Chapter 8: Night Rain Approaching

Xue Wenbin had not gone far down the path toward the back courtyard when he stopped.

Autumn darkened early. Just past the you hour, the sky had already deepened to dark indigo.

No lamps were lit in the Xue family's back courtyard; only a few threads of dim candlelight filtered over from the main compound, barely lighting the pitted flagstones underfoot.

He stood at the fork where the path branched toward Xue Miao's yard, one hand resting on the hilt of the short knife at his waist, fingers moving absently over the cowhide cord wound around the grip.

He and Xue Miao had not met for three years.

The last time was when he came home for the New Year. He had glimpsed Xue Miao from a distance in the ancestral hall, sitting in his wheelchair, pushed into a corner. He had not said a single word from start to finish, nor had anyone spoken to him.

Xue Wenbin had been busy at the time fending off Wang Guizhi's cross-examination - how was business in the prefectural city, how much silver had he made, had he set his eye on any girl - and had no attention to spare for this half-brother.

The truth was, no one in the whole Xue household paid Xue Miao any mind. A cripple paralyzed in bed, a concubine's son who could only huddle in a corner even at the ancestral sacrifices - to be allowed one more breath of air in the Xue house was a gift.

But today, standing at the fork in the path, remembering what he had seen at the shop, a thought he had never once had surfaced in Xue Wenbin's mind: was Xue Miao really as unambitious and unworldly as he appeared?

Cen Sheng had opened a shop at the east end of the village. He had asked the old neighbors of Tailor Wang: that shopfront had stood empty for three months, then a few days ago someone suddenly rented it, paying a full year's rent up front.

Cen Sheng had toiled like an ox for twelve years in the Xue house, and every copper she scraped from between her teeth had gone into Xue Wenyan's tuition and his examination traveling money. Where would she find silver for rent?

There had to be someone behind her. And in all the Xue household, apart from Xue Miao, Xue Wenbin could think of no one who both had that silver to spare and would spend it on a discarded wife.

Then where had Xue Miao's silver come from?

Xue Wenbin gathered his thoughts back, released the knife hilt, and turned onto the gray-brick path leading to the secluded yard.

The weeds on either side nearly swallowed the path; withered yellow leaves brushed his trouser legs with a dry rustle.

A damp, earthy smell hung in the air, and thick clouds pressed on the horizon. It looked like a heavy rain would fall before the night was out.

The yard gate stood ajar, a flicker of candlelight showing through the gap. Xue Wenbin was about to push it - his hand had just touched the panel - when the door was pulled open from within.

Ling Mo stood in the doorway, his black clothes nearly melting into the night, his face without any expression at all. He looked at Xue Wenbin with eyes calm as dead water - no surprise, no hostility - simply blocking the door, with no intention of stepping aside.

"Third Young Master." Ling Mo's voice was as flat as his face. "Second Master has retired for the night."

Xue Wenbin smiled. Years of trade had thrown him together with every sort of person, and he had long since perfected the art of saying human words to humans and ghost words to ghosts.

Ling Mo's coldness did not drive him back - it only confirmed his judgment: there was something in this courtyard that Xue Miao did not want seen.

"What poor timing, then." Xue Wenbin leaned an arm against the doorframe, his tone as casual as small talk with an old acquaintance. "Still - trouble Brother Ling to go in and pass a word to Second Brother. Tell him Wenbin is back and would like to renew old acquaintance. Three years without a visit - you won't refuse me even a cup of tea, surely."

He pitched his voice neither loud nor soft - just enough to carry across the courtyard to the main room.

Ling Mo didn't move, and didn't answer. He only tilted his head slightly, as if waiting for the word from within.

After a moment's silence, Xue Miao's voice came out of the main room, neither loud nor low, level as the surface of a windless lake:

"Ling Mo. Let the third one in."

Only then did Ling Mo step aside. As Xue Wenbin passed him, he let his eyes linger, deliberately or not.

This silent, closemouthed guard in black - he had not seen him three years ago. Which meant Ling Mo had come to Xue Miao's side only in these last years. A paralyzed concubine's son who never left his room - where had he found a trained fighter for a servant?

The furnishings of the main room were exactly as they had been twelve years ago.

Xue Wenbin remembered sneaking into this room to play as a child - back then Xue Miao had not long broken his leg, thin as a bundle of kindling, lying silent on the bed, eyes fixed on the roof beams, a whole day at a stretch.

Wang Guizhi forbade the household from entering this yard, saying the second son had caught an unclean illness, that coming near was to risk infection. Only Cen Sheng had stolen over every few days, leaving half a steamed bun or a bowl of thin congee on the threshold.

The furniture today was still the same few pieces, only scrubbed clean. An oil lamp burned on the table, its wick trimmed neat, the flame motionless.

Xue Miao sat beneath the window in an old blue robe washed nearly white, the thin blanket across his knees. He held no book in his hand and did nothing at all - only sat quietly, as if waiting for someone.

Or, say, waiting for Xue Wenbin.

"Three years away, and the house has changed a great deal." Xue Wenbin sat down across from Xue Miao, drew the short knife from his waist, and laid it on the table. Blade meeting tabletop rang out crisp and clear, jarringly loud in the quiet room. He did it deliberately, to see Xue Miao's reaction. Xue Miao didn't so much as blink.

