الفصل الحادي والعشرون

الفصل الحادي والعشرون

Speaking of Song Jiang, he took leave of Liu Tang and, riding on the full moonlight that filled the streets, strolled back at his leisure to his lodgings. As it happened, he ran into the old woman Yan, who hurried forward and called out, "Assistant Magistrate, I've sent for you many days in such a fine personage, so hard to get a glimpse of! Even if my little worthless one spoke some careless words that offended you, you might look upon this old face of mine and let me discipline her myself to make amends to you. Tonight this old woman has good fortune—I've gotten to see you. Come along with me for a while." Song Jiang said, "I've been busy with county business today and couldn't get away. I'll come another day." Old Woman Yan said, "That won't do at all. My daughter is waiting for you at home. Just show her some casual kindness—how can you be so hard-hearted!" Song Jiang said, "Truly I'm tied up at the moment. I'll definitely come tomorrow." Old Woman Yan said, "I want you to go with me tonight." She grabbed hold of Song Jiang's sleeve and said, "Who's been putting ideas in your head? My daughter and I depend on you for our living for the rest of our lives. Whatever gossip outsiders may say, pay it no mind—you make your own decisions. If my daughter has any faults, the blame is on this old body of mine. Just take the trouble to pay a visit." Song Jiang said, "Don't pester me. My affairs are tied up right here." Old Woman Yan said, "Even if you neglect a bit of official business, the county magistrate wouldn't necessarily punish you. If you miss this chance, the next one may be hard to come by. Just go with this old woman. When you get home, I'll explain everything." Song Jiang was a man of quick temper, and being pestered beyond endurance by the old woman, he said, "Let go of my hand and I'll come." Old Woman Yan said, "Don't you run off—an old woman can't keep up with you." Song Jiang said, "Is it really so urgent as that?" The two walked along together until they reached the door. Truly:

Wine does not intoxicate—men intoxicate themselves.

Flowers do not beguile—people beguile themselves.

Even if one could repent today,

Why not refrain from going in the first place?

Song Jiang stopped at the threshold. Old Woman Yan barred the way with her hand and said, "The Assistant Magistrate has come all this way—surely you're not going to refuse to enter." Song Jiang went in and sat on a bench inside. That old woman was cunning—as the saying goes, "How could an old procuress let him escape her clutches?" Fearing Song Jiang might leave, she sat down beside him and called out, "My daughter, your beloved Third Master is here." That Yan Poxian was lying on the bed, facing a solitary lamp, in a state of utter boredom, waiting only for that Little Zhang Three to come. Hearing her mother cry, "Your beloved Third Master is here," the young woman thought it was Zhang San Lang, and hastily got up, smoothing her cloud-like hair with her hands, cursing under her breath: "That short-lived wretch! He's kept me waiting so miserably! This old mother will give him a couple of good slaps!" She flew downstairs like the wind and peered through the lattice—the glass lamp in the front hall was bright, and she saw it was Song Jiang. The young woman turned around and went back upstairs, throwing herself on the bed as before.

Old Woman Yan heard her daughter's footsteps coming downstairs, then heard her going back upstairs. The old woman called again, "My daughter, your Third Master is here—why have you turned and walked away?" Poxian answered from the bed, "It's not that far in this house—he could come up himself. He's not blind either. Why doesn't he come up on his own instead of waiting for me to greet him? There's no end to this nagging!" Old Woman Yan said, "This worthless creature truly didn't expect the Assistant Magistrate to come—she's frustrated. Well, even so, it might be good to let him hear a couple of words from her." The old woman laughed and said, "Assistant Magistrate, I'll go upstairs with you."

Having heard those few words from the young woman, Song Jiang was already five parts displeased in his heart; but the old woman pulled at him, and he reluctantly went upstairs.

It was a six-raftered upstairs room. The front half had a spring table and benches; the rear half was set up as a bedroom, with a three-paneled flower bed against the inner wall; railings on both sides, with a red silk canopy hanging above; a clothes stand on the side, with a hand towel draped over it; a wash basin here; a gold-lacquered table with a pewter lamp; two low stools on the side; a painting of a court lady on the wall facing the bed; four folding chairs arranged in a row opposite the bed.

