“Correct. In the last generation, the traffic has grown ten times. The numbers of people addicted until they are useless, reduced to poverty, ruined, killed…It’s terrible. The people cannot pay their taxes. Silver is flowing out of the empire to pay for opium instead.”
“Some opium is grown in China, I believe.”
“Also true. But nearly all of it now is coming from across the seas. Our Chinese smugglers buy it from the barbarian pirates. So what are we to do?”
Did he expect an answer to the question?
“Your servant has heard, Excellency, that it is possible to turn people away from this addiction.”
“We try. But it is very uncertain. The emperor has given me authority to take all steps needed. I shall execute the smugglers. What other problems occur to you?” He watched the young man, saw his awkwardness. “You are working for me now. You are to tell me the truth at all times.”
Shi-Rong took a deep breath. “I have heard, Excellency—though I hope it may not be true—that local officials on the coast are paid by the smugglers not to see their activities.”
“We shall catch them and punish them. If necessary, with death.”
“Ah.” It began to dawn upon Jiang that this was not going to be an easy assignment. To refuse bribes oneself was one thing; to earn the enmity of half the officials on the coastland was another. Not good for his career.
“You will have no friends, young man, but the emperor and me.”
Shi-Rong bowed his head. He wondered if he could feign a sudden sickness—as, it now occurred to him, the other young man in line for the post might have done. No, he didn’t think so.
“Your servant is greatly honored.” And then, despite the cold horror that was growing in his mind, he felt a curiosity to ask one further question. “How will you deal with the pirates, Excellency? The barbarians from over the seas.”
“I have not yet decided. We shall see when we get to the coast.”
Shi-Rong bowed his head again. “I have one request, Commissioner. May I see my father?”
“Go to him at once. Either to bury him or to bid him farewell. It will please him that you have received such a position. But you must not stay with him. Despite your duty to remain and mourn him, you must continue at once to the coast. You will consider that a command from the emperor himself.”
Shi-Rong hardly knew what to think as he and Wong made their way back to the house of Mr. Wen. All he knew was that he needed to sleep, and that he would set out again at dawn.
The following morning, he was surprised to find that Wong was all saddled up and ready to ride with him.
“He will ride with you as far as Zhengzhou,” Mr. Wen informed him. “You must practice speaking Cantonese all the way.”
His old teacher thought of everything.
◦
By evening, Mei-Ling was racked with fear. Not that anything had been said. Not yet, at least. She’d performed all the tasks her mother-in-law demanded. During the afternoon the older woman had gone to a neighbor’s, and Mei-Ling had breathed a little easier. The men had been out in the bamboo forest on the hill. Willow had been resting, which, considering her condition and her family’s wealth, she was allowed to do. So Mei-Ling had been left alone with her thoughts.
Had Sister Willow kept her secret? Or did her mother-in-law know about Nio’s visit that morning? Mother usually knew everything. Perhaps some punishment was being prepared for her.
And then there was tomorrow morning to worry about. Mei-Ling cursed her own stupidity. Why had she told Nio she would meet him?
Because she loved him, of course. Because he was her Little Brother. But what had possessed her? She hadn’t even talked to her husband about it—her husband, whom she loved even more than Little Brother. Even her husband couldn’t protect her from Mother, though. No young Chinese wife disobeyed her mother-in-law.
She’d better not go. She knew it. Nio would understand. But she had given her word. She might be poor, but Mei-Ling prided herself that she never broke her word. Perhaps because she and her family were held of no account in the village, this pride in her word had always been a point of honor with her, ever since she’d been a little girl.
How would she do it, anyway? Even if she slipped out undetected, what were the chances of getting back without her absence being noted? Slim at best. And what then? There was no way to escape a terrible punishment.
Perhaps one. Just perhaps. But she wasn’t sure. That was the trouble.
—
The evening began well enough. Her husband’s family owned the best of the peasant farmhouses in the village. Behind the main courtyard was a big central room where, as usual, they had all gathered.
Opposite her on a wide bench, Willow sat with her husband, Elder Son. Despite his rawboned body and his hands, still dirty from his work, too gnarled to match the elegance of Willow, the two of them looked quite comfortable under his mother’s gaze. Elder Son drank a little huangjiu rice wine and addressed a remark to his wife from time to time. When Willow’s eyes met Mei-Ling’s, there was no sign of guilt upon her face, nor of complicity. Lucky Willow. She’d been brought up never to show any expression at all.
Mei-Ling sat beside Second Son on a bench. Left to themselves, they were usually talkative; but they knew better than to have a conversation now. If they did, his mother would shut them up with a peremptory “You talk too much to your wife, Second Son.” But from where she was sitting, Mother could not quite see that Mei-Ling was discreetly touching his hand.
People thought Second Son was the fool of the family. Hardworking, he was
