Even the longest night in the end shall pass.

The flames died, the blackness outside the tent brightened to a chilly white, and the soldiers, in response presumably to an order, went shouting to form their ranks. The last shadows remaining on the tent belonged to the two posted at its entrance.

Wumei suddenly raised his voice in a chant, while Zhang Ping paced beside him. One soldier raised the flap impatiently and entered the tent. “Stop wailing! Wait till…”

A metal alms bowl filled with earth struck him on the back of the head, and his vision darkened.

The other soldier heard something unusual, came in, and also felt a pain at the back of the head and dropped to the ground.

Wumei bowed repeatedly in the direction of the two unconscious soldiers and joined Zhang Ping in quickly removing their clothes and headgear, which the two of them put on before leaving the tent.

Wumei glanced at the shed where the bodies had been kept. Behind him, a voice said, “Stop dawdling, go line up for roll call!”

Wumei and Zhang Ping ducked their heads and responded affirmatively. The soldier who had called out of them went elsewhere to hurry others, and the two of them raced towards the village.

They avoided the road leading to the village god’s temple, sticking to the walls of the residences. Dense clouds covered the sky, and not a breath of wind blew. The houses in the village all looked the same, and several turns down the line, Wumei began to feel dizzy. He stole a glance at Zhang Ping, walking in front with his face a picture of determination. “A-Ping, where are you going?”

Just as determined, Zhang Ping looked up ahead. “I don’t know. Just walking for now.”

Wumei was bewildered. Then he heard a faint sound behind him and turned to look; it was the little boy they had met yesterday when they entered the village, clinging to the top of a fence and staring at the two of them with huge eyes.

Wumei froze, and the little boy slid down and shouted towards the house, “Grandpa, Grandpa!”

Wumei’s mind roared. He grabbed Zhang Ping and tried to run, but Zhang Ping didn’t budge.

The door of the residence’s main building opened, and the old man they had encountered the day before outside the village walked out. He looked the two of them over, then opened his gate.

Zhang Ping and Wumei entered the yard and followed the old man into the main building. The old man said to the boy, “Go, get two bowls of soup.”

Zhang Ping saluted him. “Thank you, sir, there is no need to feed us. We’ll leave at once. I only wanted to ask you a few things.”

“The whole village is surrounded,” said the old man. “Getting out won’t be easy. Wait for nightfall and see if you can leave by the main entrance, then take the road I described to you yesterday. Don’t make for Bridgehead Village. They must be surrounded too, even worse than here. And when the villagers see you’re strangers, they’ll bring you to the authorities.”

“Thank you for the advice,” said Zhang Ping. “What I would like to ask is how to get to the house of Xiaozhao, who died recently.”

The old man went still for a moment. “Why do you want to go there?”

“My belief is that there’s something wrong with all these deaths,” said Zhang Ping.

The old man sighed. “Young Daozhang, at a time like this, the best thing you can do is get out if you can. Don’t bother about anything else.”

Wumei nodded, meanwhile crying inwardly, A-Ping, take the old fellow’s advice, those two soldiers in the tent might be awake already, if we don’t run now, we’ll never leave this village!

“Only by discovering the cause of these deaths can the present difficulty be resolved,” said Zhang Ping solemnly. “That is the only way we will truly be able to leave unscathed.”

This silenced the old man. Wumei stepped in to conciliate. “What my shidi means is that, so close to the Zhongyuan Festival, the spirits of the dead will be restless, and as followers of the Dao, we cannot stand by and watch. We must do all we can to help them move on.”

The old man’s expression became even more helpless. Zhang Ping rose to his feet. “Since you have no information for me, sir, I will bid farewell.”

The old man sighed. “When you leave here, turn right and go south along the track paved with narrow bricks. Under the old scholar tree there, it’s the house closest to the village, made up of two buildings. Xiaozhao isn’t from Stonybend originally, so his house is smaller than the rest.”

“Where is he from?” asked Zhang Ping.

“Bridgehead Village,” said the old man. “You can tell by his family name—Qiao, pronounced like ‘bridge.’ Here in Stonybend, our main families are Shi, Zhang, and Chen. My family name is Shi, and everyone in the village with that name is related to me. Over in Bridgehead Village, the main families are Qiao and Xiao.”

“Then how did he end up here?” asked Wumei.