When Song Jiang arrived upstairs, Old Woman Yan dragged him into the bedroom. Song Jiang sat on a low stool facing the bed. Old Woman Yan pulled her daughter up from the bed and said, "The Assistant Magistrate is here. My daughter, you're just too hot-tempered and said things that offended him, so the Assistant Magistrate stopped coming. Yet in his spare time he thinks of you at home. I've gone to great trouble to get him here—won't you even get up and say a few words to him? You're just being stubborn!" Poxian pushed her hand away and said to the old woman, "What are you making all this racket for? I haven't done anything wrong! He stopped coming on his own—how am I supposed to make amends?"

Song Jiang listened but said nothing. The old woman pushed a chair over below Song Jiang's seat, then urged her daughter forward, saying, "You sit with Third Brother for a while. If you won't keep him company with conversation, so much the better—don't be impatient. You two haven't seen each other for a long time now. Say something affectionate." But the girl would not go over there. She sat down opposite Song Jiang instead. Song Jiang lowered his head and said nothing. When the old woman looked at her daughter, she too had turned her face away. Old Mother Yan said, "Without wine and provisions, how can we hold a memorial service? I have a good bottle of wine here. Let me buy some fruit and keep the押司 company. Daughter, you sit here and keep the押司 company. Don't be shy—I'll be right back." Song Jiang thought to himself, "I'm trapped by this old woman. I can't get away. When she goes downstairs, I'll slip out right after her." The old woman saw that Song Jiang wanted to leave. When she went out the door, she noticed there was a latch, so she pulled the door shut and fastened the latch. Song Jiang thought secretly, "That old biddy has outmaneuvered me."

Now let us tell of Old Mother Yan going downstairs. She first went to the kitchen and lit a lamp. There was already a pot of hot water on the stove, so she threw in some more kindling. Then she took some loose silver and went out to the lane entrance to buy some fresh seasonal fruits, live fish, tender chickens, pickled fish, and the like. When she returned home, she arranged everything on plates. She poured the wine into a basin, ladled half a dipperful, warmed it in the pot, and then poured it into the wine flask. She prepared several dishes of vegetables, three wine cups, three pairs of chopsticks, and carried everything up to the second story on a tray, setting it on the spring table. She opened the door, carried everything in, and arranged it on the table. She looked at Song Jiang—he just kept his head down. She looked at her daughter—she too was facing somewhere else. Old Mother Yan said, "Daughter, get up and pour the wine." Yao Xi said, "You all drink by yourselves. I'm not in the mood!" The old woman said, "Daughter, ever since you were little your father and I have indulged your temper, but you can't carry on like this in front of others." Yao Xi said, "So what if I don't pour the wine? Are they going to fly a sword through the air and cut off my head?" The old woman laughed and said, "So it's my fault again. The押司 is a man of refinement and won't stoop to quarrel with you. If you won't pour the wine, never mind—just turn your face this way and have a cup." But Yao Xi would not turn her head. The old woman herself brought the wine over and urged Song Jiang to drink. Song Jiang reluctantly drank a cup. The old woman smiled and said, "押司, don't take offense. Put all that gossip aside—I'll tell you about it slowly tomorrow. The outsiders see you here, and they're all hot with jealousy, talking nonsense, farting and cursing. Don't listen to any of it—just enjoy your drink." She poured three cups on the table and said, "Daughter, don't be so childish—just drink a cup of wine." Yao Xi said, "Stop pestering me! I'm full. I can't drink any more." Old Mother Yan said, "Daughter, it's only right that you keep Third Brother company with a cup of wine."

Yao Xi listened to this, and at the same time she thought to herself, "My heart belongs to Zhang San. Who has the patience to keep this fellow company? If I don't get him drunk, he'll only pester me." So Yao Xi reluctantly picked up the wine and drank half a cup. The old woman smiled and said, "Daughter, you're just being impatient—relax and drink a couple of cups and go to sleep.押司, you too, drink your fill." Song Jiang couldn't resist her urging and drank three or four cups in a row. The old woman also drank several cups herself, then went downstairs again to warm more wine.

