The Mystery of the Song Dynasty Painting (10 page)

Ah Zhao places Brave Heart into the basin and signals Gege to release Valiant Warrior. The two crickets face one another. Brave Heart advances aggressively, but Valiant Warrior takes one whiff and turns away, refusing to fight. We’re amazed and delighted.

Baba produces a long string of copper coins from his sleeve and turns to Ah Zhao. ‘Well done! You provided us with a lot of entertainment this morning. Thank you. If you can spare your crickets, I would like to buy them and have you deliver them to Commissioner Ye. Take these coins, go to the market and bring back a couple of gourds for transporting the insects. Keep the change.’

He hands me the string of cash to give to Ah Zhao. It’s surprisingly heavy. About five hundred round metal coins are strung together with a sturdy piece of red silk, knotted at the end. Each coin has a large square hole in the middle. Surrounding the hole are four inscribed characters, one along each side of the square. ‘Circulating Treasure of Song,’ I read. A thought suddenly strikes me.

‘These coins are heavy, Baba! What if you buy something really expensive? How would you carry all the coins?’

‘You use silver ingots instead of coins,’ Gege replies. ‘One thousand coins are the same as one ounce of silver – and there’s
fei qian
(flying money) as well, isn’t there, Baba?’

‘You’re right!’ Baba says. ‘Nowadays we use flying money to buy really expensive items… such as houses and land.’

I feel confused by the idea of flying money. ‘Does it have wings and fly away?’

‘No wings,’ Baba laughs. ‘It’s called flying money because it’s made of paper, and can be blown away by a puff of wind.’

‘But paper is cheap!’ Gege frowns. ‘How did paper money become more valuable than copper coins or silver ingots?’

‘As Little Sister pointed out just now, long strings of copper coins are too heavy to carry around. So rich merchants started storing their coins at businesses such as pawnshops. In return, the pawnbroker would give a piece of paper, stating how many coins each merchant had placed with him. When someone needed to withdraw his money, all he had to do was bring his piece of paper to the pawnshop. This practice has been going on since the Tang Dynasty.

‘About one hundred years ago, the Emperor ran out of copper coins. So His Majesty began issuing official paper money, printed and guaranteed by the government, instead of coins. Nowadays we use coins to buy small things, and flying money for big purchases.’

‘Well, I won’t need any flying money or silver ingots today,’ Ah Zhao says. ‘I can place the crickets in my homemade bamboo cages and deliver them to Commissioner Ye that way.’

‘Your cages are too flimsy,’ Baba says. ‘Gourds are sturdier and more practical for transporting crickets. I don’t want those insects to die. Go to the market and bring back two gourds. While you’re shopping, I’ll write to my boss and tell him about the tricks Lady An Kai can learn to improve her luck with crickets. Transfer your crickets into the gourds when you come back, then deliver the whole lot to the Commissioner at his
yamen
(government office).’

‘Yes, Old Master!’ Ah Zhao says, beaming with pleasure. ‘In your note, please tell the Commissioner that these two crickets are special. I think they were probably marshals commanding great armies in their past lives. Their souls are filled with fighting spirit and potent
qi
(energy). They will do their owner proud!’

‘Enough!’ Baba says sternly. ‘I don’t need
you
to tell me what to write. On your way!’

‘I’m going with Ah Zhao to choose the gourds!’ Gege says. He turns to Baba. ‘May we go on horseback, to save time?’

‘I want to go too!’ I say, reluctant to be left behind. ‘Please, Baba, please?’

‘You’ll slow us down!’ Gege protests. ‘Besides, you don’t even know how to ride.’

‘Come with us, Baba! Please!’ I plead. ‘Let’s all go. Will you take us in your carriage?’

As Baba hesitates, we hear a cough and the unctuous voice of old Ah Wang. ‘Good morning, Old Master, Young Master and Little Miss,’ he says, ignoring Ah Zhao as if he doesn’t exist. ‘Teacher Lai has arrived, but Young Master and Little Miss have not had their breakfast yet.’

‘I’m not hungry,’ Gege says.

‘Nor am I. We don’t want any breakfast,’ I add.

‘Tell Teacher Lai to go home,’ Gege announces airily. ‘Baba’s boss, Commissioner Ye, has ordered us to go shopping today. He’s giving Confucius and Mencius a holiday. Instead, Baba’s taking everyone to the market in his carriage!’