Again Old Shi sighed. “That child had a hard life. Only child of his parents, and they called him Xiaozhao, with the character for ‘summon,’ hoping he’d summon up a few more babes. Instead, when the plague hit, his parents died. I’ve heard it was his father who got it first. His mother locked his father up indoors and wouldn’t let Xiaozhao get near. His mother was bitten by his father. She knew she’d get sick and didn’t want to infect Xiaozhao, so she killed herself. He was his family’s sole survivor. The government brought the bodies of the dead from Bridgehead to the empty fields here and burned them all together, so he asked the government to let him live here, close to that patch of earth. It was a great display of filial piety, and the government took pity on his bitter lot as an orphan and granted him the house that was due him here. They built two little buildings on the edge of the village. Who’d ever have thought that this time, he’d end up…”

Wumei’s eyes stung. “The others Qiaos in Bridgehead must be his relatives. Why didn’t they look after him?”

Old Shi said, “It was as much as anyone could do to look out for themselves then. Bridgehead Village was hit worse than us in Stonybend. Entire families were wiped out.”

“And the disease came from the river?” asked Zhang Ping.

Old Shi nodded. “That’s right, a mad dog died by the river and polluted the water. It was right between our two villages. We’re upstream here, and Bridgehead Village is downstream, so they had it worse. They thought the dog came from our village, that the body washed down from us. There was some strife between our villages on that account, but actually no one ever knew where that dog came from.”

Wumei picked up his sleeves and wiped his eyes. “Listen, sir, to tell you the truth, my shidi and I are both orphans. Flood and plague went through our part of the country, and our parents died. We were taken in by our shifu and went to the temple. That’s why my shidi is so insistent that he can’t stand by and watch. He has to find a way to help.”

Old Shi sighed. “Restrain your grief, young Daozhang. Man is truly nothing in this world. Anyone can die, just like that.”

“Commander Yu’s older brother was also infected and died,” said Zhang Ping. “He lived nearby at the time?”

“Yes,” said Old Shi, “the Yu family’s villa is only a few li from here. The commander’s brother often went out into the wilds to hunt. That must be how he was infected. There was no saving him.”

Zhang Ping nodded and bade farewell to Old Shi. Old Shi sent his grandson to look outside and confirm that no one was around, and he gave Zhang Ping and Wumei two buns.

“Hurry back when you’re finished. The soldiers aren’t searching the houses. You can think of some way to leave in the evening.”

Zhang Ping and Wumei thanked Old Shi warmly and left the house with every caution, following the little track the old man had described. They hadn’t gone far when they once again heard the shouts of soldiers.

The two of them held their breath and clung to a wall. They found that the soldiers were making the rounds of all the houses; soldiers everywhere, unavoidable. Wumei and Zhang Ping simply threw caution to the wind in the face of this threat and walked boldly out into the street.

The track Old Shi had described wasn’t part of the soldiers’ main focus. They brushed shoulders now and then with a few of them, and the soldiers, busy searching the houses, failed to scrutinize their faces. As if with divine aid, Wumei and Zhang Ping reached the little residence made up of only two buildings without incident.

In his agitation, Wumei scrambled ahead of Zhang Ping and reached the house first. Before he could touch the fence, he heard a shout from behind him. “You two, what’re you going in there for?!”

Wumei stiffened, while Zhang Ping turned and said, “The commander says the homes of the dead must be inspected again.”

“I see,” said the soldier. “Then why haven’t you covered your faces? Remember to wrap up your hands, too, and don’t touch anything inside. Wash the soles of your shoes when you get out!”

Wumei and Zhang Ping responded in the affirmative and produced the cloths they had received the day before to cover their noses and mouths, then pushed open the gate. Hearing footsteps receding behind them, Wumei at last breathed a sigh of relief and straightened his back, to which his clothes were plastered.

“Mei-ge, stay here and keep watch,” said Zhang Ping. "I’ll look around.”

“No,” said Wumei, “I came with you, and I’ll go look with you. Anyway, we’ll be caught at once if anyone notices us. It won’t matter if there’s a lookout.”

Zhang Ping agreed, and the two of them began by going around the yard.

There was no well in the yard, and no livestock pens or chicken coops. Outside the kitchen was a large water vat, intact, with nothing inside it but some sun-dried moss at the bottom.