The old woman had been displeased when her daughter wouldn't drink, but now that she saw her daughter had a change of heart and was drinking, she was delighted. "If we can keep him here tonight, that man's anger will all be forgotten. I'll keep him entangled a while longer, and then we'll see." While she was thinking this, she went to the kitchen and drank three large cups of wine by the stove. She felt a tingling numbness coming over her, so she poured another bowl and drank it. She warmed half a dipperful, poured it into the flask, and climbed upstairs. She saw Song Jiang sitting there with his head bowed, saying nothing, and her daughter turning her face away, toying with her skirt. The old woman laughed loudly and said, "You two—are you made of clay? Why are you both so silent?押司, you ought to be a real man—put on a bit of tenderness and say something amusing." Song Jiang was at a loss for what to do. He kept his mouth shut and his mind torn between staying and leaving. Yan Guoxi thought to himself, "If you won't pay any attention to me, don't expect your old mother to come and chat and joke with you as I normally do. I'm not going to play along now." The old woman had drunk a great deal of wine and kept babbling on about this and that—the Zhang family this, the Li family that, chattering about everything under the sun. There is a poem that bears witness:

If you keep a lone old man from leaving,

With flowered words and fair speech they'll work their way.

How many clever souls have fallen into their trap—

After death, their tongues should be pulled out and flayed.

Now in Yuncheng County there was a man who sold pickled vegetables, the second brother of the Tang family, called Tang the Ox. He spent his days on the street as a loiterer and idler, and often received gifts from Song Jiang. When he had some legal matter to bring before Song Jiang, he would get a few strings of cash in return. And when Song Jiang had need of him, he would rush forward without regard for his own life.

That evening, having lost at gambling and finding himself with no way to make do, he went to the county office to look for Song Jiang, then hurried to his lodgings, but could not find him there. The neighbors said, "Second Brother Tang, whom are you looking for in such a rush?"

Tang the Ox said, "I'm desperate. I'm looking for my patron, and I can't find him anywhere."

The others asked, "Who is your patron?"

Tang the Ox replied, "It's the county clerk, Song Jiang, the yayi."

The others said, "We just saw him pass by with Old Woman Yan, the two of them walking together."

Tang the Ox said, "That's it then. That cursed slut Yan Po Xi—she and that Zhang Three have been as hot as a burning coal for each other, and they've only kept it from the yayi. She must have gotten wind of things and hasn't visited him for some time. Tonight that old biting insect must have lured him there with her fake charms. I've no money, I'm desperate, so I'll go there and scrounge a few strings of cash and help myself to a couple of cups of wine."

He ran straight to Old Woman Yan's door. Inside he saw lamplight, but the door was not closed. He went inside and, reaching the landing of the stairway, heard Old Woman Yan laughing on the upper floor. Tang the Ox crept up the stairs on tiptoe and peered through a crack in the wall panel. He saw Song Jiang and Yan Po Xi both with their heads bowed, and the old woman sitting beside the side table, chattering on about this and that.

Tang the Ox slipped in and, looking at Old Woman Yan, Song Jiang, and Yan Po Xi, gave three respectful greetings and stood to one side. Song Jiang thought to himself, "This fellow's arrival is most opportune." He jerked his chin downward.

Tang the Ox was a sharp fellow and took the hint. Looking at Song Jiang, he said, "I've looked everywhere for you, and here you are drinking and having a good time, nice and comfortable!"

Song Jiang said, "Could there be some urgent business at the county office?"

Tang the Ox said, "Yayi, how could you forget? It's that matter from this morning—the county magistrate is furious in the hall and has sent four or five shifts of runners to your lodgings looking for you. They couldn't find you anywhere, and the magistrate is beside himself with anxiety. You should leave at once."

Song Jiang said, "If it's that urgent, I'll have to go." He rose to go downstairs, but the old woman blocked his way.

"Don't play that trick, yayi! This Tang the Ox has come here on some pretext, and you, you sly rascal, think you can fool me too! This is like 'a master carpenter wielding a big axe!' By now the county magistrate has gone back to his yamen and is drinking wine and enjoying himself with his wife. What business could possibly be pressing? That kind of trick might fool ghosts and goblins, but it won't work on me."

Tang the Ox said, "It really is urgent business the county magistrate is waiting for. I wouldn't lie about this."

Old Woman Yan said, "Blow it out your arse! My eyes are as clear as glass gourds. I just saw the yayi jerk his chin at you to put you up to this, and instead of urging him to come into my house, you're trying to trick him away. As the saying goes: 'You may forgive a murder, but you cannot forgive what offends all reason and decency!'"

The old woman leaped to her feet and shoved Tang the Ox hard by the neck. He staggered and stumbled all the way down the stairs from the room.