"Is your business in the prefectural city going well?" Xue Miao asked.

"Thanks to Second Brother's fortune, it gets by." Xue Wenbin poured himself a cup of tea. It was cold; he didn't care, tipped his head back and swallowed it in one go, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "The cloth trade has been hard these two years. Goods from the south get squeezed at every toll station along the waterways; by the time they reach the prefectural city the profit is thin as a sheet of paper. Luckily I've mixed familiar with the yamen people - I run a few errands for them now and then, earn a few hard coppers to cover expenses."

As he spoke he kept his eyes on Xue Miao's face. The candle flame flickered over it, bright and dim, carving that lean face like knife-work on stone.

Twelve years lived without daylight had left no mark of decay on this man. Instead it had polished him like a blade wrapped in layer upon layer of cloth. You could not see the edge - but you could feel the cold seeping through the wrapping.

Xue Wenbin realized suddenly that he had never truly known this second brother at all.

"You've heard about Elder Brother?" Xue Wenbin set down the cup, and the smile left his face.

"I have." said Xue Miao. "I was present when Clerk Song came."

"And I hear Sister-in-law was there too. I hear Sister-in-law even directed Clerk Song to search the shrine hall." Xue Wenbin kept his tone idle as he said it, but his gaze had gone suddenly sharp, the way a merchant hunts for an opponent's opening across the bargaining table. "Second Brother - what a coincidence, isn't it? For twelve years Sister-in-law was meek and dutiful, never raised her voice. Then the very day Elder Brother falls, she's suddenly another person - directing officials to search the shrine hall, opening a shop at the east end of the village. How does a person change so completely in a single night?"

Xue Miao raised his eyes and met Xue Wenbin's gaze, his voice as unhurried as ever:

"What do you think?"

"I think someone is backing her." Xue Wenbin leaned back in his chair, crossed one leg over the other, and drummed his fingers on the table. "Someone who could back Sister-in-law and win Sister-in-law's trust - in the Xue house there are only two candidates. One is me. The other is you. Since it wasn't me, that leaves Second Brother."

The smile still hung at the corner of his mouth as he spoke, but his other hand, resting on his knee, had quietly clenched.

The oil lamp's flame jumped; the shadows of the two men swayed on the wall, then settled. Xue Miao regarded Xue Wenbin for a long moment. What he finally said was the last thing Xue Wenbin expected.

"You care very much who backs her?"

"Of course I care." Xue Wenbin dropped his leg, leaned forward, and lowered his voice. "If the person behind Sister-in-law is you, then I have to ask Second Brother - while you're helping her, have you thought about what comes after? What was found in the shrine hall is Father's old ledger. It records not only the stone trade but the bribes paid into the county office, the silver that bought off the head of the laborers - even Cen Wangshan's death. If those things reach the imperial censor's hands, what burns isn't only my sister-in-law. It's the entire Xue family. Second Brother, you bear the name Xue. We are grasshoppers tied to the same string."

"Grasshoppers tied to the same string." Xue Miao repeated the words, his tone unreadable - half mockery, half a man chewing on an absurd joke. "A man who hasn't left this courtyard in twelve years is also a grasshopper?"

Xue Wenbin opened his mouth and, for once, found nothing to say.

"You came to me to ask whether I can fish Xue Wenyan out." Xue Miao gave him no time to recover, going on in that same level tone. "I can give you the answer now - no."

"I only wanted to ask -"

"And you were going to tell me," Xue Miao cut him off, his voice not loud but carrying an unarguable weight, "that you are in a hurry. And that what you're anxious about is not Xue Wenyan's life or death. It's that if the Xue family falls, your business in the prefectural city loses its pillar. You have ties to the county office and ties to the Wang family's shops. If the Xue ship capsizes, you, Third Son Xue, will not come out well either. So you rode through the night, went first to the county office for word, and only then came home. And you come to me to see whether I hold any counterweight that could turn the board."

The smile was gone from Xue Wenbin's face entirely. He sat up straight, palm flat on the tabletop, the cool of the gray brick seeping through his skin into his bones, bit by bit. Every argument he had rehearsed on the way here had been picked apart by Xue Miao as if idly - like unpicking a garment sewn with a crooked stitch: one pull on the thread, and it all came undone.

"Second Brother knows a great deal." Xue Wenbin was silent a while, and when he spoke again his voice had dropped several degrees. "Then I'll stop circling. Yes - I reached Qingping County last night. I crouched outside the county office half the night. The news I gathered was thin, but one item matters: what the imperial censor has come to investigate is not only the river-dike corruption. He holds a lead on another old case. One that concerns you."

Xue Miao said nothing. He only lowered his eyes.

"The person who pushed you from your horse twelve years ago - have they found him?" Xue Wenbin fixed his eyes on him. "I asked Mother just now. She says the old servant was a Qingzhou man who went home three years ago. But I don't believe her. Mother is a woman who can't hold a secret in her chest. If that old servant really were from Qingzhou, her hands wouldn't have shaken when she said it."