WHAT KIND OF PERSON would tell someone they're contaminated the minute they saw them? Gao Yi's frowned. But fear quickly got the better of him: "Why do you say so?"
"In a fortunate coincidence, I've learned the art of mysticism from a young age," said Cui Buqu. "I can read auras and physiognomy. The moment I entered, I saw a black aura curling around your forehead. I fear you may have encountered some dark influence yesterday."
Cui Buqu was being far too familiar. But after the scare Gao Yi had gotten last night, he both desperately needed someone to confide in and lacked the presence of mind to be suspicious. He hemmed and hawed, but ultimately couldn't resist asking, "Did you, too, encounter something strange last night?"
"I did." Cui Buqu nodded. "To tell the truth, it's for this very reason that we came to the magistrate so early this morning."
"Tell me, quickly!"
Cui Buqu sketched a rough summary of the ghostly wailing they'd heard the night before. Interestingly, his story made no mention of Feng Xiao's thunderous shouting, nor the basin of water he'd used to wash his feet.
Color drained from Gao Yi's face. "Could you make out what the ghost was saying?"
"It was crying about a horrific death—some kind of injustice. Did the magistrate hear it last night as well? The ghost's wailing?"
Now that he knew he wasn't alone, many of Gao Yi's doubts evaporated into relief. Although he was still unlucky, he was at least fortunate to have another witness backing him up. He lowered his voice and said cryptically, "I didn't just hear it. I saw it!"
Cui Buqu and Feng Xiao glanced at each other in surprise. "What did it look like? Was it really the ghost of a woman?"
"I didn't have a clear view. It was dressed in white, hair unbound and scattered, very thin and tall. I couldn't say if the voice was male or female. It appeared right next to my bed, but the instant I called for someone, it disappeared. Every time I lay down, its voice would ring in my ears, sounding both close and distant, crying about its death and begging me for vengeance."
Feng Xiao grabbed Cui Buqu's sleeve, eyes wide with alarm. "Husband, it didn't spare even the magistrate. Oh, perhaps we'll encounter the ghost again tonight. Husband, husband, should we change inns?"
"Now it makes sense," Cui Buqu said, solemn. "I performed a divination before we left, and the reading was 'calamitous.' It seems it was not merely an ill omen, but a harbinger of the thousand weeping ghosts."
Just the words made Gao Yi's skin crawl. "What are 'the thousand weeping ghosts'?"
"If a great injustice occurred twenty years or so ago, when there were no court officials in the city for the victims to appeal to, the resentment will have accumulated with the passage of years. The energy is concentrated around Duan Qihu, I could sense it. This is all because we went to the Xing family's banquet—we were contaminated by the heavy resentment around Duan Qihu. That's why it's become so easy to see negative forces like your aura, Lord Magistrate!"
In Gao Yi's opinion, this vengeful ghost was too inconsiderate. "Each debt has its debtor. If it wants revenge, it should seek out its nemesis. What's the point of disturbing our rest? It's simply not reasonable!"
Feng Xiao resumed his role as the straight man. "Husband, if you're right, does that mean things will get worse?"
"Undoubtedly," said Cui Buqu. "Each day the case is ignored is another day the resentment will deepen. Look at last night—it didn't merely appear at the magistrate's mansion. Even the inn we were staying at encountered the ghost. The luck of others in the city is bound to be affected if this continues. Once that happens, the thousand weeping ghosts will descend."
One of Cui Buqu's points concerned Gao Yi greatly. "What happens if one's luck is affected?"
"In mild cases, misfortune will follow you everywhere. In severe ones, you'll be plagued by evil spirits and become confused and disoriented. For merchants, their business will founder; for officials, their career will suffer setbacks."
Feng Xiao gasped. "Husband, won't we be struck by bad luck as well? We're merely passersby; whom have we provoked? Hurry, let us leave the city while we can. This isn't our home; we must leave them to suffer their own bad luck."
Gao Yi stared as Feng Xiao continued, "Husband, I'm so frightened. If this carries on, will there be a night I wake up and see a ghost sleeping beside me instead of your dear self?"
Cui Buqu shot him a furtive glare. Enough; don't overdo it. Any more is overkill.
Look how scared he is, said Feng Xiao's answering look. So I've embellished a little; this way he'll be too spooked to sleep tonight.
Gao Yi didn't notice their silent conversation; he was scared witless. Though he remained outwardly wary, in his heart he was largely convinced.
Someone like Duan Qihu, who'd pulled himself up by his bootstraps, might not have been so gullible. But Gao Yi had always believed in divination and the idea of good and ill omens. Half the city knew this incompetent magistrate would cower in his house the entire day if his coins showed bad fortune. This time, he'd seen a ghost with his own two eyes and hadn't gotten a wink of sleep because of it. Now that he'd been frightened again by Feng Xiao and Cui Buqu, his nerves were shot.