Zhang Ping also glanced into the woodshed, which had hardly any firewood in it, then went indoors.

Wumei stepped after him over the threshold and at once felt a chill. He couldn’t resist reciting inwardly, We mean no offense, pardon us, pardon us…

Xiaozhao’s clothes, bedding, and personal possessions had been removed and burned along with his body. The bed was gone as well. Only a solitary wardrobe remained, standing against a wall. The wardrobe doors were open, and the inside was completely empty.

Zhang Ping circled the space, went to pace the floor in one part of the inner room, then crouched down. “Mei-ge, look at this.”

The floor here had a shine to it, as if it had been scrubbed with unusual vigor.

Zhang Ping looked around again. “This must be where he put his bed.”

“Well, could this shiny spot be where he usually kept the chamberpot?” Wumei guessed.

Zhang Ping frowned. “This is where the head of the bed goes. Chamberpots are usually at the foot.”

Wumei made another guess: “Perhaps he sat at the head of the bed and washed his feet every day?”

Zhang Ping stood, saying nothing.

For no apparent reason, Wumei broke out in a wave of gooseflesh. He kept feeling a chill circling his heart.

“A-Ping, let’s go, this place is eerie. It’s the fourteenth of the seventh month today. We’re better off avoiding the homes of the dead. Everything’s been removed from here, anyway. There’s nothing left.”

Zhang Ping looked again at the shiny patch of floor. “You’re right, Shixiong. The spot where the bed stood is cleaner than the rest of the floor.”

Huh? That’s not what I meant.

Wumei clutched his head. “Maybe when the villagers came to get his things, they cleaned up.”

Zhang Ping quickly left the room and went into the kitchen. He approached the small stove next to the range. He pulled down the cloth covering his face and sniffed the stove.

Wumei yanked him back. “A plague victim used that. You’re playing with your life!”

Zhang Ping wrapped his sleeve around his hand and prodded the innards of the stove. “This is a coal-burning stove, and it has a medicinal smell. It was used to brew medicine.”

Once again, this gave Wumei pause. Farming families burned wood in their kitchen ranges and rarely used coal-burning stoves. A small stove like this would ordinarily be brought out in winter for its warmth, or to heat up wine or food in a pot. Used year round, it could only be for the purpose of brewing medicine.

Zhang Ping searched the whole kitchen; apart from one large iron pot on the range, no cookware or dishes remained.

He went back outside and looked again at the large water vat, strode over to the woodshed, threw himself into its depths, and crawled into a corner.

Wumei was about to run over and pull him back when Zhang Ping let out a soft cry. He scrambled out of the woodpile. “Shixiong, I found it!”

He had a few chicken feathers clutched in his hand.

“Shixiong, he really didn’t die of disease. I know who the killer is!”

The village was full of soldiers.

On leaving the little house, one had to go no more than a few steps to meet them.

Zhang Ping and Wumei walked to the center of the road and stood firm, shoulder to shoulder, in the face of a group of approaching soldiers. They removed their helmets. Wumei pulled down the cloth covering his face.

The soldiers paused, then instantly surged towards them.

Once again, Wumei and Zhang Ping were bound as tightly as two zongzi dumplings so the soldiers could escort them at pike-point to the Medicine King Temple.

Commander Yu was just about to set out for the other village. Zhang Ping called out to him, “There are two questions I would like the commander to resolve for me! First, how did your older brother die, Commander?”

Commander Yu, ready to step into a stirrup and mount his horse, put his foot back down and turned.

Zhang Ping continued: “I know the true cause of the victims’ deaths. I wish to speak privately with you, Commander.”

The soldiers wanted to gag him, but Commander Yu narrowed his eyes slightly and said, “Bring these two fake priests into the hall.”

Creak—

The doors of the hall slowly shut. The empty interior was gloomy.

Commander Yu put his hands behind his back and looked at Zhang Ping. “There’s no one else around, you can speak freely. You said just now that you know how the victims died?”

Zhang Ping bowed. “None of these people were infected, but their deaths are all connected to the plague that took place years ago. Your older brother was also infected and died then. What I want to ask you, Commander, is how did your brother come to be infected? Also…”

He raised his head and met Commander Yu’s eyes.

“I wish to know, when the management of diseases is the responsibility of the county yamen, why were you the one who came here, Commander?”