Yue cleared his throat and said, “Qiao San, do you still recognize me?”

Qiao San looked up in shock. “Third Young Master!” he exclaimed, then immediately looked ashamed and kowtowed. “You must know everything by now, Third Young Master. I, Qiao San, have wronged the Zhang family—I have wronged all of you.”

Peng Jingyi glanced at Zhang Yue in surprise, thinking, “He really guessed it right.”

Zhang Yue, composed, asked with a tone full of disappointment, “Why didn’t you tell my elder brother the truth from the start?”

“It wasn’t—I mean, I didn’t confess to Eldest Young Master because Shopkeeper Wu forced me,” Qiao San sobbed.

Shopkeeper Wu was likely that silk merchant surnamed Wu.

The truth was coming to light, but Zhang Yue seemed unperturbed and didn’t press. “First, tell me how you ended up in this state.”

Qiao San, ashamed, replied, “Yesterday, there was no food at home, so I borrowed some money from the neighbors and went out to buy food for my wife and children. At the butcher’s stall, I tried my luck at gambling, hoping for a windfall. But luck wasn’t with me—I lost seven or eight times in a row and squandered all the money. I couldn’t go home empty-handed, so I threw a fit trying to get some scraps of meat, and that’s when the guards took me.”

No rice at home, yet still craving meat? And daring to gamble?

“Third Young Master, please, I beg you—look after my wife and children. They haven’t eaten for days and don’t know where I am. They must be beside themselves with worry by now.”

Now he’s worried?

Zhang Yue replied, “I already arranged for your family’s care yesterday. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have found you so easily today.”

“Thank you, Third Young Master! Thank you!”

Zhang Yue continued, “You need to explain everything between you and Shopkeeper Wu. How did you first meet him?”

Qiao San kowtowed repeatedly. “It’s all because of my gambling. I can’t help myself—whenever I have money, I gamble it all away. Last year, Shopkeeper Wu was staying at our shop while trading silk. That day, I lost all the money Eldest Young Master gave me for wine, and had nowhere to turn—Shopkeeper Wu lent me money so Eldest Young Master wouldn’t find out.”

“In the following visits, Shopkeeper Wu always lent me spending money. I thought he was being generous out of kindness. Until a few days ago, he came again with his assistants and six loads of raw silk.”

“At that time, Second Young Master had run away from his marriage, and Eldest Young Master was in no mood to manage the shop, so I was left in charge. That night, Shopkeeper Wu invited me to drink and eat, and told me he wanted me in on a big deal. I didn’t know what he meant, but he said our Zhang family had offended Deputy Zhao and wanted me to go along with his plan.”

“I told him the Zhang family had been good to me, and I couldn’t betray them. But then he suddenly changed his expression, saying if I didn’t obey, he’d tell the master about my gambling away the wine money, and Deputy Zhao wouldn’t spare my family. I was terrified—Deputy Zhao is not a man to cross, one flick of his finger and my whole family would be doomed.”

“I said nothing, so he told me, ‘You don’t need to do much. Just get drunk, and I’ll give you ten strings of cash afterwards.’ That night, I only remember drinking until I passed out. When I woke to the fire in the middle of the night, I managed to escape. Later, when the authorities questioned me, I was too scared and muddle-headed with fear of Deputy Zhao, even though the Zhang family had always been kind to me…”

“Afterwards, I always wanted to confess the truth to the master. When you, Third Young Master, entered the city that day, I tried to find a chance to speak, but in the end, I just didn’t have the nerve.”

Zhang Yue pondered for a moment, then asked, “Did you ever go to Shopkeeper Wu afterwards?”

“I did,” Qiao San dropped his head.

“And you never saw the ten strings of cash, did you?”

“Shopkeeper Wu’s a scoundrel—he only gave me a little over a hundred coins to get rid of me. He told me to keep my mouth shut or my family would be in danger.”

