Antonio Garrido - The Corpse Reader

In the terraced gardens, Cí noticed how the sexes remained separate: the men gathered around the drink tables on the principal balcony, and the women were beside the lake, preparing the ceremonial tea. The reflection of the moon in the water was broken by the passage of elegant imperial swans. Lanterns lit the undersides of Japanese pine canopies. Cí thought that when the time came to face his enemy, the darkness might be his ally. His hands trembled as if he were heading into battle. When Cí asked about the presumed assassin, Kan whispered that he must be patient.

After briefly chatting with some strangers, Kan signaled that Cí should follow him.

Despite his considerable size, Kan skipped up stairs leading to the lake as stealthily as a cat. Cí followed, trying not to bump into groups of people socializing at the tables. They went over to the edge of the water. There, a cage filled with hundreds of fireflies lit a group of old men and courtesans who were seated and drinking tea.

“Don’t mind if we join you, do you?” said Kan, kneeling in a gap without waiting for an answer.

The smile of one of the older women was their welcome.

“This is your home, after all,” she murmured. “And who’s this you have with you?”

She and Kan clearly knew each other. Cí was awed by the woman’s serene beauty.

“This is Cí, my new assistant.”

The councilor sat next to the woman and made space for Cí.

There were four men and six women, all having a good time and laughing. The men were quite elderly, but their good manners and expensive clothes seemed to compensate in the courtesans’ eyes. Except for the woman who had welcomed them, who was perhaps forty, they all seemed very young, and none exhibited the more mature perfection of the first woman.

While the beautiful hostess served tea, Cí carefully observed the men, since he was expecting Kan to point out the murder suspect from among them. The man across from him was sinewy and looked lecherously at the youngest courtesan. Cí thought the man would swallow her down in one gulp if he could, not stopping to savor her—just as he was doing with the gourd of liquor he was slurping. The other three men didn’t seem at all dangerous. Just a few drunken old men slobbering over girls young enough to be their granddaughters.

Cí sipped his tea and focused on the first man, who noticed him staring.

“What are you looking at?” he spat. “You like boys, do you?”

Cí stared at the floor. He knew he shouldn’t be drawing attention to himself.

“I—I thought I knew you,” he said, taking another sip of tea.

The men continued drinking, and the courtesans laughed as the men caressed them. Cí was uncomfortable. What was Kan waiting for? What did he have in mind? Cí glanced at the man he thought most likely to be the suspect, who just at that moment began getting rough with the courtesan next to him. Then he slapped her.

Cí got up to intervene, and the man turned on him.

Cí was alarmed and thought the man was about to attack him, but Kan held up his hands, gesturing for everyone to calm down.

The lovely hostess intervened. “How dare you?” she said to the violent man. Her voice was firm and commanding.

“What?” The man was infuriated.

Cí felt himself tensing up, but Kan held him back. Then the hostess brought a small vial from her lap.

“That’s no way to woo a young girl,” she said quietly. She poured the liquid from the vial into a cup and handed it to the man.

“What’s this?” growled the man, sniffing it.

“A love stimulant. It’ll do you good.”

The man downed the drink and immediately spit it out.

“Gods! What filth is that?”

The hostess smiled a perfect smile.

“Cat piss.”

Everyone laughed except for the man, who stumbled away from the table. The other men, who seemed perhaps to work for him, followed grumblingly, and behind them went the courtesans. Now it was just Cí, Kan, and the hostess at the table.

Kan, chuckling and wiping his mouth, turned to Cí.

“Allow me to introduce our hostess, the one and only Blue Iris, descendant of General Fei Yue.”

The woman bowed her head. Cí was dumbstruck. He saw something truly terrifying in her eyes.

28

Finding out that Blue Iris was Fei Yue’s descendant was shocking. But there it was. Kan suspected that this delicate, perfectly mannered, glacier-eyed woman was responsible for the death of three men.

Cí managed a “nice to meet you,” but he was both transfixed and troubled by Blue Iris’s serenity and disquieting beauty. There was a coldness to her that brought to mind a viper, so calm before it strikes.

Blue Iris, oblivious to Cí’s sudden anxieties, asked what his job as Kan’s assistant involved.

Kan answered for Cí. “This is why I wanted you to meet,” he said. “Cí’s working on a report on the northern tribes, and I thought you might be able to help him. You’re still involved in your father’s business affairs, isn’t that right?”

“As much as I’m able. My life has changed considerably since I married, but of course, you already know about that…” She paused for a moment before addressing Cí. “So, you’re looking into the Jin? You’re in luck, then, aren’t you? You can speak to the ambassador personally.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Kan. “The ambassador’s a busy man. Almost as busy as me!”

“And is he busy with women’s affairs, too?”

“Iris, Iris, always so ironic.” Kan grimaced. “Cí doesn’t want the words of a man versed in pure deception. He’s after the truth.”

“Can’t he speak for himself?” asked Blue Iris provocatively.

“I like to be respectful of my elders,” Cí said.

He saw she’d noticed the slight and allowed himself a wicked smile. Then he looked at Kan for some idea of where this was all heading. He was starting to sense that Kan and Blue Iris’s connection might not be a straightforward one.

Suddenly Cí saw a silhouette outlined against the lantern light. Cí thought it was the bronze maker from dinner. When Kan saw him, he got up.

“Please excuse me,” said the councilor as he headed after the bronze maker. “I have something to attend to.”

Cí chewed his lip. He was unsure of what to say. He drummed his fingers against the side of the teacup before bringing it to his mouth.

“Nervous?” asked Blue Iris.

“Should I be?”

Just then, he had the thought the tea might have been spiked and decided against drinking more. When he looked up, he noticed Blue Iris seemed to be staring at him oddly, but he didn’t know why.

“So,” she said. “Respect for your elders? How old are you?”

“Twenty-four,” he said, adding two years to his actual age.

“And how old would you say I am?”

Feeling protected by the darkness, Cí looked directly at Blue Iris. The orange light from the lantern softened her sculpted face and smoothed her few wrinkles. Her breasts were full under her silk hanfu robe, and her waist, which, since she was seated, was as far down as Cí could see, was quite small. She didn’t seem uncomfortable as he looked at her body. Her strangely gray eyes sparkled.

“Thirty-five,” he said, though if he were being honest he would have said a few years older.

She arched an eyebrow.

“To work with Kan you need to be either fearless or stupid. Which would you say you are?”