Two. The Remembering

Kang Tongbi received the visitor in the rooms off the front courtyard devoted to entertaining guests, and sat watching him closely as he explained who he was, in a clear if strangely accented Chinese. His name was Ibrahim ibn Hasam. He was a small, slight man, about Kang's height and build, white haired. He wore reading glasses all the time, and his eyes swam behind the lenses like pond fish. He was a true hui, originally from Iran, though he had lived in China for most of the Qianlong Emperor's reign, and like most long term foreigners in China, had made a lifelong commitment to stay there.

'China is my home,' he said, which sounded odd with his accent. He nodded observantly at her expression. 'Not a pure Han, obviously, but I like it here. Actually I am soon moving back to Langzhou, to live among people of my faith. I think I have learned enough studying with Liu Zhi to be of service to those wishing for a better understanding between Muslim Chinese and Han Chinese. That is my hope, anyway.'

Kang nodded politely at this unlikely quest. 'And you have come here to…?'

He bowed. 'I have been assisting the governor of the province in these reported cases of…'

'Soul stealing?' Kang said sharply.

'Well. Yes. Queue cuttings, in any case. Whether they are a matter of sorcery, or merely of rebellion against the dynasty, is not so very easy to determine. I am a scholar for the most part, a religious scholar, but I have also been a student of the medical arts, and so I was summoned to see if I could bring any light to bear on the matter. I have also studied cases of possession of the soul. And other things like that.'

Kang regarded him coldly. He hesitated before continuing. 'Your eldest son informs me that you have suffered some incidents of this kind.'

'I know nothing about them,' she said sharply. 'My youngest son's queue was cut, that I am aware of. It has been investigated with no particular result. As for the rest, I am ignorant. I sleep, and have woken up a few times cold, and not in my bed. Elsewhere in the household, in fact. My servants tell me that I have been saying things they don't understand. Speaking something that is not Chinese.'

His eyes swam. 'Do you speak any other languages, madam?'

'Of course not.'

'Excuse me. Your son said you were extremely well educated.'

'My father was pleased to educate me in the classics along with his sons.'

'You have the reputation of being a fine poet.'

Kang did not reply, but coloured slightly.

'I hope I shall have the privilege of reading some of your poems. They could help me in my work here.'

'Which is?'

'Well – to cure you of these visitations, if such is possible. And to aid the Emperor in his inquiry into the queue clippings.'

Kang frowned and looked away.

Ibrahim sipped his tea and waited. He seemed to have the ability to wait more or less indefinitely.

Kang gestured to Pao to refill his tea cup. 'Proceed, then.'

Ibrahim bowed from his seat. 'Thank you. Perhaps we can start by discussing this monk who died, Bao Ssu.'

Kang stiffened in her wall seat.

'I know it is difficult,' Ibrahim murmured. 'You care still for his son.'

'Yes.'

'And I am told that when he arrived you were convinced that you knew him from somewhere else.'

'Yes, that's right. But he said he came from Soochow, and had never been here before. And I have never been to Soochow. But I felt that I knew him.'

'And did you feel the same way about his boy?'

'No. But I feel the same about you.'

She clapped her hand over her mouth.

'You do?' Ibrahim watched her.

Kang shook her head. 'I don't know why I said that! It just came out.'

'Such things sometimes do.' He waved it off. 'But this Bao, who did not recognize you. Shortly after he arrived, there were incidents reported. Queue chopping, people's names written on pieces of paper and placed under wharf pilings about to be driven in that sort of thing. Soulstealing activities.'

Kang shook her head. 'He had nothing to do with that. He spent every day by the river, fishing with his son. He was a simple monk, that's all. They tortured him to no purpose.'

'He confessed to queue clipping.'

'On the ankle press he did! He would have said anything, and so would anyone else! It's a stupid way to investigate such crimes. It makes them spring up everywhere, like a ring of poison mushrooms.'

'True,' the man said. He took a sip of tea. 'I have often said so myself. And in fact it's becoming clear that that is what has happened here, in the present situation.'

Kang looked at him grimly. 'Tell me.'

'Well.' Ibrahim looked down. 'Monk Bao and his boy were first brought in for questioning in Anchi, as he may have told you. They had been begging by singing songs outside the village headman's house. The headman gave them a single piece of steamed bread, and Bao and Xinwu were apparently so hungry that Bao cursed the headman, who decided they were bad characters, and repeated his order for them to be off. Bao cursed him again before leaving, and the headman was so angry he had them arrested and their bags searched. They found some writings and medicines, and scissors 'Same as they found here.'

'Yes. And so the headman had them tied to a tree and beaten with chains. Nothing more was learned, however, and yet the two were pretty badly hurt. So the headman took part of a false queue worn by a bald guard in his employ, and put it in Bao's bag and sent him along to the prefecture for examination with the ankle press.'

'Poor man,' Kang exclaimed, biting her lip. 'Poor soul.'

'Yes.' Ibrahim took another sip. 'So, recently the governor general began looking into these incidents by order of the Emperor, who is very concerned. I've helped somewhat in the investigation – not with any questionings examining physical evidence, like the false queue, which I showed was made of several different kinds of hair. So the headman was questioned, and told the whole story.'

'So it was all a lie.'

'Indeed. And in fact all the incidents can be traced back to an origin in a case similar to Bao's, in Soochow 'Monstrous.' except for the case of your son Shih.'

Kang said nothing. She gestured, and Pao refilled the tea cups.

After a very long silence, Ibrahim said, 'No doubt hooligans in town took advantage of the scare to frighten your boy.'

Kang nodded.

'And also,' he went on, 'if you have been experiencing possessions by spirits possibly he, also.

She said nothing.

'Do you know of any oddities..

For a long time they sat together in silence, sipping tea. Finally Kang said, 'Fear itself is a kind of possession.'

'Indeed.'

They sipped tea for a while more.

'I will tell the governor general that there is nothing to worry about here.'

'Thank you.'

Another silence.

'But I am interested in any subsequent manifestations of… anything out of the ordinary.'

'Of course.'

'I hope we can discuss them. I know of ways to investigate such things.'

'Possibly.'

Soon after, the hui doctor ended his visit.

After he was gone, Kang wandered the compound from room to room, trailed by the worried Pao. She looked into Shih's room, now empty, his books on their shelves unopened. Shih had gone down to the riverside, no doubt to be with his friend Xinwu.

Kang looked in the women's quarters, at the loom on which so much of their fortune resided; and the writing stand, ink block, brushes, stacks of paper.

Geese fly north against the moon. Sons grow up and leave. In the garden, my old bench. Some days I'd rather have rice and salt. Sit like a plant, neck outstretched: Honk, honk! Fly away!

Then on to the kitchens, and the garden under the old juniper. Not a word did she say, but retired to her bedroom in silence.