Tang the Ox said, "Why did you shove me?"

The old woman shouted, "Don't you know that to ruin a man's livelihood is like killing his parents and wife? Raise your voice any higher and I'll beat the daylights out of you, you beggar!"

Tang the Ox lunged forward and said, "Hit me then!" The old woman, riding on her wine, spread her five fingers and slapped Tang the Ox twice across the face in quick succession, sending him tumbling right out past the curtain. The old woman then pulled the curtain aside, threw it behind the door, shut both doors, bolted them, and went on cursing.

Tang the Ox, having taken those two slaps, stood at the front door and shouted, "You old biting insect, don't you worry! If it weren't for the yayi's sake, I'd smash this house to pieces and make you regret the days of your life! If I don't finish you off, I'm not a Tang!" He slapped his chest and went off cursing.

The old woman went back upstairs and, looking at Song Jiang, said, "Why does the yayi pay any attention to that beggar? He goes around sponging drinks and stirring up trouble wherever he goes. That kind of good-for-nothing street rat has the nerve to come to people's homes and insult them!"

Song Jiang was an honest man, and the old woman's words struck right at his sore spot. He could not extract himself.

The old woman said, "Don't blame yourself in your heart, yayi. I've only ever valued and respected you. My girl and you just drink this cup. I can guess that you two haven't seen each other for some time and will want to retire early. Let's put things away and call it a night."

The old woman urged Song Jiang to drink two more cups, then gathered the cups and plates and went downstairs to the kitchen herself.

Song Jiang, upstairs, thought to himself: "This old woman's daughter and Zhang San have some sort of affair going on. I half believe it and half don't—I haven't actually seen the proof with my own eyes. If I were to go over there, she'd say I'm being a country bumpkin. Besides, it's late at night. I'll just sleep here for now and see how this woman behaves—what sort of mood she's in tonight."

Then he saw the old woman come upstairs again and say, "It's late now. I told you and your wife to sleep early." The young woman replied, "None of your business. Go to sleep yourself." The old woman laughed and went downstairs, saying, "Magistrate, rest well. Enjoy yourself tonight—take your time getting up tomorrow." The old woman went downstairs, tidied up the stove, washed her feet and hands, blew out the lamp, and went to sleep.

Now Song Jiang sat on a low stool, hoping that the woman would come to him as before, nestling up to him and making conversation, and he could muddle through a few more hours. Who would have thought that Po Xi was thinking to herself: "I only have Zhang San on my mind. This fellow's come and spoiled things—he's like a thorn in my eye. He actually expects me to fawn over him the way I used to. Well, I'm not playing that game anymore. They say you pull the boat to shore—but who ever pulled the shore to the boat? You ignore me? Fine—I'll do just fine without you."

Listen, good reader: lust is the most fickle thing of all. If a woman has her heart set on you, no amount of swords, fire, or water can hold her back—she fears nothing. But if she has no heart for you, you could sit atop a mountain of gold and silver and she wouldn't give you a second glance. As the saying goes: "When a beauty takes a liking, even a peasant looks handsome; when a beauty feels no love, even a dandy looks like a clown." Song Jiang was a bold, heroic man, but when it came to the ways of women, he had no skill at all. This Yan Po Xi was utterly spoiled by Zhang San's devoted attentions—his tender care, his coaxing and flattery, his seductive charm had thoroughly won her heart. How could she ever feel anything for Song Jiang?

That night the two of them sat facing each other beneath the lamp. Neither spoke. Each was lost in thought, waiting as though watching for the mud to dry before moving the statue into the temple. As the night deepened and the moon rose outside the window, they saw:

The Silver River gleamed bright, the water clock dripped slow.

Slanting moonlight pierced the window with a chill gleam; cool night air crept through the door.

The watchtower drum beat out the watches—one watch had not finished before the next was urged on;

In a distant courtyard, the cold washing stone resounded—a thousand poundings ended only to begin again.

Beneath the painted eaves, iron horses clanged, shattering the lonely traveler's heart;

Upon the silver lampstand, the flickering lamp cast its light, illuminating the sighs of the lady within.

The lustful woman's heart burned like fire; the righteous hero's spirit blazed like a rainbow.