Peng Jingyi sneered, “If Shopkeeper Wu had really given you the ten strings, you’d have stayed silent for life. Come, give him a good beating.”

“No, no! Please, Third Young Master, have mercy!” Qiao San wailed, tears and snot streaming down his face. Just as Zhang Yue was about to speak, Peng Jingyi interjected, “A man like this will turn coat for profit. If you don’t beat him, he’ll likely go back on his word. You can’t go soft on him.”

Zhang Yue said, “Just don’t beat him so badly he can’t move.”

The two returned to the wine house. Peng Jingyi said, “Let me report this to my second uncle—he’ll know what to do!”

Zhang Yue replied, “Your uncle has already done so much—finding Qiao San and helping clear my family’s name. I had planned to file a complaint at the yamen and beg your lord to speak for us, but if your uncle is willing to help, I’ll be forever grateful.”

“Very well!”

Peng Jingyi told Zhang Yue to wait, then slipped behind the curtain.

By now, dusk was approaching. More singers and courtesans had gathered to serve wine, and the yamen runners acting as servers were busier than ever, stoking up the kitchen, warming wine, and making steamed buns.

Some local ruffians clustered around wealthy gamblers, currying favor in hopes of scraps. Many craned their necks, eyes bloodshot, watching others gamble; whenever a new round was called, they cheered as if it were their own winnings.

Zhang Yue stood aside for a while until Peng Jingyi emerged and led him to a side chamber by the stairway.

Inside, a slightly portly man in his fifties sat at the table, bracing his hands on the wood. At his side, a yamen runner was filtering wine from a large urn, while another warmed it and placed it in bowls on the table.

The man, without touching a single dish, drank alone, bowl after bowl.

At first glance, Zhang Yue knew this was not a man to be trifled with. All his hopes now rested on this man’s favor. Such reliance was a bitter pill to swallow.

The man looked at Zhang Yue, waved the yamen runners away, and said in a muffled voice, “What is it?”

Peng Jingyi spoke up, “Second Uncle, this is Third Young Master Zhang.”

Zhang Yue bowed deeply. “Nephew Zhang Yue greets the young lord.”

The man glanced at Zhang Yue but paid him no heed, instead asking Peng Jingyi, “How did it go?”

Peng Jingyi relayed all that Qiao San had confessed.

At last, he added, “Second Uncle, I don’t think Shopkeeper Wu was actually acting on Deputy Zhao’s orders. He just used Zhao’s power as a cover, burned up fake silk, and then went to the yamen to extort money from the Zhangs.”

Peng Cheng chuckled, “So you’ve taken to making decisions for me now?”

Peng Jingyi grinned sheepishly.

Peng Cheng looked Zhang Yue up and down, then drained another bowl of wine before setting it down and asking, “What do you plan to do next?”

Zhang Yue replied, “To answer you, young lord, the Zhang family has fallen so low I have nothing left to lose. I can only fight with everything I have.”

Peng Cheng snorted, “Foolish country bumpkin, you don’t understand a thing.”

Zhang Yue lowered his head, “I am heedless and rash, I beg your guidance.”

Peng Cheng narrowed his eyes, then suddenly slammed the table and scolded, “Your family and Deputy Zhao had already reached a settlement. Now you twist things around and try to drag both matters together—do you really take Deputy Zhao for a saint?”

But isn’t that why you’re here?

Zhang Yue, eager to show humility, replied, “Had it not been for your guidance, I would have made a grievous mistake. But Qiao San has confessed—Shopkeeper Wu has been plotting this since last year, using Deputy Zhao’s name to extort our money.”

Peng Jingyi chimed in, “Second Uncle, my brother’s already been swindled out of over two hundred strings.”

Peng Cheng took another drink. “As for the broken engagement, your Zhang family was in the wrong first. If Deputy Zhao really burned your shop, it’d be just a fair loss.”

Zhang Yue said, “Young lord, Second Brother fled the marriage more than ten days ago, but according to the case files, Shopkeeper Wu set out from Zhejiang at the same time—it’s too much of a coincidence.”

