Suddenly the judge understood. On the veranda she had told him that she was to become the wife of a magistrate who was also a poet, and wealthy. And Lo was a poet, and said to have ample private means! Amusedly he reflected that evidently it was his amorous colleague who, during the investigation of the suicide, had become involved with the Queen Flower, and in an unguarded moment had rashly promised to redeem and marry her. That explained his precipitate, nearly stealthy departure. Urgent official business, forsooth! The genial magistrate must soon have discovered that he had chosen for playmate an ambitious and ruthless woman, who would not hesitate to put pressure on him, utilizing the fact that he had allowed himself to become intimate with an important witness in a court-case. No wonder he was eager to leave the island! But the confounded fool had left him, his colleague, in a most embarrassing position. Of course Feng and the others knew all about Lo's infatuation, and therefore had invited Autumn Moon. Probably the dinner was even meant to celebrate Magistrate Lo's buying the girl out! Hence their consternation when they realized that Lo had taken to his heels. They must have understood also that Lo had thrown dust in his eyes, they must take him, solemnly created an Assessor, for an incredible fool! Well, he must try to brazen it out.
He bestowed an amiable smile on the courtesan and said: 'Just now I heard that it was the famous Academician Lee Lien who killed himself because of you. How truly the Ancients observed that talented and handsome young men always fall in love with talented and beautiful women!'
Autumn Moon gave him a sidelong glance. She said, more friendly now:
'Thank you for the compliment. Yes, Lee was a charming fellow, in his own way. He gave me a vial of perfume as a parting present, in an envelope on which he had written a rather sweet poem. Came over to my pavilion specially to present it to me, on the very night the poor man did away with himself. He knew I like expensive scents!' She sighed, then went on pensively: 'I should have encouraged him a bit, after all. He was very considerate, and generous too. I didn't get round yet to opening the envelope, I wonder what perfume it is! He knew I like musk, or Indian sandal essence. I asked him about it when he was taking his leave, but he wouldn't tell me, just said: "See that it reaches its destination!" — meaning me! He would have his little jokes! What perfume do you think goes best with my type, sandal or musk?'
Judge Dee started on an elaborate compliment, but he was interrupted by the sounds of a scuffle on the other side of the table. Silver Fairy, who was filling the old curio-dealer's beaker, now made a frantic attempt to push his hands away from her bosom. The wine spilled on his robe.
'You clumsy fool!' Autumn Moon shouted at her. 'Can't you be more careful? And your hair-do is all awry! Go at once to the dressing-room and fix yourself up!'
The Queen Flower eyed the frightened girl speculatively as she scurried to the door. Turning to the judge, she asked coyly:
'Wouldn't you pour me some wine? As a special favour?'
Filling her cup, he noticed that she was looking flushed, the strong wine seemed to be having some effect on her at last. She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue and smiled softly, her thoughts apparently elsewhere. After she had taken a few sips she suddenly rose, and said: 'I beg to be excused, I'll be back presently!'
After she had gone the judge tried to engage Kia Yu-po in a conversation, but the young poet had relapsed in his morose mood. New dishes were brought in, and all ate with gusto. The two musicians played several fashionable tunes. Judge Dee did not like the new-fangled music, but he had to admit that the food was delicious.
When the last fish course was being served, Autumn Moon came back, apparently in high spirits. While passing behind the curio-dealer she whispered something into his ear, then went on, after playfully tapping his shoulder with her fan. Sitting down, she said to the judge:
'This is turning out to be a most pleasurable evening after all!' She laid her hand on his arm, bent her head so close that he could smell the musk perfume in her hair, and said softly: 'Shall I tell you why I was so curt when we met on the veranda ? Because I hated to admit to myself that I liked you. At first sight!' She gave him a long look, then went on: 'And you didn't dislike me either, did you—as you saw me?'
While Judge Dee was still groping for a suitable reply she squeezed his arm, and resumed quickly:
'It's so nice to meet a wise and experienced man like you! You don't know how utterly those so-called modern, young whippersnappers bore me! It's such a relief to meet a mature man like you, who . . .' She gave him a shy look, then lowered her eyes and added very softly: 'Who knows about... things.'
The judge saw with relief that Wen Yuan had got up from his chair and was preparing to take his leave. He said that an important client was coming to see him after dinner, and asked politely to be excused.
The Queen Flower now began to exchange jokes with Feng and Tao. Although she drank many more cups in quick succession, her speech didn't become slurred, and her retorts were witty and to the point. But at last, after Feng had told a funny story, she suddenly put her hand to her forehead and said plaintively:
'Oh, I have drunk too much! Would you gentlemen think it very rude if I retired now? This is my parting cup!'
She took up Judge Dee's own wine beaker and slowly drank it. Then she bowed and left.
As the judge was staring with disgust at the red smear of lipsalve on the rim of his beaker, Tao Pan-te remarked, with a thin smile:
'You have made a great impression on our Queen Flower, sir!'
'She only wanted to be polite to a stranger,' Judge Dee said deprecatingly.
Kia Yu-po rose and asked to be excused, he said he didn't feel very well. The judge realized with dismay that he himself couldn't leave before another long interval had elapsed, for if he went too soon the others would think he was going after the courtesan. Her drinking from his beaker had been an unequivocal invitation. What a situation that scoundrel Lo had landed him in! With a sigh he started on the sweet soup that marked the approaching end of the dinner.
IV
After Ma Joong had parted from Judge Dee at the gate of the Crane Bower, he walked down the street, whistling a gay tune. Soon he found the main thoroughfare of the island.
People of all descriptions were milling around under the ornamental arches of coloured stucco that spanned the street at regular intervals, and elbowing their way in and out of the high gates of the gambling halls. Vendors of cakes and noodles had to shout at the top of their voices to make themselves heard in this noisy crowd. Every time the din lessened somewhat one heard the clanking of copper coins, shaken in a large wooden trough by a pair of sturdy fellows, at the entrance of each gambling hall. They keep at it all night long, for this auspicious sound of money is supposed to bring good luck, and it also attracts customers.
Ma Joong halted before a high wooden platform, put up next to the door of the largest gambling hall. It was loaded with piles of platters and bowls, filled with sweetmeats and candied fruit. Over it was a scaffolding that carried rows of paper models, representing houses, chariots, boats, all sorts of furniture, and piles of folded clothes, also made of paper. This was one of the many altars put up at the beginning of the seventh month, for the benefit of the souls of the departed that roam about freely among the living, all during the Festival of the Dead. The ghosts may taste from the food, and choose from the paper models what they need for their life in the Hereafter. On the thirtieth of the seventh month, at the close of the festival, the food is distributed among the poor, and the altars and the paper models are burned, the smoke carrying the chosen objects to their unearthly destination. The festival reminds the people that death is not a final parting, for once every year the departed come back and for a few weeks take part in the lives of those who had been dear to them.