Had Cheng Lin come into the world when a favourably disposed band of demons was in the ascendant he would certainly have merited an earlier and more embellished appearance in this written chronicle. So far, however, nothing but omens of an ill-destined obscurity had beset his career. For many years two ambitions alone had contained his mind, both inextricably merged into one current and neither with any appearance of ever flowing into its desired end. The first was to pass the examination of the fourth degree of proficiency in the great literary competitions, and thereby qualify for a small official post where, in the course of a few years, he might reasonably hope to be forgotten in all beyond the detail of being allotted every third moon an unostentatious adequacy of taels. This distinction Cheng Lin felt to be well within his power of attainment could he but set aside three uninterrupted years for study, but to do this would necessitate the possession of something like a thousand taels of silver, and Lin might as well fix his eyes upon the great sky-lantem itself.

  Dependent on this, but in no great degree removed from it, was the hope of being able to entwine into that future the actuality of Hsi Mean, a very desirable maiden whom it was Cheng Lin’s practice to meet by chance on the river bank when his heavily-weighted duties for the day were over.

  To those who will naturally ask why Cheng Lin, if really sincere in his determination, could not imperceptibly acquire even so large a sum as a thousand taels while in the house of the wealthy Wang Ho, immersed as the latter person was with the pursuit of the full face of high mandarins and further embarrassed by a profuse illiteracy, it should be sufficient to apply the warning: Beware of helping yourself to com from the manger of the blind mule.

  In spite of his preoccupation Wang Ho never suffered his mind to wander when sums of money were concerned, and his inability to express himself by written signs only engendered in his alert brain an everpresent decision not to be entrapped by their use. Frequently, Cheng Lin found small sums of money lying in such a position as to induce the belief that they had been forgotten, but upon examining them closely he invariably found upon them marks by which they could be recognised if the necessity arose; he therefore had no hesitation in returning them to Wang Ho with a seemly reference to the extreme improbability of the merchant actually leaving money thus unguarded, and to the lack of respect which it showed to Cheng Lin himself to expect that a person of his integrity should be tempted by so insignificant an amount. Wang Ho invariably admitted the justice of the reproach, but he did not on any future occasion materially increase the sum in question, so that it is to be doubted if his heart was sincere.

  It was on the evening of such an incident that Lin walked with Mean by the side of the lotus-burdened Hoang-keng expressing himself to the effect that instead of lilies her hair was worthy to be bound up with pearls of a like size, and that beneath her feet there should be spread a carpet not of verdure, but of the finest Shang-hi silk, embroidered with five-clawed dragons and other emblems of royal authority, nor was Mean in any way displeased by this indication of extravagant taste on her lover’s part, though she replied:

  “The only jewels that this person desires are the enduring glances of pure affection with which you, O my phoenix one, entwined the lilies about her hair, and the only carpet that she would crave would be the embroidered design created by the four feet of the two persons who are now conversing together for ever henceforth walking in uninterrupted harmony.”

  “Yet, alas!” exclaimed Lin, “that enchanting possibility seems to be more remotely positioned than ever. Again has the clay-souled Wang Ho, on the pretext that he can no longer make his in and out taels meet, sought to diminish the monthly inadequacy of cash with which he rewards this person’s conscientious services.”

  “Undoubtedly that opaque-eyed merchant will shortly meet a revengeful fire-breathing vampire when walking alone on the edge of a narrow precipice,” exclaimed Mean sympathetically. “Yet have you pressingly laid the facts before the spirits of your distinguished ancestors with a request for their direct intervention?”

  “The expedient has not been neglected,” replied Lin, “and appropriate sacrifices have accompanied the request. But even while in the form of an ordinary existence the venerable ones in question were becoming distant in their powers of hearing, and doubtless with increasing years the infirmity has grown. It would almost seem that in the case of a person so obtuse as Wang Ho is, more direct means would have to be employed.”

  “It is well said,” assented Mean, “that those who are unmoved by the threat of a vat of flaming sulphur in the Beyond, rend the air if they chance to step on a burning cinder here on earth.”

  “The suggestion is a timely one,” replied Lin. “Wang Ho’s weak spot lies between his hat and his sandals. Only of late, feeling the natural infirmities of time pressing about him, he has expended a thousand taels in the purchase of an elaborate burial robe, which he wears on every fit occasion, so that the necessity for its ultimate use may continue to be remote.”

  “A thousand taels!” repeated Mean. “With that sum you could—”

  “Assuredly. The coincidence may embody something in the nature of an omen favourable to ourselves. At the moment, however, this person has not any clear-cut perception of how the benefit may be attained.”

  “The amount referred to has already passed into the hands of the merchant in burial robes?”

  “Irrevocably. In the detail of the transference of actual sums of money Wang Ho walks hand in hand with himself from door to door. The pieces of silver are by this time beneath the floor of Shen Heng’s inner chamber.”

  “ShenHeng?”