Now Song Jiang, sitting on his stool, glanced sidelong at the woman and heaved another sigh. It must have been around the second watch. The woman did not even undress—she simply climbed into bed, leaned on her embroidered pillow, turned over, and faced the wall, going to sleep on her own. Song Jiang watched and thought to himself: "This wretched woman pays me no attention at all—she's just gone to sleep. I let this old woman's words sway me today, and she kept pressing wine on me. I couldn't get through it, and now it's late—I suppose I'll just have to sleep." He took off his headscarf and laid it on the table. He removed his outer robe and hung it on the clothes rack. He unbuckled the girdle from his waist—it carried a small knife and his document pouch—and hung it on the bed's side rail. He took off his silk shoes and clean socks, then climbed into bed and lay down behind the woman.

About half a watch later, he heard Po Xi laugh coldly from the foot of the bed. Song Jiang's heart was heavy—how could he sleep? As the old saying goes: "In joy, the night seems short; in loneliness, the watch feels long." He watched as the third watch gave way to midnight, and the sobering effect of the wine had worn off. He dragged himself through until the fifth watch. Song Jiang got up, washed his face with cold water from the basin, put on his outer robe, tied his headscarf, and cursed: "You wretched, shameless woman!" Po Xi hadn't been asleep either. When she heard Song Jiang cursing, she turned over and shot back: "You ought to be ashamed of yourself." Song Jiang swallowed his anger and went downstairs. The old woman Yan heard his footsteps and called from her bed: "Magistrate, go back to sleep until it's light. What's the point of getting up at the fifth watch?" Song Jiang made no reply—he just went to open the door. The old woman added: "When you leave, shut the door for me." Song Jiang stepped out and pulled the door shut behind him. Swallowing his fury with nowhere to vent it, he hurried back toward his lodgings. As he passed in front of the county offices, he saw a lamp burning—it was Old Man Wang, the medicine seller, who had come to the county offices for the early market.

The old man, seeing it was Song Jiang, said hastily, "Why is the warder out so early today?" Song Jiang replied, "I was drunk last night and misheard the night watchman's drum." Old Wang said, "The warder must have a hangover. Please have a bowl of the two-aged decoction to sober you up." Song Jiang said, "That would be best." He sat on the bench. The old man prepared a generous bowl of the two-aged decoction and handed it to Song Jiang to drink. Song Jiang drank it, then suddenly thought, "I have often taken his medicinal teas without ever being asked to pay. I once promised him a coffin but never gave it to him. I recall the gold Chao Gai sent me—I accepted one piece, which is in my document pouch. Why not give it to this old man for his coffin, to make him happy?" Song Jiang said, "Old Wang, I once promised you money for a coffin but have never given it to you. Today I have some gold here. Take it and go to Chen the Third's shop to buy a coffin and keep it at home. When your time comes, I will give you more for your funeral expenses." Old Wang said, "My benefactor has always looked after this old man and has now provided for my burial. I cannot repay you in this life—in the next I will repay you as a donkey or a horse." Song Jiang said, "Say no more." He lifted the front of his garment to take the document pouch, then gave a start of alarm. "Bitter fate! Last night I left it on the headboard rail of that wench's bed. In my anger, I only thought of leaving and did not tie it at my waist. These few ounces of gold are nothing—but there is the letter Chao Gai sent me, wrapped up with the gold. I had meant to burn it at the tavern in front of Liu Tang, so that when he returned he would say I had not thought of them. I was about to burn it at my lodgings, but that old woman Yan dragged me away. Last night I meant to burn it by the lamp, but I feared the wench might see, so I didn't burn it. This morning I left in a hurry and forgot it. I have often seen this woman reading song lyrics—she knows some characters. If she has found it, it will be disastrous!" He rose and said, "Old man, don't blame me. I am not lying—I thought the gold was in my document pouch, but I left in such a hurry that I forgot it at home. I will go fetch it for you." Old Wang said, "Don't bother to fetch it. You can give it to this old man slowly tomorrow." Song Jiang said, "Old man, you don't understand—I have another thing stored in the same place, which is why I must go get it." Song Jiang ran off in a frantic hurry back to the old woman Yan's house. Truly:

It was fated that the hero should have urgent business,

That heaven caused him to lose the treasure in his case.

He already knew that love brings only grievous bonds,

Who could have known that repaying a kindness would be the seed of disaster!