“I thought, a man of your stature would see through this merchant’s tricks at a glance.”

Peng Cheng set his bowl down. “So how do you propose to overturn the case?”

Zhang Yue answered, “When silk merchants enter the city, their goods are inspected at the gate. There have been cases in the county of wine yeast being hidden in inferior silk, so inspections are always strict—the silk must have been genuine. If Shopkeeper Wu intended to frame us, the real silk must have been hidden elsewhere.”

“From what I know, the case has been closed and the money paid, yet Shopkeeper Wu still lingers at the Huahua Monastery—he’s likely waiting to dispose of the real silk. If we follow this clue, find the real silk, and present it along with Qiao San’s testimony, the evidence will be irrefutable. Deputy Zhao’s reputation will remain intact.”

Hearing this, Peng Cheng and Peng Jingyi both looked at Zhang Yue with newfound respect.

Zhang Yue said, “Our family is willing to offer half the two hundred strings as tribute to your lordship, only begging that you help us get justice.”

Peng Cheng sneered, “To overturn a case in the yamen would look bad in public. Why should I go to such trouble for a handful of coins?”

Zhang Yue replied, “Young lord, I’ve read the case. From the fifteenth of last month to the fifteenth of next month is the busy season—the county suspends litigation for the sake of farm work. Civil cases are quietly judged by lower officials, and only after the busy season are they submitted to the magistrate.”

“By law, only after the busy season can the case be sent to the prefecture. If you help the magistrate clear this injustice, his reputation will not only remain unblemished, but he’ll also be known for righting a wrong, and have more reason to intervene in future lawsuits. Not just the magistrate—even you, young lord, will be able to weigh in on future litigation.”

Most lawsuits in the yamen were controlled by clerks like the deputies and scribes. When Chen Xiang was magistrate of Pucheng, he broke this pattern by making several clerks stand around him during hearings—“those seeking private favors could not act, and crafty old hands were powerless.” This, like the establishment of county schools, was intended to wrest power from the clerks.

In the Song dynasty, the county constable was responsible for thieves, lawsuits, and, previously, for military affairs. “Thieves” referred to catching criminals, “lawsuits” to civil cases, and “military affairs” to the authority once given to regional governors. In the Song, this was transferred to the county constable, who managed local security. But Peng the constable in Pucheng only dealt with thieves and public order; civil cases were still controlled by the clerks.

In this matter, both the magistrate and Constable Peng stood to benefit from overturning the Zhang family’s case.

Constable Peng asked, “Who told you all these yamen secrets?”

Peng Jingyi, honest as ever, replied, “I did, uncle…”

Peng Cheng said, “What would you know in such detail? Who taught you to unravel all these threads?”

“Your praise is more than I deserve,” Zhang Yue said modestly, feeling a weight lift from his heart.

But Peng Cheng retorted, “More than you deserve? And pretending to speak like an elder?”

“I wouldn’t dare,” Zhang Yue replied.

Peng Cheng finished another bowl of wine and barked, “Pour me another.”

Hearing his command, one of the yamen runners stepped forward to serve, but Peng Cheng cursed, “Filthy wretch, who asked you to pour?”

The runner hastily withdrew. Zhang Yue hesitated, then stepped forward. “Allow me, young lord.”

Peng Cheng said nothing. As Zhang Yue poured the second bowl, Peng Jingyi took over and poured another.

At this, Peng Cheng laughed heartily. “Third Young Master, you are my nephew’s friend. Though we haven’t met before, I’ve heard him speak of you. Today your family is in trouble, and my nephew brought you here, so you needn’t beg.”

“But you really have no sense—treating me as an outsider. This little case, I can overturn it with a word. Pouring this wine is thanks enough. As for the money Shopkeeper Wu swindled from your family, you’ll get every coin back. Offering half would be treating me like a stranger.”