As we go on east, we encounter a few small groups of ill-dressed and suspicious-looking persons on the road, but the measures we’ve taken are effective and they don’t bother us.  Encouragingly, we know from questioning fellow-travelers that we’re catching up with Hao Meng’s caravan.  

Three days later, evening finds us camped by the lake again, this time in the company of some dozen travelers heading the other way.  They’re a hunting party, young, well-born and convivial.  At their invitation, Yao Lin and I join them round their campfire after the evening meal.  They have news from the capital.  The war with the southern provinces isn’t going well for the new Emperor.

“They fired all the old generals and promoted a lot of new men,” one of the young men explains.  He’s sitting next to me, a courteous and handsome person.  “Of course, they haven’t any experience, whereas the southern commanders are wily old birds.  It looks like the campaign’s going to last all summer.  In the meanwhile, Dowager Empress Xu’s got the government well under control.”

Maybe they know what’s happened to Li Wei.

“Who’s Prime Minister now?” I ask, trying to sound casual.

“Name of Gu.  Former Finance Minister.  A nonentity.  Part of Xu Yating’s faction.”

“There was a Commander Gu Lim up in Qiu City.  Any relation?”

“The son,” replies my convivial neighbour.  “He was demoted after the Sixth Prince was assassinated, and attached to the command post in Border Town.  He was lucky to get away with his head – family influence no doubt.  A number of his officers lost theirs.”

“Like Li Wei, I suppose?”

“No, the Li family’s still in prison, awaiting trial.  It won’t happen for a while, though.  Not till the trouble in the south’s been cleared up.  You were in Qiu City, then?”

“Yes, with the army.” 

I'm suddenly a little suspicious and don’t want to say too much, but my neighbour exclaims, “You were part of the troop which took Qiu City?”  Everyone looks up.  “That must have been thrilling.  Such a well-planned operation!  I heard it was devised by Commander Liao Shan and the Sixth Prince himself.  And to think, alas, that the Prince is dead and the Commander a wanted man.  How the wheel of fortune turns.  But no-one's safe these days.”

There’s a general murmur of assent round the fire. 

“What's the legendary Commander like?” someone else asks.

“Brave, clever, terrible temper,” I say.  “You wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of him.”

They laugh gently.

“A crack shot with a bow and arrow, I heard,” someone else says.  “They say he can fire four arrows into a target from horseback, running.  Is it true?”

“I saw him do it.”  The memory catches me by the throat.  My neighbour lays a sympathetic hand on mine and I suddenly realize that his interest is, after all, purely personal.

“You must miss those days,” he says softly.

The touch of his hand brings home the realization of how much I miss Shan.  I raise my eyes and he sees the sudden desire in my face, not knowing that it isn’t for him.  His eyes widen and I hear him draw in his breath.

I say quietly, “Please excuse me, sir,” and sliding my hand from under his, I get up and salute the company.  Yao Lin scrambles to his feet and does likewise and together we walk away from the hospitable fire and the friendly company.  As we do so, Zhong Buo passes us, heading the other way.  He’s heard the chatter and laughter.  They invite him cordially to sit with them, and as we walk on, we hear his high-pitched voice holding forth.  Gradually the laughter dies and it’s not long before the gathering breaks up.  I make sure that the horses are safely tethered, check the wagon brakes, put out the fire and retire to my quilts.  But it’s a long time before I sleep.  Apart from this suddenly-awakened desire, about which I can do nothing given Yao Lin’s innocent presence, I’m thinking hard about the news we’ve just heard.  So that Gu person didn’t lose his head after all, more’s the pity.  Bai Ping’s stuck with him instead.   And the war’s not going well.  The southern commanders are giving Second Brother a run for his money.  And as long as the war goes on, Li Wei’s safe and so, hopefully, is Shan’s sister.

Another thought occurs.  Yao Lin has said nothing, but he’s no fool.  Maybe he’ll remember the name on the wanted poster and put two and two together.