Now this Yan Poxi, hearing Song Jiang leave the door, scrambled up and said to herself, "That fellow kept me awake all night. That smug face—he thought I would swallow my pride and play along. I don't believe you! I get along fine with Zhang San on my own—who has the patience to pay you any mind? It's just as well you didn't come to the door!" As she spoke, she spread the bedding, took off her upper jacket, untied her lower skirt, bared her chest, and removed her undershirt. The lamp by the bed was still bright, illuminating the purple silk sash draped over the headboard rail. Poxi saw it and laughed, "That Dark Third has more than he can use—he forgot his sash here. I'll grab it and give it to Zhang San to wear." She reached for it with one hand and lifted up the document pouch together with the knife—the pouch felt somewhat heavy. She pulled her hand back and shook it over the table, and out fell the packet of gold and the letter. The woman picked them up and looked at them by the lamp—it was a gleaming bar of gold. Poxi laughed, "Heaven has sent Zhang San and me something to spend these past days. I have noticed Zhang San getting thin—I was just wanting to buy something to nourish him." She set the gold down and unfolded the letter to read by the lamp. On it was written Chao Gai's name and many matters. Poxi said, "Well! I always thought 'the bucket fell into the well'—but now the 'well has fallen into the bucket.' Zhang San and I have just been wanting to become husband and wife, and the only thing in our way was you, and today you have fallen into my hands! So you have been in league with the bandits of Liangshan Marsh—they sent you a hundred ounces of gold. Don't panic—I'll take my time tormenting you." She wrapped the gold back up in the letter as before and put it back in the document pouch. "Don't worry—even if you had the Five Saints fetch it away, I wouldn't care." She was talking to herself upstairs when she heard the door below creak open. The old woman called out, "Who is it?" Song Jiang said, "It's me." The old woman said, "I told you it was too early! The warder didn't believe me and wanted to leave—and now he's back so soon. Go back up and sleep with your sister a while longer, until daybreak." Song Jiang made no reply but rushed straight upstairs.

The woman, hearing that Song Jiang had returned, hastily bundled up the sash, the knife, and the document pouch into a single roll and hid it beneath the quilt. She pressed herself tightly against the back wall of the bed, pretending to be fast asleep with loud snores. Song Jiang strode into the room and went straight to the bedpost to retrieve them, but they were gone. His heart began to pound. Swallowing the anger from the previous night, he reached over and shook the woman. "For the sake of our past relationship, give me back the document pouch," he said. Yan Poxi pretended to be asleep and did not respond. Song Jiang shook her again. "Don't be so agitated. I'll make it up to you tomorrow." Poxi said, "This old woman is sleeping. Who's disturbing me?" Song Jiang said, "You know perfectly well it's me. Why pretend?" Poxi turned her body and said, "Blackie, what are you talking about?" Song Jiang said, "Give me back the document pouch." Poxi said, "Where did you hand it to me? And now you come asking me for it?" Song Jiang said, "I forgot—it was on the little railing behind your feet. There's no one else here. You must have taken it." Poxi said, "Pah! You're seeing ghosts!" Song Jiang said, "I was wrong last night. I'll make it up to you tomorrow. Just give it back to me. Don't play games." Poxi said, "Who's playing games? I never received it!" Song Jiang said, "You weren't undressed when you slept before, but now you're sleeping under a quilt. You must have taken it when you spread the bedding."

Poxi's willow-leaf brows shot up and her starlike eyes widened. "This old woman did take it, but I won't give it back! If you use the authorities, you'll have me arrested and condemned as a thief." Song Jiang said, "I've never falsely accused you of being a thief." Poxi said, "Well, you should know this old woman isn't a thief!" Hearing these words, Song Jiang grew even more anxious. "I've never treated you and your mother poorly," he said. "Give it back to me! I have business to attend to." Poxi said, "You're always scolding this old woman over that Zhang San. He has his faults compared to you, but he doesn't deserve a capital crime—unlike you, who are in league with robbers and bandits." Song Jiang said, "Good sister, don't shout. If the neighbors hear, it won't be a laughing matter."

Poxi said, "You're afraid of others hearing? Then you shouldn't have done what you did! This letter I've kept safely. If you want me to spare you, just agree to three conditions and it's settled."

Song Jiang said, "Not just three—even thirty conditions I'll agree to." Poxi said, "I'm afraid you won't be able to." Song Jiang said, "Whatever you say, I'll do it. May I ask what those three conditions are?"