Baba is obviously in a good mood, because he laughs and waves Ah Wang away.

10

Visit to the Capital

Instead of sitting with Baba and me inside the carriage, Gege insists on joining Ah Zhao and our coachman Little Chen (Xiao Chen
) on the driver’s bench. Baba and I sit side by side in the vehicle. I’m really excited to be going to the city because I’m seldom allowed out of the house. My last outing was three years ago when my grandmother Lao Lao, Niang’s mother, died and we buried her in the cemetery.

Although our house is only three
li
(about one mile) from the city gate, the countryside around us is dewy and tranquil. The air smells fresh, trees are turning green and flower buds dot the fields with splashes of colour.

As our horses trot past the farms, I see peasants bent over their crops, and men and boys ploughing their fields with the help of water buffaloes. On the narrow pathway, our carriage competes for space with goatherds, cow hands and pig farmers shepherding their animals to market. Little Chen wends his way skilfully along the muddy country lane, which soon broadens into a wider road. We pass many small, modest homes as well as a few mansions, similar to ours, before joining the main city highway. The traffic gets heavier as we roll along and we overtake many pedestrians, some carrying heavy loads balanced on shoulder-poles. Further on, we drive past a train of camels, ox-drawn carts laden with goods, donkeys with animal carcasses or sacks of grain slung across their backs, wheelbarrows, porters staggering under heavy loads, as well as rich men in palanquins and sedan chairs, borne by bearers. Young men on horseback gallop past at high speeds. All of us are headed in the same direction. There’s very little traffic going the opposite way.

As we approach the city, the noise around us increases. We hear our coachman’s yells intermingled with the sound of horses’ hooves, the singsong calls of street vendors and the jingling bells of ox-drawn carts. Our carriage rolls along, weaving deftly between buildings, carts, animals, pedestrians and open stalls. The narrow streets are lined with pottery kilns, artists’ studios, iron foundries, shoe-repair stalls and all manner of workshops. I see numerous stands piled high with wine jars, sacks of grain and fresh vegetables.

‘Where are we, Baba?’

‘We’re at the open market, just outside the city proper. Ah Zhao used to work at a store close by the Nine Dragons’ Teahouse, next to the river. They serve the best noodles in Bian Liang and I happen to have a daughter who loves noodles…’

‘Oh, Baba!’ I cry. ‘Are you taking me to a teahouse? I’ve never set foot in one before.’

‘Why not? Don’t tell your Niang, that’s all. You’re still young enough to go to a teahouse with your Baba. Once a girl gets married, her husband will never allow her to go to such places.’

‘Married! Who’s getting married?’

‘You will, one day not too far away!’ Baba says, smiling. ‘Your Niang has been talking to many match-makers lately.’

Suddenly things start to make sense. This is why Niang has been more interested in the way I look, and this is why she wants me to behave differently. She can see a way of getting rid of me for good.

‘But I don’t
want
to get married, Baba,’ I protest. ‘I’m happy the way I am. Besides, I’m only thirteen years old.’

‘Come now – you don’t want everyone to accuse your Niang of neglecting her duty to her daughter, do you? It will lower everyone’s respect for her. She needs to arrange a proper marriage for you, and these matters can take time.’

My heart sinks, but the idea of marriage seems so ridiculous that it’s not difficult to forget all about it. Especially when our carriage turns a corner and we see the Bian River make its dramatic appearance with
Hong Qiao
(the Rainbow Bridge) only a few hundred feet away. The water is thronged with flat-bottomed barges laden with wood, salt, bricks, tiles, coal and sacks of rice. Little Chen brings our vehicle to a halt. He hands the reins to Ah Zhao, hops to the ground and places a footstool for Baba and me to alight.

‘You go and get the gourds, Ah Zhao,’ Baba says. ‘The three of us are going to the Nine Dragons’ Teahouse for lunch.’

I can’t help feeling sad that Ah Zhao won’t be eating with us. Although he’s so much more intelligent than Gege and me, he can never be part of our world. No matter how hard he works or how beautifully he carves, he will always be a servant. Why? Because he can’t read or write and will never be able to pass the Imperial Examination. How unfair life is! But I know that Baba will not be happy if I say this aloud. So I swallow my words.

The teahouse is situated at a busy crossroads. Baba guides Gege and me around a few donkey carts, porters, sedan chairs and strolling pedestrians. A professional storyteller is entertaining passers-by at one corner of the intersection.