Next day as we’re having breakfast, the hunting party gets under way, with much waving of hands and many cries of farewell.  The young man who was sitting next to me last night comes over and presses a piece of paper into my hand.  His eyes are kind.

“If you’re ever in my home town, look me up,” he says.  “Good luck.”

“And good luck to you too,” I reply.

The paper carries his name and address.  As they ride gaily off, I look after them enviously.  They’re so carefree, heading up to the mountains for a few weeks of sport and excitement.  I envy them their lightheartedness.  For me, it’s going to be another slow tedious day.

In fact, it’s much worse than that, because Zhong Buo’s a pain in the ass from the moment he appears.  It’s as if scorpions have got inside his clothes.  He refuses to eat the porridge Lei Qing has prepared.

“Stupid, useless girl,” he rages, “After all the money I’ve spent on you, you can’t even cook breakfast.  You’re lucky my nephew’s prepared to marry you because nobody else would.”

Yao Lin protests.  “The porridge is perfectly all right, Sir Zhong,”

“I don't need your comments, you impertinent boy,”  Zhong Buo turns on Yao Lin, who gapes at him in surprise.  “The way you’ve been brought up, I don’t want my stepdaughter to have anything to do with you.”  He flings the bowl of porridge down on the ground.  “Make me another bowl,” he orders.

“That’s enough!”  The words have been uttered in my Imperial voice and all three of them gape at me for a moment.  “Finish your breakfast and let’s get on the road,” I say. “Sir Zhong, I suggest you eat what’s on offer.  It’s a long time till noon.”

He flushes an unattractive shade of red.  For a moment he stares viciously at me and I think he’s going to retort, but instead he turns away, with that flip of his sleeves that’s almost a tic.

“What’s got into him?” Yao Lin says wonderingly.

“He wants – he tried - to force himself on my mother last night.” Lei Qing says with her head down.  “I prevented him.  She’s not supposed to – she can’t…”

“I should think not,” I say.  “Maybe we could get Sir Yao to have a word.”

They both look at me hopefully.

I mention the matter to Yao Yuhan, who invites Zhong Buo to eat the midday meal with him.  Lei Qing, Yao Lin and I eat by the fire, not exactly eavesdropping, but straining our ears to catch any snippets of conversation.  Our efforts are in vain, alas, but we see Zhong Buo emerge looking somewhat chastened.  That evening, as I’m treating Yao Yuhan’s legs, I ask, “What did you tell him?”

“I think I might have mentioned that having intercourse with a woman in the three months after a miscarriage might result in impotence.”

I blink.  “That’s inventive.”

He smiles, but the smile soon leaves his face.  “I’m coming round to Ah-Lin’s ungentlemanly assessment of Sir Zhong.  He treats those women like chattels.  Heaven knows what goes on inside that wagon.  And no-one has the right to interfere.”

“He’s taking his frustration out on all of us.”

“He thinks he ought to be in charge.  It galls him to have to follow anyone’s instructions, let alone those of someone as young as you.”

We’re interrupted by the sound of raised voices outside.  Yao Lin bursts into the wagon.  “Young Master Zhao, you’d better come.”

I jump out of the wagon, my hands still sticky with the fragrant oil I’ve been using for the massage.  Zhong Buo has his stepdaughter by the arm and is slapping her repeatedly, shouting something I can’t hear.  The girl’s other arm is up to protect her face and she’s trying to pull away.  I reach them in four strides, grab Zhong Buo’s raised hand and twist the wrist as hard as I can.  Zhong Buo cries out in pain and staggers back, staring at me in anger and resentment.

“She’s my stepdaughter,” he cries, “I can treat her how I please.  You have no right to stop me.”

“If you hit her again,” I say, putting as much menace as I can into my voice, “I’ll break your arm.”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“Try me.”