Yan Poxi said, "First, from today you must return the original deed of indenture to me. Then write a document granting me permission to marry Zhang San, and swear you'll never contest it." Song Jiang said, "That I can agree to." Poxi said, "Second, everything I wear on my head, everything I wear on my body, and everything used in this home—though you provided it all—must also be covered by a document, and you must swear you'll never come asking for it back." Song Jiang said, "That too I can agree to." Yan Poxi then said, "I'm afraid you won't be able to agree to the third." Song Jiang said, "I've already agreed to two. Why can't I agree to this one?" Poxi said, "There's the hundred ounces of gold that Chao Gai of Liangshan Marsh gave you. Hand it over to me right now, and I'll spare you this first-class lawsuit and return the evidence in your document pouch." Song Jiang said, "The other two I can agree to. As for that hundred ounces of gold—if it was indeed given to me, I refused to accept it and sent it back as before. If by some chance it were here, I'd hand it over to you with both hands." Poxi said, "How interesting! As the saying goes, 'A public official sees money the way a fly sees blood.' If someone sent gold to you, how could you possibly send it back? That's nonsense! Among men of the law, 'which cat doesn't crave fish?' 'Before King Yama, no ghost gets sent back!' Who are you trying to fool? Just give me that hundred ounces of gold—what's it worth to you? If you're afraid it's stolen goods, melt it down and give it to me." Song Jiang said, "You should know I'm an honest man who doesn't lie. If you don't believe me, give me three days—I'll sell my household goods and get you a hundred ounces of gold. Just return my document pouch." Poxi said with a cold laugh, "You crafty Blackie, treating me like a child. I'll return the document pouch and the letter first, and in three days I'll ask you for the gold. That would be like 'the coffin's already out, then asking the dirge singer for his fee.' Here it's hand-to-hand—money for goods. Bring it here and we'll exchange on the spot." Song Jiang said, "I truly never had that gold." Poxi said, "When we get to the magistrate's office tomorrow, you can say the same thing."

When Song Jiang heard the words "magistrate's office," rage surged up within him, and he could no longer contain himself. He glared and said, "Will you give it back or not?"

The woman said, "You're so vicious—even if I wanted to return it, I couldn't do it fast enough!"

Song Jiang said, "You truly won't return it?" Poxi said, "No! Even if you gave me a hundred more chances, I still wouldn't! If you want it back, come to Yuncheng County for it!"

Song Jiang then reached to pull off the quilt covering Poxi. The woman had the item right beside her body, and caring nothing for the quilt, she clutched it tightly to her chest with both hands. Song Jiang pulled the quilt away and saw the end of the sash dangling from the woman's chest. "So that's where it is!" he thought. What's done is done—he grabbed for it with both hands. The woman refused to let go. Song Jiang fought desperately beside the bed, and Poxi held on for dear life. With a furious wrench, Song Jiang yanked it free, pulling the pressing knife out with it onto the mat. Song Jiang snatched it up in his hand.

When Song Jiang snatched up the knife, the woman cried, "Black Third Brother is going to kill someone!" That one cry stirred up the thought in Song Jiang. His belly was full of fury with nowhere to vent it. By the time A-Xi cried out a second time, Song Jiang had already seized the woman with his left hand. With his right, he brought the knife down and slashed once across her forehead. Blood spurted out. The woman still howled. Song Jiang, afraid she might not die, struck again, and her head, all alone and forlorn, tumbled onto the pillow. Behold:

Where the hand fell, youth lost its life;

Where the blade descended, beauty perished.

Her seven souls drifted away to the Hall of Yama;

Her three spirits faded toward the City of Wrongful Death.

Her starry eyes tightly shut, her body lay stiff upon the mat;

Her sandalwood lips half parted, her head fell by the pillow, wet with blood.

Beauty's glory has always faded in a moment—

On this day, who could still cherish that lovely face?