Judging they'd applied enough heat, Cui Buqu asked, "Has the magistrate considered investigating the case so the victim may rest in peace? The best course is to resolve the matter once and for all."
Gao Yi smiled bitterly. "You speak as if it's easy. Where would I start, and whom would I investigate? Surely you don't suggest I knock on Duan Qihu's door and ask him if he's ever killed anyone? The case is twenty years old at least. I've only been in Qiemo a few years. I don't even have a file on the case, let alone a corpse."
"The hauntings seem to have started at the inn's dry well. We might find something if we send someone down to search it. There are skilled coroners capable of extracting clues from bare bones. Lord Magistrate, this matter affects not only the luck of the city, but your own personal fortunes. You don't want to remain a county magistrate here for the rest of your life, do you?"
"What do you mean?" Gao Yi furrowed his brow.
"Take this opportunity to investigate Duan Qihu, then you can strike a blow against Xing Mao and eliminate both major factions of Qiemo in one fell swoop," Cui Buqu explained. "You can free yourself from being a puppet magistrate while recording a great achievement. You might even be promoted: an achievement of this magnitude could raise you to a marquis."
Gao Yi shook his head. He'd been here for several years, long enough to understand how deeply Duan Qihu and Xing Mao's factions were rooted. Unless the court sent an army to crush them, he'd never eliminate either of these men's influence.
"At yesterday's banquet, Xing Mao's subordinates were exposed trying to poison Duan Qihu. Xing Mao denied his involvement in the firmest terms. But do you think Duan Qihu believes him? Xing Mao certainly knows he doesn't. To protect himself, he'll make the first move to consolidate his power. Magistrate Gao, how do you know you won't be his next target?"
"Stop talking, stop talking, I can't do it…" Gao Yi fell silent as realization struck. When he spoke next, his face was dark with suspicion. "You're not the nephew of the king of Kucha. Who are you?"
Kucha had never involved itself in Qiemo's affairs. Why would the king's nephew encourage Gao Yi to overthrow Xing Mao and Duan Qihu?
"It's true, I am not from Kucha," Cui Buqu said coldly. "Gao Yi, your death is nigh. You still think you can stand to the side?" He took out a small, lacquered wood seal and threw it down before Gao Yi. "Look at this."
Gao Yi picked it up doubtfully. When he saw what it was, he started.
Officials who held multiple positions commonly commissioned two- or even three-sided seals for ease of use. The seal Cui Buqu had tossed before Gao Yi had more than six sides.
This seal was the genuine article. Cui Buqu didn't like to expose his position in the Zuoyue Bureau, but like Feng Xiao, he held a fair number of other titles. Altogether, it made an intimidating impression.
Two of the seal's sides were engraved with Glorious Grand Master and Imperial Censor. The former had no true authority—it was essentially an honorary title—but it was one the emperor granted to officials with great achievements. The latter title of imperial censor had been established only the previous year. Its rank wasn't high, so not many were familiar with it. But Gao Yi had heard from his friends in the capital that the role of this position was to impeach corrupt and tyrannical officials, as well as manage ceremonial affairs for the Three Departments and Six Ministries. Its power and authority were unprecedented. Though an imperial censor had to bow before many officials, the authority he wielded was enough to frighten anyone.
The title of glorious grand master was of the third rank, while the imperial censor was merely of the eighth. But an official's highest-ranking title was what mattered; when Gao Yi met Cui Buqu, he should be the one to bow.
But something was still off. This was a small border town. What privileged minister of the court would come here and subject themselves to the sand? Why would a third-rank official pop up in the middle of the desert?
"I'm investigating an important case and stopped here along the way. To remain discreet, I traveled under the guise of the king of Kucha's nephew. Gao Yi, after seeing this seal, do you still want to question me?"
Cui Buqu had already deceived Gao Yi once; naturally the magistrate was still on his guard. "Dare I ask Your Excellency what case you are investigating? What does it have to do with me?"
His message was clear: even if Cui Buqu was an imperial censor, he couldn't order Gao Yi around.
Cui Buqu looked at him coolly. "The imperial court had ordered me to Suyab in the Western Khaganate. Do you understand now?"
Gao Yi was not ignorant of the court's many disagreements with the Göktürks over the past two years. Any mission related to the Göktürks must be one of great importance. He felt a chill run through him as comprehension dawned.
Feng Xiao gave the table before him a tap, startling Gao Yi from his thoughts.
He didn't use much force—Gao Yi didn't hear a sound. But the entire table crumbled to sawdust, drifting to the ground and heaping upon the cattail mat. "Magistrate Gao," said Feng Xiao gently. "What do you think of my martial arts?"