“That’s it,” he says furiously, “We’ll be travelling alone tomorrow.  I’m not putting up with these insults any more.”

“We should be the ones saying that,” I say, equally angry.  “Haven’t you learned anything?  If you travel alone, you’ll be putting all your lives at risk.”

“When we get to the next town,” he spits out, “I’ll report you to the nearest magistrate, see if I don’t.”

And with that, he stalks off and climbs into his wagon.

“Are you hurt?” I ask Lei Qing.  Her face is red where it’s been slapped, but she shakes her head and bows.  “Thank you for helping me, Young Master Zhao.”

Yao Lin says anxiously, “Do you think he’ll really report you to a magistrate?”

"I hope not.”  I hope not indeed.  Anything that draws attention to me might be very dangerous. 

My hope proves unfounded. 

Two days later, we reach the next town, a pretty cluster of handsome buildings in tree-lined streets.  The citizens here are obviously doing very well.  They’re well-fed and well-dressed, and there’s a general air of prosperity and contentment.  But the morning after we arrive, Yao Lin and I are tending to the horses when we hear Zhong Buo’s voice raised in an aggrieved tone.

“That’s him!  He’s the one who assaulted me.”

I turn to see Zhong Buo pointing at me.  He’s accompanied by a thin individual in a magistrate’s robe and cap.  Three men-at-arms are with them.

Fuck.  He really meant it, the asshole.

“What are you talking about?”  Yao Lin bursts out.  “It was you who assaulted Ah-Qing.”

“Don’t you dare talk about my stepdaughter in that familiar way,” Zhong Buo snaps.  He turns to the thin man.  “What are you waiting for?  Arrest him!”

“Wait a minute….” I begin, but two of the soldiers stump forward and seize me by the arms.

“Take him to prison!”  the magistrate orders.  Zhong Buo looks at me with a triumphant smile.

I start to struggle, but a third soldier steps forward and slams his fist right into my midriff.  Tears come to my eyes as the breath leaves my body.  The blow tugs on my barely-healed wound and I feel a sharp pain in my side.  My knees buckle. 

Yao Lin leaps forward, shouting, “He’s injured, you can’t treat him like this.”

“I can do what I like,” the magistrate says.  “Stand aside.”

Through my pain, I hear a new voice say, very sharply indeed, “Stop this immediately!  What’s going on here?”

The grip on my arms slackens.  I fall to my knees and Yao Lin darts in to support me.  Through my watering eyes, I see Zhong Buo and the magistrate turn round.  Two men walk into view.  The one in the lead is stocky, short, but with a presence that overcomes his lack of height.   He too is a magistrate and I see from the insignia on his robe that he outranks the thin man.  Behind him is a large person in leather armour, with the short hair of the professional soldier.

“I’m waiting for an explanation,” says the short man curtly.

The thin magistrate is flustered.  “Honourable Chief Magistrate, this gentleman has accused that person of assault.  I was arresting him.”

“Without investigating the case?” the Chief Magistrate enquires.  “Does that perhaps have anything to do with the bribe you were seen taking half an hour ago, Dong Qiu?”

Dong Qiu’s jaw drops and Zhong Buo’s face turns the colour of uncooked pastry.

The Chief Magistrate says, ”Search him!”

By the way the soldiers go about their search, I can tell that Dong Qiu isn’t a popular man.  They find a money-bag in one of his sleeves, which they hand to the Chief Magistrate.

“Well, this can be added to the little hoard we just found in your office,” the Chief Magistrate observes.

Dong Qiu falls to his knees.  “Please forgive me, Honourable Sir.  I’m not a well man.  My wife’s just had a baby and there are medical bills.  Show mercy.  Please forgive me.”  He bangs his forehead on the ground in desperation.

“Take him to prison,” says the Chief Magistrate.  He turns to Zhong Buo.  “Leaving aside for the moment the fact that you bribed a government official, I understand you have a complaint?”

