They crossed the river by a narrow stone bridge. A side path led to a low thatched roof that was partly visible in the midst of the green foliage. The path took them through dense undergrowth to a crudely made bamboo gate.
Inside they found a small garden. On both sides stood flowering plants of well-nigh a man's height. The judge thought that he had never seen such a profusion of magnificent flowers.
The plaster walls of the small house were overgrown with vine; they seemed to sag under the load of the thatched roof, green with moss. A few rickety wooden steps led up to a single door of unpainted boards. It stood ajar.
Judge Dee meant to call out that there were visitors but somehow or other he felt reluctant to break the quiet atmosphere. He pushed aside the plants that grew by the side of the house.
He saw a rustic verandah made of bamboo poles. A very old man clad in a ragged robe was watering a row of potted flowers. He had a large round straw hat on his head. The delicate fragrance of orchids hung in the air.
Judge Dee pushed the branches further apart and called out: "Is Master Crane Robe at home?"
The old man turned round. The lower half of his face was concealed by a thick moustache and a long white beard, the rest was covered by the broad rim of the hat. He did not answer but made a vague gesture in the direction of the house.
Then he put down his watering pot and disappeared behind the house without saying a word.
Judge Dee was not very pleased with this casual reception. He curtly told Sergeant-Hoong to wait outside.
As the sergeant sat down on the bench near the gate, Judge Dee ascended the steps and entered the house.
He found himself in a large, empty room. The wooden floor was bare and so were the white plaster walls. The furniture consisted of a rough wooden table and two footstools in front of the low, broad window, and a bamboo table against the back wall. It looked like the interior of a peasant's house. But everything was scrupulously clean.
There was no sign of the host. Judge Dee felt annoyed and began to regret that he had come all this way.
With a sigh he sat down on one of the footstools and looked out of the window.
He was struck by the fine view on the rows of flowering plants that stood on racks in the verandah outside. Rare orchids blossomed in porcelain and earthenware bowls; their fragrance seemed to pervade the entire room.
As he was sitting there Judge Dee felt the immense tranquillity of his surroundings slowly soothe his harassed mind. Listening to the soft humming of an invisible bee, time seemed to be standing still.
Judge Dee's irritation evaporated. He placed his elbows on the table and leisurely looked around. He noticed that above the bamboo table a pair of paper scrolls had been stuck up on the plaster wall. They bore a couplet written in powerful calligraphy.
Judge Dee idly scanned the lines:
"There are but two roads that lead to the gate of
Eternal Life:
Either one bores his head in the mud like a worm,
or like a dragon flies up high into the sky."
The judge reflected that these lines were rather unusual; they could be interpreted in more than one way.
The couplet was signed and sealed but from where he sat the judge could not read the small characters.
A faded blue screen at the back was pulled aside and the old man entered.
He had changed his ragged robe for a loose gown of brown cloth and his grey head was uncovered. He carried a steaming kettle in his hand.
Judge Dee hastily rose and bowed deeply. The old man nodded casually, and leisurely sat down on the other footstool, with his back to the window. After a moment's hesitation the judge sat down too.
The old man's face was all wrinkled up like the skin of a crab apple. But his lips were red like cinnabar. As his host bowed his head while pouring the boiling water in the tea pot his long white eyebrows screened his eyes like a curtain so that the judge could not see them.
Judge Dee waited respectfully for the old man to speak first.
When he had replaced the lid on the tea pot his host folded his arms in his sleeves and looked straight at the judge. Under his bushy brows his piercing eyes were keen like those of a hawk.
He spoke in a deep, sonorous voice:
"Excuse this old man's remissness. I rarely entertain visitors!"
As he spoke the judge noticed that his teeth were even and of a pearly white.
Judge Dee answered:
"I beg your forgiveness for this sudden visit. You…"
"Ha, Yoo!", the old man interrupted him. "So you are a member of the famous Yoo family!"
"No", the judge corrected him hastily, "my family name is Dee. I…"
"Yes, yes", his host mused, "it is a long time since I saw my old friend Yoo. Let me see now, it must be eight years since he died. Or was it nine?"
Judge Dee reflected that the old man was apparently in his dotage. But since his host's mistake seemed to lead him straight to the object of his visit, he did not again try to correct it.
The old man poured the tea.
"Yes", he continued pensively, "a man of great purpose, the old Governor Yoo. Why, it must be seventy years ago now that we studied together in the capital. Yes, he was a man of great purpose who laid his plans far in the future. He was going to eradicate all evil, he was going to reform the Empire…"
The old man's voice trailed off. He nodded a few times and sipped his tea.
Judge Dee said diffidently:
"I am greatly interested in Governor Yoo's life here in Lan-fang."
His host did not seem to have heard him. He slowly went on sipping his tea.
The judge also brought the cup to his lips. After the first sip he knew that this was the most delicious tea he had ever tasted. Its mellow aroma seemed to pervade his entire body.
MASTER CRANE ROBE AND JUDGE DEE
His host said suddenly:
"The water was taken from where the brook springs from the rocks. Last night I placed the tea leaves in the bud of a chrysanthemum. I took them out this morning when the flower opened in the sun. These leaves are saturated with the essence of the morning dew."
Then, without any transition, he continued:
"Yoo set out on his official career and I went away to roam over the Empire. He became a prefect, then a governor. His name rang through the marble halls of the Imperial palace. He persecuted the wicked, protected and encouraged the good, and went a long, long way towards reforming the Empire. Then, one day, when he had nearly realized all his ambitions, he found that he had failed to reform his own son.
He resigned from all his high offices and came to live here a life of retirement, tending his fields and his garden. So we met again, after more than fifty years. We had reached the same goal by different roads."
The old man suddenly chuckled softly like a child as he added:
"The only difference was that one way was long and tortuous, the other short and straight!"
Here his host paused. Judge Dee debated with himself whether he should ask for some explanation of that last remark. But before he could speak his host went on:
"Shortly before he passed away, he and I were discussing this very point. Then he wrote down that couplet on the wall there. Go and admire his calligraphy!"
Judge Dee obediently rose and went to look at the paper scrolls on the wall. Now he could read the signature: "Penned by Yoo Shou-chien of the Abode of Tranquillity." The judge knew now for certain that the testament they had found in Mrs. Yoo's scroll picture was a forgery. The signature resembled the one added to the alleged last will, but it was definitively not the same hand. Judge Dee slowly stroked his beard. Many things had become clear to him.