  “The merchant in silk and costly fabrics, who lives beneath the sign of the Golden Abacus. It was from him—”

  “Truly. It is for him that this person’s sister Min works the finest embroideries. Doubtless this very robe—”

  “It is the blue silk edged with sand pearls in a line of three depths. Felicitations on long life and a list of the most venerable persons of all times serve to remind the controlling deities to what length human endurance can proceed if suitably encouraged. These are designed in letters of threaded gold. Inferior spirits are suitably invoked in characters of silver.”

  “The description is sharp-pointed. It is upon this robe that the one referred to has been ceaselessly engaged for several moons. On account of her narrow span of years, no less than her nimble-jointed dexterity, she is justly esteemed among those whose wares are guaranteed to be permeated with the spirit of rejuvenation.”

  “Thereby enabling the enterprising Shen Heng to impose a special detail into his account: ’For employing the services of one who will embroider into the fabric of the robe the vital principles of youth and long-life-to-come—an added fifty taels.’ Did she of your house benefit to a proportionate extent?”

  Mean indicated a contrary state of things by a graceful movement of her well-arranged eyebrows.

  “Not only that,” she added, “but the sordid-minded Shen Heng, on a variety of pretexts, has diminished the sum Min was to receive at the completion of the work, until that which should have required a full hand to grasp could be efficiently covered by two attenuated fingers. From this cause Min is vindictively inclined towards him and, steadfastly refusing to bend her feet in the direction of his workshop, she has, between one melancholy and another, involved herself in a dark distemper.”

  As Mean unfolded the position lying between her sister Min and the merchant Shen Heng, Lin grew thoughtful, and, although it was not his nature to express the changing degrees of emotion by varying the appearance of his face, he did not conceal from Mean that her words had fastened themselves upon his imagination.

  “Let us rest here a while,” he suggested presently. “That which you say, added to what I already know, may, under the guidance of a sincere mind, put a much more rainbow-like appearance on our combined future than hitherto appeared probable.”

  So they composed themselves about the bank of the river, while Lin questioned her more closely as to those things of which she had spoken. Finally, he laid certain injunctions upon her for her immediate guidance. Then, it being now the hour of middle light, they returned, Mean accompanying her voice to the melody of stringed wood, as she related songs of those who have passed through great endurances to a state of assured contentment. To Lin it seemed as though the city leapt forward to meet them, so narrow was the space of time involved in reaching it.

  A few days later Wang Ho was engaged in the congenial occupation of marking a few pieces of brass cash before secreting them where Cheng Lin must inevitably displace them, when the person in question quietly approached him. Thereupon Wang Ho returned the money to his inner sleeve, ineptly remarking that when the sun rose it was futile to raise a lantern to the sky to guide the stars.

  “Rather is it said, ’From three things cross the road to avoid: a falling tree, your chief and second wives whispering in agreement, and a goat wearing a leopard’s tail,’” replied Lin, thus rebuking Wang Ho, not only for his crafty intention, but also as to the obtuseness of the proverb he had quoted. “Nevertheless, O Wang Ho, I approach you on a matter of weighty consequence.”

  Tomorrow approaches,” replied the merchant evasively. “If it concerns the detail of the reduction of your monthly adequacy, my word has become unbending iron.”

  “It is written, ‘Cho Sing collected feathers to make a garment for his canary when it began to moult,’” replied Lin acquiescently. “The care of so insignificant a person as myself may safely be left to the Protecting Forces, esteemed. This matter touches your own condition.”

  “In that case you cannot be too specific.” Wang Ho lowered himself into a reclining couch, thereby indicating that the subject was not one for hasty dismissal, at the same time motioning to Lin that he should sit upon the floor. “Doubtless you have some remunerative form of enterprise to suggest to me?”

  “Can a palsied finger grasp a proffered coin? The matter strikes more deeply at your very existence, honoured chief.”

  “Alas!” exclaimed Wang Ho, unable to retain the usual colour of his appearance, “the attention of a devoted servant is somewhat like Tohen-hi Yang’s spiked throne—it torments those whom it supports. However, the word has been spoken—let the sentence be filled in.”

  “The full roundness of your illustrious outline is as a display of coloured lights to gladden my commonplace vision,” replied Lin submissively. “Admittedly of late, however, an element of dampness has interfered with the brilliance of the display.”

  “Speak clearly and regardless of polite evasion,” commanded Wang Ho. “My internal organs have for some time suspected that hostile influences were at work. For how long have you noticed this, as it may be expressed, falling off?”

  “My mind is as refined crystal before your compelling glance,” admitted Lin. “Ever since it has been your custom to wear the funeral robe fashioned by Shen Heng has your noble shadow suffered erosion.”

  This answer, converging as it did upon the doubts that had already assailed the merchant’s satisfaction, convinced him of Cheng Lin’s discrimination, while it increased his own suspicion. He had for some little time noticed that after wearing the robe he invariably suffered pangs that could only be attributed to the influence of malign and obscure Beings. It is true that the occasions of his wearing the robe were elaborate and many-coursed feasts, when he and his guests had partaken lavishly of birds’ nests, sharks’ fins, sea snails and other viands of a rich and glutinous nature. But if he could not both wear the funeral robe and partake unstintingly of well-spiced food, the harmonious relation of things was imperilled; and, as it was since the introduction of the funeral robe into his habit that matters had assumed a more poignant phase, it was clear that the influence of the funeral robe was at the root of the trouble.