Zhong Buo’s looking panicky, but at this, he bows, points at me and says aggressively, “This person assaulted me two days ago.  I demand redress.”

By this time, I’ve managed to struggle to my feet, with Yao Lin’s help.  The Chief Magistrate looks at me and says, “My name is Xian Long and I’m Chief Magistrate of Orchard Town.  Your name?”

“Zhao Jing, sir.”

“What’s your side of the story?”

“Sir Zhong was slapping his stepdaughter and I grabbed him by the wrist to stop him.  That was it.”

“That’s exactly right,” Yao Lin burst in, “I was there.  I saw it."

“I have the right to chastise my stepdaughter if I wish,” Zhong Buo blusters.  “And outsiders have no right to interfere.”

“Where's this stepdaughter?” enquires Xian Long.

Lei Qing comes forward and bows.  Her face is still a little swollen.  The magistrate’s eyebrows shoot up at the sight of her clothes, but he says nothing.

“Greeting the Honourable Chief Magistrate,” she says, “What Young Master Zhao says is correct.”

My midriff’s very painful.  I carefully feel the side where my wound is, wincing.  Fortunately, there’s no blood on my fingers.  Xian Long’s eyes are on my face.  Then they switch away suddenly.  I follow his gaze and see, to my surprise, Madam Zhong coming down the steps of her wagon.  We all gape, but she comes forward with quiet poise and bows to Xian Long.

“Greeting the Honourable Chief Magistrate, I’m Sir Zhong’s wife and Young Miss Lei’s mother.  What Young Master Zhao said was correct.  Furthermore, my husband, daughter and I all owe our lives to Young Master Zhao.”

“It seems that your husband doesn’t know the meaning of gratitude,” Xian Long observes.  “It appears to me that there’s no case to answer.  I apologize to Young Master Zhao for the ill-treatment.  Are you well, Young Master?”

“I’ll live,” I say.  “Thank you, sir.”

“As for you,” he turns his eyes to Zhong Buo, “You bribed a government official and wasted government time.  Since you’re not a citizen of this town, I’ll refrain from putting you in prison, but you’ll pay a fine and I advise you not to try anything like this again.  I’ll send someone for the money.  Good day to you all.”

As they all leave, Zhong Buo throws a hate-filled glance at me, stamps over to his wagon and disappears inside. 

Yao Lin says, “Phew.  That was a bad moment.  Are you all right, Ah-Jing?” He flushes, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be disrespectful.”

“It’s all right.  You can call me Ah-Jing as long as I can call you Ah-Lin.”

He grins.  “No problem.  Gosh, what a relief things turned out all right.  What do you think will happen to that other magistrate?”

“Something very nasty, I hope.”

I become aware that Madam Zhong has approached and is standing nearby.  I bow and wince as my brutalized muscles protest.  “Thank you for standing up for me, Madam Zhong,  I’m very glad to see you up and about again.”

She really is tiny, she hardly comes up to my chest.  Her bones are like a bird’s.  She bows in return.  “I apologize for my husband’s behavior.  And I thank you for protecting my daughter.”

“My pleasure.  I hope this hasn’t made things more difficult for you.”

“On the contrary,” she says, “Things have become much clearer.”

She bows, smiles at Yao Lin and moves back to her own wagon. 

A moment later we hear Zhong Buo’s voice raised in anger.  It goes on for a short while, then her voice cuts him off.  We can’t hear what she says, but it quietens him down. 

“We’d better tell Dad what’s happened,” Yao Lin says.

Yao Yuhan has heard much of what’s been going on and is very disturbed by it.  “Young Master Zhao, are you all right?  Your wound?”

I loosen my clothing to take a proper look.  The bandages are unstained.  “It hasn’t opened up.  But my stomach will be black and blue tomorrow.  I don’t think there’s any internal damage.  I'm just sore.”

“Take a rest while the noon meal's being prepared.”

I spread out my quilts and lie down gratefully.