Chapter Eleven: Naming an Exorbitant Price

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Three people entered from outside. At the head of them was Fourth Uncle Li Daguang, still dressed in that exquisitely made snow-white robe. Tall and broad-shouldered, with a long white beard and white hair, he looked the very image of an immortal sage.

It had to be admitted that appearance mattered. Though Li Daguang had sat the prefectural examinations for ten years and failed every single time, and though he had never once worked the fields, he was nevertheless the most comfortably situated man in Liwen Village.

Despite his grave dereliction of duty the previous night, which had resulted in the ancestral hall being burned down, the clan patriarch had still asked him to lead the way when he came to Liwen Village that morning. It was proof of the trust placed in him.

Behind him came Li WenyYou, patriarch of the Li clan. He had barely slept the night before, and his eyes were bloodshot from exhaustion, yet his spirits were remarkably good. Perhaps because he was somewhat heavyset, the walk from the village entrance had left him slightly out of breath.

Last to enter was Auntie Hu. Daqi had entrusted Qing'er to her family, and with her son Hu Sheng away in the county, she would not have felt at ease even with Qing'er's cousin-uncle and the clan patriarch present.

“Qing'er, the patriarch has come to see you. Hurry over and kowtow to him in greeting!”

Afraid that Li Yanqing would once again refuse to kneel, as he had done in the ancestral hall, Li Daguang hurriedly reminded him, even winking at him several times.

Heaven, earth, sovereign, parents, and teacher—apart from these five venerable figures, Li Yanqing would bow to no one. He stepped forward and assumed the posture of one about to kneel, then suddenly pulled a face and found himself unable to go through with it.

“Fourth Uncle, I hurt my knee in the fire last night. It’s terribly painful right now!”

Li WenyYou chuckled. “There’s no need for such ceremony, Qing'er. Daguang, go bring us two stools.”

Li Daguang rolled his eyes. The little rascal had slipped out of it again. With no alternative, he found two small stools made from scraps of wood nailed together. After wiping them with his sleeve, he said, “Patriarch, please sit.”

Instead, Li WenyYou gave one of the stools to Li Yanqing. “Qing'er, your leg hurts. You sit first.”

Li Yanqing accepted the stool without the slightest hesitation and sat down. Li WenyYou took the other. Auntie Hu, meanwhile, held a bamboo broom and swept the courtyard some distance away, occasionally casting a glance in their direction from the corner of her eye.

There were only two small stools in the house, so Li Daguang had no choice but to remain standing. Seeing that the visitors meant no harm, Auntie Hu quietly closed the door and went outside. She had no interest in listening to the Li family’s affairs.

“Qing'er, we owe you a great deal for last night. To tell you the truth, I could not sleep at all. I was frightened, but also deeply grateful. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that our ancestor would truly manifest himself.”

Li WenyYou spoke with complete sincerity. Before setting out, he had questioned Li Daguang closely about Li Yanqing’s circumstances. He had learned that the boy had once been an idiot, but after falling into a well more than a month earlier, he had become an entirely different person—nothing short of a child prodigy when it came to reading and writing.

Li Daguang had especially recounted Li Yanqing’s behavior in the ancestral hall two days before, including the fact that he had somehow guessed the personal name of the First Ancestor. This had suddenly made Li WenyYou realize that there must be a reason the First Ancestor had chosen Li Yanqing. It was entirely possible that the ancestor’s spirit had taken up residence in the boy’s body. Otherwise, how could one explain an idiot suddenly becoming a prodigy?

Li WenyYou had turned the matter over in his mind repeatedly all along the journey. The more he thought about it, the more plausible it seemed. A fire had been kindled in his heart, leaving him anxious and feverishly eager to prove his conjecture.

Li Yanqing, for his part, was thinking about how to gain the greatest possible advantage from the situation. He had already drafted a list of demands and was merely waiting for the patriarch to offer his thanks.

Lowering his head, he said, “Patriarch, I truly had no idea what was happening at the time. Even now I’m still confused. It felt as though, for that moment, I wasn’t myself.”

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Li WenyYou ventured another question. “Qing'er, had you ever heard that voice before? For instance… when you fell into the well?”

Li Yanqing suddenly understood. The patriarch had mistaken him for a vessel possessed by Li Jing. At once, he realized that his opportunity had arrived. He let out an astonished cry, widened his eyes, and asked, “How did you know?”

Li WenyYou was startled. “You really heard it before?”

Li Yanqing nodded. “I did hear that voice when I fell into the well. I always thought there was a ghost down there, so I never dared tell Father.”

“What did the voice say?”

Li Yanqing lowered his head and fell silent, appearing deep in thought. Inwardly, he recalled the chronological notes he had compiled. Li Yu had ascended the throne in the second year after the founding of the Song dynasty, which meant that Li Jing had died in 961. The present year was 1111, so Li Jing had been dead for exactly one hundred and fifty years.

Li Yanqing tilted his head toward the sky, a dreamy expression coming over his face, and slowly said, “When I fell into the well, the voice whispered in my ear that his soul had wandered for a full one hundred and fifty years before finally finding me, the child destined to shelter his spirit.”

Li WenyYou immediately drew a genealogy register from inside his robe and began leafing through it. The record contained the dates of the First Ancestor’s birth and death in extremely cryptic language, intelligible only to the clan patriarch.

