“I’m sure you’re mistaken. If one of them hears you, even the greatest litigation master in China won’t be able to help you. You have trouble enough. When it comes to politics, it’s best to see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil.”
That’s a philosophy a lot of my monkeys used to share, said the Monkey King. But I disagree with it.
You would, you perpetual rebel, thought Tian Haoli. But you can grow a new head when it’s cut off, a luxury most of us don’t share.
? ? ?
Outside the yamen court, Tian picked up the drumstick and began to beat the Drum of Justice, petitioning the court to hear his complaint.
Half an hour later, an angry Magistrate Yi stared at the two people kneeling on the paved-stone floor below the dais: the widow trembling in fear, and that troublemaker, Tian, his back straight with a false look of respect on his face. Magistrate Yi had hoped to take the day off to enjoy the company of a pretty girl at one of the blue houses, but here he was, forced to work. He had a good mind to order both of them flogged right away, but he had to at least keep up the appearance of being a caring magistrate lest one of his disloyal underlings make a report to the judicial inspector.
“What is your complaint, guileful peasant?” asked the magistrate, gritting his teeth.
Tian shuffled forward on his knees and kowtowed. “Oh, Most Honored Magistrate,” he began—Magistrate Yi wondered how Tian managed to make the phrase sound almost like an insult—“Widow Li cries out for justice, justice, justice!”
“And why are you here?”
“I’m Li Xiaoyi’s cousin, here to help her speak, for she is distraught over how she’s been treated.”
Magistrate Yi fumed. This Tian Haoli always claimed to be related to the litigant to justify his presence in court and avoid the charge of being a litigating hooligan. He slammed his hardwood ruler, the symbol of his authority, against the table. “You lie! How many cousins can you possibly have?”
“I lie not.”
“I warn you, if you can’t prove this relation in the records of the Li clan shrine, I’ll have you given forty strokes of the cane.” Magistrate Yi was pleased with himself, thinking that he had finally come up with a way to best the crafty litigation master. He gave a meaningful look to the bailiffs standing to the sides of the court, and they pounded their staffs against the ground rhythmically, emphasizing the threat.
But Tian seemed not worried at all. “Most Sagacious Magistrate, it was Confucius who said that ‘Within the Four Seas, all men are brothers.’ If all men were brothers at the time of Confucius, then it stands to reason that being descended from them, Li Xiaoyi and I are related. With all due respect, surely, Your Honor isn’t suggesting that the genealogical records of the Li family are more authoritative than the words of the Great Sage?”
Magistrate Yi’s face turned red, but he could not think of an answer. Oh, how he wished he could find some excuse to punish this sharp-tongued songgun, who always seemed to turn black into white and right into wrong. The Emperor needed better laws to deal with men like him.
“Let’s move on.” ?The magistrate took a deep breath to calm himself. “What is this injustice she claims? Her cousin Jie read me the contract. It’s perfectly clear what happened.”
“I’m afraid there’s been a mistake,” ?Tian said. “I ask that the contract be brought so it can be examined again.”
Magistrate Yi sent one of the bailiffs to bring back the wealthy cousin with the contract. Everyone in court, including Widow Li, looked at Tian in puzzlement, unsure what he planned. But Tian simply stroked his beard, appearing to be without a care in the world.
You do have a plan, yes? said the Monkey King.
Not really. I’m just playing for time.
Well, said Monkey, I always like to turn my enemies’ weapons against them. Did I tell you about the time I burned Nezha with his own fire-wheels?
Tian dipped his hand inside his robe, where he kept his writing kit.
The bailiff brought back a confused, sweating Jie, who had been interrupted during a luxurious meal of swallow-nest soup. His face was still greasy as he hadn’t even gotten a chance to wipe himself. Jie knelt before the magistrate next to Tian and Li and lifted the contract above his head for the bailiff.
“Show it to Tian,” the magistrate ordered.
Tian accepted the contract and began to read it. He nodded his head from time to time, as though the contract was the most fascinating poetry.
Though the legalese was long and intricate, the key phrase was only eight characters long:
上賣莊稼 , 下賣田地
The mortgage was structured as a sale with a right of redemption, and this part provided that the widow sold her cousin “the crops above, and the field below.”
“Interesting, most interesting,” said ?Tian as he held the contract and continued to move his head about rhythmically.
Magistrate Yi knew he was being baited, yet he couldn’t help but ask, “What is so interesting?”
“Oh Great, Glorious Magistrate, you who reflect the truth like a perfect mirror, you must read the contract yourself.”
Confused, Magistrate Yi had the bailiff bring him the contract. After a few moments, his eyes bulged out. Right there, in clear black characters, was the key phrase describing the sale:
上賣莊稼 , 不賣田地
“The crops above, but not the field,” muttered the magistrate.
Well, the case was clear. The contract did not say what Jie claimed. All that Jie had a right to were the crops, but not the field itself. Magistrate Yi had no idea how this could have happened, but his embarrassed fury needed an outlet. The sweaty, greasy-faced Jie was the first thing he laid his eyes on.
“How dare you lie to me?” ?Yi shouted, slamming his ruler down on the table. “Are you trying to make me look like a fool?”
It was now Jie’s turn to shake like a leaf in the wind, unable to speak.
“Oh, now you have nothing to say? You’re convicted of obstruction of justice, lying to an Imperial official, and attempting to defraud another of her property. I sentence you to a hundred and twenty strokes of the cane and confiscation of half of your property.”
“Mercy, mercy! I don’t know what happened—” ?The piteous cries of Jie faded as the bailiffs dragged him out of the yamen to jail.
Litigation Master Tian’s face was impassive, but inside he smiled and thanked Monkey. Discreetly, he rubbed the tip of his finger against his robe to eliminate the evidence of his trick.
? ? ?
A week later, Tian Haoli was awakened from another banquet-dream with the Monkey King by persistent knocking. He opened the door to find Li Xiaoyi standing there, her pale face drained of blood.
“What’s the matter? Is your cousin again—”
“Master Tian, I need your help.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper. “It’s my brother.”
“Is it a gambling debt? A fight with a rich man? Did he make a bad deal? Was he—”
“Please! You have to come with me!”
Tian Haoli was going to say no because a clever songshi never got involved in cases he didn’t understand—a quick way to end a career. But the look on Li’s face softened his resolve. “All right. Lead the way.”
? ? ?
Tian made sure that there was no one watching before he slipped inside Li Xiaoyi’s hut. Though he didn’t have much of a reputation to worry about, Xiaoyi didn’t need the village gossips wagging their tongues.
Inside, a long, crimson streak could be seen across the packed-earth floor, leading from the doorway to the bed against the far wall. A man lay asleep on the bed, bloody bandages around his legs and left shoulder. Xiaoyi’s two children, both girls, huddled in a shadowy corner of the hut, their mistrustful eyes peeking out at Tian.
One glance at the man’s face told ?Tian all he needed to know: It was the same face on those posters the soldiers were putting up.
Tian Haoli sighed. “Xiaoyi, what kind of trouble have you brought me now?”
Gently, Xiaoyi shook her brother, Xiaojing, awake. He became alert almost immediately, a man used to light sleep and danger on the road.
“Xiaoyi tells me that you can help me,” the man said, gazing at Tian intently.