copper smell of blood met them at the far end of the lane. They passed by vendors selling live chickens and fish in baskets along the avenue. The butcher’s shop was one of the largest in this section of the market, though it was hidden away in the corner. It was a wooden shack, open in front so that the various cuts and portions could be visible from the street.
An assistant, likely the butcher’s son, was still busy at work. The shop was full of customers looking to purchase the day’s meal. The long wooden cutting block that served as counter was stained dark and scored, and there was an assortment of freshly butchered cuts on display.
“I work back there,” the butcher said. “Customers drop their payment here onto the block and I push all the money into this basket.”
So no one would have to touch hands with him. Butchery was an unsavory, yet profitable trade.
“We were busy like we are now and this thief shoved through the crowd and grabbed the coins from the counter before I could stop him.”
“I’m not a thief,” the youth protested sullenly. He looked like a convict awaiting execution. His shoulders were sunken and his face resigned. Being accused was enough to be condemned and he had both age and status against him.
Where the butcher was well-fed and a successful tradesman, the accused was thin in the face, his chin smooth and his body not yet broadened into manhood. His clothes had been carefully mended many times. He claimed to have labored in the market to earn his coins, which would have meant he had been hard at work since daybreak to earn so much so early in the day.
Kaifeng could have spent the rest of the day questioning merchants to confirm his story, but it would have been no use. In the sprawl of the East Market were too many wagons, too many merchants and too many boys just like this.
“Bring two bowls of fresh water,” Kaifeng told the butcher.
The butcher stared at him, put out by being ordered about. A constable was far from an appointed official and ranked no higher than a tradesman. Kaifeng stared back, unwavering. The butcher finally set down his cleaver and disappeared into the back of the shop. He returned a moment later with two clay bowls and set them onto the counter.
Kaifeng turned to the youth who still had his coppers clutched in his hand. “Put your coins into the first bowl.”
The boy did as he was told. The butcher as well as the other customers watched as the coins sank to the bottom. Kaifeng then instructed the butcher to take a few coins from his basket and drop them into the second bowl. As the coins fell into the water, streaks of grease and blood shimmered over the surface. The water in the first bowl remained clear.
“The coins belong to him, or rather, they never belonged to you,” Kaifeng declared, then turned to leave the shop.
“But I saw him!” the butcher protested.
“Your earnings have remnants of grease and blood from being on the butcher block. His cash is free of any such residue.”
The youth stuffed his coins into his pouch. He spared Kaifeng a nod of gratitude as he rushed from shop and scurried away.
“You saw someone,” Kaifeng said to the butcher. “But it wasn’t this boy. If I find the thief, I’ll take him to the magistrate. In the meantime, keep a closer watch on your money. Your carelessness invites thievery.”
* * *
THE TWO GUARDSMEN at the front gate of the magistrate’s yamen stood aside as Kaifeng approached. Their spears remained at their sides as he entered.
The compound contained the offices of the many clerks and functionaries who served the head magistrate. At the center of the yamen was the tribunal hall where petitioners and criminals alike knelt before the magistrate to await judgment. At the back were the dismal holding cells where the accused stayed to await either a hearing or execution.
The sun hung low in the late afternoon, casting long shadows over the courtyard. The tribunal appeared to have convened early, which was unusual. In the imperial capital there was always some dispute that needed to be resolved, regardless of the time of day.
Kaifeng went to the head magistrate’s office, but found the door closed and the shutters drawn. He knocked twice before entering.
“I apologize for my late arrival,” he began.
Li Yen caught Kaifeng’s eye from behind his desk and held up his hand in an impatient gesture. Magistrate Li was not alone at his desk. An official wearing a state robe and a stern expression sat opposite him.
It was that elder official who broke the silence. “I trust you will take care of the matter, Magistrate.”
With that, the official rose and bowed. Li did the same; his bow dipping below his visitor’s to denote his lower rank. Kaifeng supposed he should have bowed, as well, but the official didn’t pause to accept any such gesture of civility. He spared Kaifeng a disapproving glance as he brushed past.
Li invited him to sit. “This is not good news, Wu. That was a representative from the Ministry of Personnel on an unofficial visit.”
Kaifeng regarded him unblinking. “Unofficial?”
“He suggested that you be dismissed.”
The news struck him like a blow to the gut. Not only was it unexpected, it was irrational. Kaifeng lowered himself into a chair as he tried to collect his thoughts. “I’ve performed my duties without fail.”
“I know you have, Wu.” Li rubbed a hand over his temples, looking even more youthful in his bewilderment. “You’ve been exceptional. He gave no reason for this demand, only that there were others of more notable rank that were in agreement.”
“Why would anyone of rank even know of me?”
“It seems we’ve angered someone.”
Kaifeng kept his tone even. “Then I am no longer employed?”
Less than an hour ago, he had been dreaming of laying down roots in the city. Before coming to Changan, he had been scraping together a coin here and there. Then Li had offered him the position as head constable. Kaifeng had thought he could make a new life here.
Magistrate Li regarded him for a long time. “Who have you offended, Wu?”
“No one that I know of.”
“Are you certain?”
“Criminals feel accosted when they’re caught,” he offered. His was a hated position, without doubt.
Li snorted, then folded his hands before him while his brow furrowed in thought. The magistrate’s features were often described as boyish, which was not a compliment for someone of authority. He was famous for not only passing the imperial exams at an early age, but passing in the third spot. Apparently among the elite this was a source of bitterness and envy as much as admiration.
“You did not answer the question, Magistrate,” Kaifeng interrupted. “Am I to be dismissed?”
“No, of course not.”
“I wouldn’t blame you if you did so.”
“Dismissing