Gao Yi swallowed hard and squeaked out, "Exceptional."
Feng Xiao smiled. "Who could possibly order a martial artist of my caliber around? Is there anywhere I can't go? Perhaps you think we're petty conmen. Wouldn't such a thing be unworthy of my talents? If Cui-langjun isn't who he claims, would I be at his beck and call?"
Cui Buqu's official's seal had gone a long way toward convincing Gao Yi. Under Feng Xiao's intimidation, he cast away the last of his doubts. Gao Yi stood and cupped his hands. "How should I address you, sir?"
"Cui, written with the characters Shan and Zhui. Cui Buqu."
"Cui-langjun," said Gao Yi. "You are a high-ranking official charged with heavy responsibilities. Perhaps it's not my place to ask, but your mission seems to have little to do with Duan Qihu's case."
"My business indeed has nothing to do with Qiemo. But I don't wish to come back on my return trip to find our court-appointed magistrate is dead and Qiemo has become the new Kingdom of Shanshan."
Gao Yi chuckled dryly, waving the remark off. "Don't say something so frightening."
"Fool! Do you know the Xing residence conceals more than five thousand sets of armor, and that aside from their estate, they have two granaries and treasuries hidden elsewhere in the city? These combined are more than enough to seize Qiemo."
Cui Buqu had wanted to slam his palms on the table to intimidate him further—but alas, it had been smashed to dust by Feng Xiao moments ago. He raised his voice instead, silently cursing Feng Xiao.
Gao Yi was skeptical. "How can you be sure?"
"The court has been establishing secret bases of operations within Qiemo to gather intelligence for years," Cui Buqu said coldly. "Though we've yet to pinpoint the location of the two granaries, we've confirmed the existence of the armor. Yet even now you deceive yourself into thinking Xing Mao won't mobilize troops. Or do you fancy that if he does, he'll let you go?"
If Xing Mao didn't wish to enter open hostilities with the Sui dynasty, he could simply bundle Gao Yi up and send him out of the city. Gao Yi might retain his life, but it'd be impossible for him to remain an official. The court would most likely indict him: losing one's nation's territory was a grave crime.
Gao Yi blanched.
He thought back to the fierce confrontation between Duan Qihu and Xing Mao at yesterday's banquet and the surging undercurrents beneath. He thought of the ill readings his divinations had yielded over the past few days. He even thought of his ghost-sighting the previous night, as well as the "thousand weeping ghosts" Cui Buqu had mentioned a moment ago. His thoughts tangled into a mess, and he was unable to make up his mind.
Cui Buqu had long known Gao Yi was a useless and talentless man. Any other day, he'd have pushed this man aside and simply rolled up his sleeves to do the job himself. But right then, their reinforcements had yet to arrive. The few people they had weren't enough. Ineffectual as he was, Gao Yi was a high-ranking official of the court, and behind him stood law and due process. His authority would make their task easier—as long as Gao Yi could be induced to cooperate.
"But…even if Xing Mao is hiding armor, it doesn't necessarily mean he's thinking about rising up, right? His ancestors were the kings of Shanshan; that armor is his inheritance. Besides, these borderlands are always in turmoil. We're also close to the Khaganate here; he might just want to protect himself…" Gao Yi had begun to come up with all kinds of excuses for Xing Mao.
"I've heard," replied Cui Buqu, "that after the third round of drinks at Xing Mao's banquets, there's often a performance of 'The Song of the Great Wind' by Emperor Gaozu of Han: 'The great wind rises, oh! The clouds are driven away. I return to my native land, oh! Now the world is beneath my sway.'"
"That song has spread everywhere and is sung among the people," Gao Yi replied feebly. "Xing Mao is familiar with Han culture—he's practically a Han himself. I'm sure he doesn't mean anything by it."
Cui Buqu sneered. "I've heard another story. The year Magistrate Gao arrived and took office, Xing Mao and Duan Qihu each sent you a messenger: one bearing a white fish and the other a precious blade."
The metaphor of "a white dragon in fish's clothes," used to describe nobility disguised as commoners, was a well-known one, tracing back Liu Xiang's Garden of Stories from the Han dynasty, which depicted Wu Zixu's admonition to the King of Wu during the Spring and Autumn Period. Xing Mao's message was plain. Meanwhile, the precious blade was Duan Qihu's threat, warning him that he shouldn't dream of meddling here. The mightiest dragons couldn't defeat a snake in its own territory; even if he were a Sui official, Duan Qihu would have no problem slitting his throat.
Gao Yi was well-versed in the classics; he'd understood at once what these objects implied. As for Duan Qihu's threat, it was arrogant, but there was no real need to be afraid. The man hadn't been proclaiming his ambitions to Gao Yi, only testing his reaction.