  “Yet,” protested Wang Ho, “the Mandarin Ling-ni boasts that he has already lengthened the span of his natural life several years by such an expedient, and my friend the high official T’cheng asserts that, while wearing a much less expensive robe than mine, he feels the essence of an increased vitality passing continuously into his being. Why, then, am I marked out for this infliction, Cheng Lin?”

  “Revered,” replied Lin, with engaging candour, “the inconveniences of living in a country so densely populated with demons, vampires, spirits, ghouls, dragons, omens, forces and influences, both good and bad, as our own unapproachable favoured Empire is, cannot be evaded from one end of life to the other. How much greater is the difficulty when the prescribed forms for baffling the ill-disposed among the unseen appear to have been wrongly angled by those framing the Rites!”

  Wang Ho made a gesture of despair. It conveyed to Lin’s mind the wise reminder of N’sy hing: When one is inquiring for a way of escape from an advancing tiger, flowers of speech assume the form of noisome bindweed. He therefore continued:

  “Hitherto it has been assumed that for a funeral robe to exercise its most beneficial force it should be the work of a maiden of immature years, the assumption being that, having a prolonged period of existence before her, the influence of longevity would pass through her fingers into the garment and in turn fortify the wearer.”

  “Assuredly,” agreed Wang Ho anxiously. “Thus was the analogy outlined to me by one skilled in the devices, and the logic of it seems unassailable.”

  “Yet,” objected Lin, with sympathetic concern in his voice, “how unfortunate must be the position of a person involved in a robe that has been embroidered by one who, instead of a long life, has been marked out by the

  Destinies for premature decay and an untimely death! For in that case the influence—”

  “Such instances,” interrupted Wang Ho, helping himself profusely to rice-spirit from a jar near at hand, “must providentially be of rare occurrence?”

  “Esteemed head,” replied Lin, helping Wang Ho to yet another superfluity of rice-spirit, “there are moments when it behoves each of us to maintain an unflaccid outline. Suspecting the true cause of your declining radiance, I have, at an involved expenditure of seven taels and three hand-counts of brass cash, pursued this matter to its ultimate source. The robe in question owes its attainment to one Min, of the obscure house of Hsi, who recently ceased to have an existence while her years yet numbered short of a score. Not only was it the last work upon which she was engaged, but so closely were the two identified that her abrupt Passing Beyond must certainly exercise a corresponding effect upon any subsequent wearer.”

  “Alas!” exclaimed Wang Ho, feeling many of the symptoms of contagion already manifesting themselves about his body. “Was the infliction of a painless nature?”

  “As to whether it was leprosy, the spotted plague, or acute demoniacal possession, the degraded Shen Heng maintains an unworthy silence. Indeed, at the mention of Hsi Min’s name he wraps his garment about his head and rolls upon the floor—from which the worst may be inferred. They of Min’s house, however, are less capable of guile, and for an adequate consideration, while not denying that Shen Heng has paid them to maintain a stealthy silence, they freely admit that the facts are as they have been stated.”

  “In that case, Shen Heng shall certainly return the thousand taels in exchange for his discreditable burial robe,” exclaimed Wang Ho vindictively.

  “Venerated personality,” said Lin, with unabated loyalty, “the essential part of the development is to safeguard your own incomparable being against every danger. Shen Heng may be safely left to the avenging demons that are ever lying in wait for the contemptible.”

  “The first part of your remark is inspired,” agreed Wang Ho, his incapable mind already beginning to assume a less funereal forecast. “Proceed, regardless of all obstacles.”

  “Consider the outcome of publicly compelling Shen Heng to undo the transaction, even if it could be legally achieved! Word of the calamity would pass on heated breath, each succeeding one becoming more heavily embroidered than the robe itself. The yamens and palaces of your distinguished friends would echo with the once honoured name of Wang Ho, now associated with every form of malignant distemper and impending fate. All would hasten to withdraw themselves from the contagion of your overhanging end.”

  “Am I then,” demanded Wang Ho, “to suffer the loss of a thousand taels and retain an inadequate and detestable burial robe that will continue to exercise its malign influence over my being?”

  “By no means,” replied Lin confidently. “But be warned by the precept, ‘Do not bum down your house in order to inconvenience even your chief wife’s mother.’ Sooner or later a relation of Shen Heng will turn his steps towards your inner office. You can then, without undue effort, impose on him the thousand taels that you have suffered loss from they of his house. In the meantime a device must be sought for exchanging your dangerous but imposing-looking robe for one of proved efficiency.”

  “It begins to assume a definite problem in this person’s mind as to whether such a burial robe exists,” declared Wang Ho stubbornly.

  “Yet it cannot be denied, when a reliable system is adopted in the fabrication,” protested Lin. “For a score and five years the one to whom this person owes his being has worn such a robe.”

  “To what age did your venerated father attain?” inquired the merchant, with courteous interest.

  “Fourscore years and three parts of yet another score.”

  “And the robe in question eventually accompanied him when he Passed Beyond?”

 

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