In a burst of rage, Song Jiang killed Yan Poxi. He took the document bag, drew out the letter, and burned it by the dying lamp. He fastened his sash and went downstairs. The old woman had been sleeping below and had heard the couple quarreling, but had paid no mind. Then she heard her daughter cry, "Black Third Brother is going to kill someone!" Not knowing what had happened, she jumped up in alarm, threw on her clothes, and rushed upstairs—running straight into Song Jiang. The old woman asked, "What are you two fighting about?" Song Jiang said, "Your daughter was beyond insolence. I've killed her." The old woman laughed and said, "What nonsense is this? Even if the magistrate's clerk has a fierce look and drinks too much and is always killing people, surely you're only joking with me." Song Jiang said, "If you don't believe me, go look in the room. I really did kill her." The old woman said, "I don't believe it." She pushed open the door and saw a corpse lying stiff in a pool of blood. The old woman cried, "Misery! What are we to do?" Song Jiang said, "I am a man of honor! I won't run away for all the world. Do whatever you like." The old woman said, "That wretch truly was no good, and the magistrate's clerk did right to kill her. But I have no one to support me." Song Jiang said, "That needn't trouble you. Since you put it that way, don't worry. I have ample means. I'll see that you are well fed and clothed and can live in comfort for the rest of your days." The old woman said, "That would be very good indeed. Many thanks, magistrate's clerk. But my daughter is lying dead on the bed—how shall we arrange the funeral?" Song Jiang said, "That's easy. I'll go to Chen Sanlang's house and buy a coffin for you. When the coroner comes to prepare the body, I'll instruct him myself. I'll also give you ten taels of silver for the expenses." The old woman thanked him and said, "The magistrate's clerk had best fetch a coffin before dawn and place the body in it, so that none of the neighbors see a thing." Song Jiang said, "Very well. Bring me paper and a brush and I'll write you a note to get it." The old woman said, "A note won't do. You must go yourself and fetch it, then they'll be willing to send it quickly." Song Jiang said, "That's fair enough."

The two went downstairs. The old woman went to the room, took the lock and key, and came out to the front door. She locked it and pocketed the key. Song Jiang and the old woman set off for the county office. It was still early, not yet dawn, but the county gate had just opened. The old woman led Song Jiang to the left side of the county office, seized him firmly, and began shouting, "There's a murderer here!" Song Jiang was thrown into a panic and clapped his hand over her mouth, saying, "Don't shout!" But he couldn't stop it. Several yamen runners came over, looked, and recognized Song Jiang. They tried to calm her, saying, "Old woman, shut up! The magistrate's clerk is not that sort of man. If there's a matter to settle, we can talk it over." The old woman said, "He is the murderer himself. Seize him for me and take him to the county office." Now Song Jiang was the best-liked man in the county, respected by high and low alike, and not a soul in the whole county would cross him. So none of the yamen runners were willing to lay hands on him, nor did they believe what the old woman said. There is a poem that testifies:

Good men in hardship all pity and spare;

The wicked unharmed all curse and despise.

It shows that one must examine oneself in life—

Only then will loyalty and righteousness hold in the hour of need.

Just when there was no one to help him, along came Tang the Ox, carrying a plate of washed pickled ginger, trying to make a sale before the county office. He saw the old woman clutching Song Jiang and shouting about injustice. Tang the Ox recognized the old woman and remembered all the pent-up rage from the night before. He set his plate down on the stool of the old man who sold medicine, pushed his way over, and shouted, "You old thief, why are you seizing the magistrate's clerk?" The old woman said, "Tang the Second, don't you dare snatch him away—you'll pay with your life!" Tang the Ox flew into a rage. He paid her no heed, wrenched her hands apart, and without asking what it was about, spread his five fingers and struck the old woman full across the face, sending stars spinning before her eyes. The old woman, dazed, had no choice but to let go. Song Jiang broke free and made straight for the busy streets.

The old woman then seized Tang the Ox, crying out, "Magistrate's clerk Song has killed my daughter, and you've snatched him away!" Tang the Ox, flustered, said, "How should I know anything about that?" The old woman shouted, "All of you, help me catch the murderer! If you don't, you'll all be implicated!" The yamen runners, out of respect for Song Jiang, were unwilling to act. But when it came to seizing Tang the Ox, there was no such hesitation. The men forward, one held the old woman, three or four grabbed Tang the Ox, dragged him down, and hauled him straight into Yuncheng County. Truly, fortune and disaster have no fixed gate—they are summoned by man himself. To rescue a fire while wrapped in hemp is only to draw the flames upon oneself. How Tang the Ox, seized by the old woman, eventually escaped his predicament—that will be told in the next chapter.