But Gao Yi was a coward. He'd reported Xing Mao's ambitions in a memorial, and that was the extent of it. The court had no energy to spare for the city, and thus he had comfortably whiled away his life in Qiemo. He'd never considered contending with Duan Qihu and Xing Mao to try and take back the city.
Xing Mao, on the other hand, learned much about Gao Yi's character from this incident. He grew ever more unrestrained and didn't take Gao Yi seriously at all.
If there was a ranking for the biggest slackers in the world, Gao Yi's name would undoubtedly appear. He might even make the top three. He was only lucky he wasn't Cui Buqu's subordinate—the lord chief would have had Qiao Xian toss him into a river as fish food long ago.
Gao Yi hadn't expected Cui Buqu would know these details. Embarrassed, he smiled bitterly and pleaded his case: "Cui-langjun is wise. It's not that I don't wish to help. Your lordship has been here for just a few days, but you must have seen it yourself. Xing Mao is powerful; Duan Qihu is imperious. Rather than putting ourselves in the middle, we should wait for them to clash, then reap the benefits!"
The idea in itself wasn't unreasonable, but Xing Mao and Duan Qihu were no fools. Would they really sit on their hands while Gao Yi profited from their conflict?
On top of being as timid as a mouse, Gao Yi was also stubborn and inflexible. Cui Buqu had no interest in continuing to convince him. "It's fine if you don't want to get involved," he said, rising. "I'll take charge, but it must be in your name."
Gao Yi opened his mouth to refuse and met Cui Buqu's frigid gaze. The words froze on his lips.
Feng Xiao was unruffled. "Gao Yi, if you're to drink, drink of the victory wine, not the poisoned cup. If we wished to harm you, we need only say the word. But we're all officials of the same court. We must have somewhat of an alliance, mustn't we? If nothing changes, you'll be haunted by vengeful ghosts day in and day out. Long before Xing Mao kills you, you'll exhaust your vital yang energy and perish."
For Gao Yi, being haunted by ghosts was a more terrifying prospect than getting offed by Xing Mao. He began to waver. Eventually he said, "I'm feeling unwell at the moment, so I'll be closing my door to guests. Cui-langjun's plans are his own."
In other words, he would give tacit approval to Cui Buqu's actions.
After they left the county office, Feng Xiao turned to Cui Buqu. "How did you know a ghost would get him to compromise?"
"When I was preparing to head to Liugong City two months ago, I had someone pull every file pertaining to the route between Liugong City and the Western Khaganate. That included one on the cowardly Qiemo County Magistrate who still believes in divination."
Feng Xiao gave Cui Buqu an appraising look. Two months ago, Cui Buqu had already investigated everything he thought he might need and memorized Gao Yi's proclivities and weaknesses. And as soon he set foot in Qiemo, he'd begun to think of ways to provoke Duan Qihu and Xing Mao.
"Your admiration is flattering but unnecessary. I simply thought several steps ahead of you." Cui Buqu's tone was light, his smile reserved.
Feng Xiao shook his head. "No, I was just thinking it's little wonder you're shorter than me and in such poor health. You spend all your energy plotting against others."
The corner of Cui Buqu's mouth quirked up. "It's true I'm in poor health. Maybe I can't bounce around aimlessly all day like you do, but are you positive you're taller than me? Aren't the soles of your shoes thicker than most?"
Feng Xiao's smile was enigmatic. "I know I'm taller than you," he said. "Because I'm longer."
Cui Buqu stared at Feng Xiao. For a few seconds, he said nothing.
Feng Xiao waved his handkerchief, putting on a bashful act. "Why is your lordship looking at me like that? Your wife is so scared, her little heart is pitter-pattering away!"
As he sat silent, Cui Buqu recalled: back when he'd fallen into Feng Xiao's hands and been poisoned with incense of helplessness, he'd spent day and night in a dazed slumber. The maids must have changed his clothes, and he was sure Feng Xiao had seen him then. This man's face was thicker than the Great Wall; he didn't know the meaning of the word shame.
Cui Buqu was beyond numb to it all. He kept his face blank and brushed right past the comment. "Tonight, let's make sure Magistrate Gao runs into the ghost again."
"Are you so sure Xing Mao will make his move?"
"If our surmise is correct, there are two factions who wish Duan Qihu dead." Cui Buqu spoke confidently. "One is the third steward and Yuxiu, and the other was responsible for the poisoned wine. The third steward may share an unknown connection with the poisoner. Xing Mao is also looking for his chance—so we'll fan the flames and make the threat of this 'thousand weeping ghosts' even more explosive. Xing Mao has waited so many years; he's long since grown impatient. He's certain to make his move!"