As he flipped through the pages, Li WenyYou traced figures on the ground with his finger, calculating under his breath. At last, his complexion changed dramatically. According to his reckoning, the First Ancestor had died exactly one hundred and fifty years ago.

His legs went weak. With a thud, he fell to his knees before Li Yanqing. Even if the boy was not the First Ancestor reborn, a portion of the ancestor’s spirit had surely taken refuge within him.

When the patriarch knelt, Li Daguang was so frightened that he fell to his knees as well.

Good heavens! Had the child truly become host to the First Ancestor’s spirit? The ancestor had died one hundred and fifty years ago—and now he had returned.

Li Yanqing pretended to be flustered. “Patriarch, Fourth Uncle, what… what are you doing?”

He was also somewhat worried. What if the patriarch truly came to regard him as an ancestor?

“Your unworthy descendant, Li WenyYou, kowtows to the First Ancestor in reverence!”

“Your unworthy descendant, Li Daguang, kowtows to the First Ancestor!”

Even a thousand years later, in some remote village, many foolish men and women would have believed such a farce without question. In the Song dynasty, where superstition ran even deeper, Li WenyYou had already formed his conclusion in advance; Li Yanqing had merely confirmed it. His brother, Li Wengui, however, might not have been so easily convinced.

Li Yanqing simply sat down, inwardly offering a bitter laugh. He had tossed out a few casual lies, and they had actually believed him. Would he have to imitate a witch from now on—suddenly fainting, then leaping about and babbling nonsense like a ritual shaman? Alas, how was this affair ever going to end?

Li WenyYou respectfully kowtowed three times, but did not dare sit again. Instead, he stood before Li Yanqing with his hands hanging at his sides. He had spent the entire previous night thinking about the matter. Why had the First Ancestor chosen a six-year-old child to rush into the flames? At least two hundred clansmen had been fighting the fire, including countless able-bodied men, yet the First Ancestor had chosen a child.

Now he finally understood. The First Ancestor must have crossed paths with Li Yanqing long ago. Water and fire had brought them together!

“Sit down, Patriarch. I have something to say.”

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Li WenyYou sat down trembling, perched on barely half the stool. Li Yanqing studied him solemnly.

“Patriarch, you would do well not to mention the First Ancestor again. This is now the Great Song Empire, and the emperor’s surname is Zhao, not Li. If word of such a thing spreads, the entire clan could be exterminated.”

Li WenyYou froze. He slapped his forehead, suddenly realizing that he had completely overlooked the gravity of the matter. No—when he returned, he would immediately forbid anyone from speaking of the First Ancestor’s manifestation the night before.

He glanced back at Li Daguang. Li Daguang instantly shook his head like a rattle.

“Rest assured, Patriarch. I will never spread a word of this.”

With a single sentence, Li Yanqing completely extinguished Li WenyYou’s intention of going to the county to proclaim the matter. He added coolly, “Patriarch, you should still call me Qing'er. From now on, neither of us will mention this again.”

Li WenyYou gradually calmed down and nodded. “Qing'er, is there anything you need me to do?”

Li Yanqing had been putting on this supernatural performance precisely to await those words. Without the slightest hesitation, he raised four fingers.

“First, Liu Chenghong destroyed the Li family ancestral hall, disgraced our revered ancestor, and brought harm upon the descendants of the Li clan. He must be expelled at once and never employed again.”

Li WenyYou was struck by the fact that the boy’s tone was utterly unlike that of a six-year-old. He had even mentioned the revered ancestor. His conviction deepened, and he hurriedly replied, “I have already driven him out. He will never be employed again.”

“Second, all debts owed by my father, Li Daqi, to the patriarch are to be forgiven. And the wages withheld from him over these past few years must be paid in full.”

Four years earlier, when Li Daqi had borrowed money to bury his wife, his father-in-law, Ding Zhong, and Li WenyYou had joined forces to fleece him mercilessly. They claimed that five hundred strings of cash had been spent, though little more than a hundred would actually have been necessary. Most of that five hundred strings had flowed back into the hands of the two men through the cemetery, coffin, labor fees, and various other charges. In truth, the actual expenditure amounted to little more than a few pigs slaughtered and eaten by the villagers, along with some clothing and burial objects.

In addition to earning a reputation for helping a fellow clansman, Li WenyYou had acquired something akin to a slave: a cheap long-term laborer. Everything had been recorded in black and white, and Li Daqi had willingly signed and sealed the agreement.

But who could have imagined that Li Daqi would have a son like this?

Li WenyYou felt a growing unease and hurriedly said, “Of course. I will forgive it all. As soon as I return, I’ll bring over the debt contracts and the wages owed.”

Li Yanqing continued, “Third, I want to attend school. Please arrange it, Patriarch.”

Li WenyYou had feared that Li Yanqing would demand an accounting of the five hundred strings. When he learned that the boy merely wished to study, he let out a sigh of relief and smiled.

“That is a simple matter. I’ll speak to Master Yao when I return. Qing'er can begin school tomorrow.”

Li Yanqing had originally intended to ask for only those three things. But such an opportunity was rare indeed. If he did not take the chance to bleed this cold-hearted patriarch a little more, he would be doing a disservice to all the suffering his father had endured over the years.

He pointed toward the house.

“And the house is far too dilapidated. I would be grateful if you could find someone to repair it.”

…

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