Lu Da and the Butcher

From the original

Tears through the wall

Lu Da, Shi Jin and Li Zhong went upstairs at the Pan family’s wine shop and sat in a private room. After several cups, they were talking of spear fighting when they heard someone sobbing in the next room. Lu Da lost his temper and hurled the dishes and cups onto the floor. The waiter hurried up. The people crying, he explained, were a father and daughter who sang for the customers. They had been overcome by their own troubles.

Lu Da ordered him to fetch them. A young woman of eighteen or nineteen appeared, followed by an old man of fifty or sixty carrying a pair of clappers. She wiped her eyes and bowed. Lu Da asked where they came from and why they were crying.

“We came from the Eastern Capital,” she said. “My parents brought me to Weizhou to seek our relatives, but they had moved to the Southern Capital. My mother fell ill at the inn and died. My father and I were left here with nothing. A rich man called Zheng, the ‘Lord of the West,’ saw me and forced a marriage arrangement upon us, taking me as his concubine. The contract named three thousand strings of cash. The money was imaginary; the contract was real. We never received a single coin.”

“Within three months his principal wife beat me and drove me out. Now he makes the innkeeper collect those three thousand strings from us. My father cannot stand against a man with money and influence. Where can we find money to repay what we never received? My father taught me a few songs when I was little, so we sing here. Most of what we earn goes to Zheng; we keep only enough to live. These last two days there have been few customers. We have missed his deadline and dread what he will do. We had nobody to tell. That is why we cried.”

The old man gave his surname as Jin and his daughter’s name as Cuilian. Zheng was the butcher at Zhuangyuan Bridge. Father and daughter were lodging at the Lu family inn inside the east gate.

“So this great gentleman is only Zheng the pig butcher!” said Lu Da. “He trades under our commander’s protection, and this is how he treats people!” He got up to kill him then and there, but Shi Jin and Li Zhong held him back. Again and again they urged him to wait until morning, until at last he agreed.

Lu Da laid five taels of silver on the table. Shi Jin added ten. Li Zhong produced two, but Lu Da scorned the small offering and returned it. He gave the fifteen taels to Old Jin. “Take this for the road and pack your things. I will come early tomorrow and see you off. Let us see which innkeeper dares stop you.” Father and daughter thanked him and left. Lu Da went back to his lodgings so angry that he took no supper.

From the original

A bench at the door

Old Jin found a cart some distance outside the city. He packed their belongings and settled the inn’s charges for lodging, fuel and food. Before dawn, father and daughter rose, cooked a meal and made ready. When the sky was only beginning to lighten, Lu Da strode through the door.

Old Jin invited him to sit. “Sit for what?” Lu Da said. “If you are leaving, leave. What are you waiting for?” Old Jin shouldered their baggage, thanked him and led his daughter out. The inn’s servant stepped across their path.

“Does he owe you for his room?” Lu Da demanded. The servant admitted that everything had been paid. But Zheng had ordered him to hold them until the money for Cuilian was repaid. “I will answer for Zheng’s money,” said Lu Da. “Let the old man go home.” The servant still refused.

Lu Da struck him across the face, then punched out two of his front teeth. The servant scrambled away to hide, and the innkeeper did not dare intervene. Old Jin and Cuilian hurried out of the city to the cart. Lu Da thought the servant might follow and stop them. He brought out a bench and sat in the inn for two double-hours. Only when he judged that the pair were well away did he rise and head for Zhuangyuan Bridge.

From the original

Lean meat, fat, and cartilage

Zheng sat in his shop watching his men sell meat. When Lu Da called his name, he hurried out, bowed and had a bench brought for him. Lu Da sat down. “The commander requires ten catties of lean pork, finely minced, without the least bit of fat.” Zheng told his men to select the meat. “You cut it yourself,” said Lu Da.

Zheng went to the chopping block. While he worked, the servant from the inn arrived with his head wrapped in a cloth. Seeing Lu Da beside the shop door, he dared come no closer and watched from under a distant eave. Zheng spent half a double-hour chopping the meat and wrapped it in lotus leaves. He offered to send it to the commander’s residence.

“Wait,” said Lu Da. “Now ten catties of fat. Not a speck of lean in it. Mince that too.” Zheng ventured that the lean meat might be for wontons, but what could the fat be for? Lu Da stared at him. These were the commander’s orders. Who dared question them? Zheng selected the fat and chopped it finely. The morning wore away. Even the customers were afraid to approach.

At last Zheng offered to have both parcels carried away. Lu Da ordered another ten catties: cartilage this time, chopped fine, with no meat on it. “You have come here especially to make a fool of me,” Zheng said with a laugh.

Lu Da sprang up with the two parcels in his hands. “That is exactly what I have come to do!” He flung them into Zheng’s face, and minced pork fell like rain. Zheng snatched a boning knife from the block and leaped down into the street. Lu Da was already waiting there. The neighbours, the shopmen and the passers-by stood still. Nobody dared come between them.

From the original

Three blows

With the knife in his right hand, Zheng reached out with his left to seize Lu Da. Lu Da caught that hand, stepped in and kicked him in the belly. Zheng fell into the street. Lu Da planted a foot on his chest and raised a fist as large as a vinegar bowl.

“I served the old commander and held office in the five western circuits. I might deserve the name ‘Lord of the West.’ You are a butcher with a knife, and you take that name! How dare you force and cheat Jin Cuilian?” His first punch landed on Zheng’s nose. Blood poured out and the nose twisted sideways. It was as though a sauce shop had burst open: salt, sourness and spice came tumbling out together.

Zheng could not rise. The knife had fallen aside, but he still shouted that it was a fine blow. “You dare answer back?” Lu Da struck him at the brow and eye. It was as though a shop of coloured silks had opened: red, black and crimson spilled out. The onlookers were too afraid to step forward.

Now Zheng begged for mercy. “If you had held out against me, I might have spared you,” Lu Da said. “Since you beg, I will not.” A third punch struck the temple. Bells, cymbals and gongs seemed to sound together, like the instruments at a great religious service. Zheng lay stretched on the ground, breathing out but no longer breathing in.

“Pretending to be dead!” Lu Da said aloud. “I can hit you again.” But the colour of Zheng’s face was changing. Lu Da thought: I only meant to give him a beating. I never expected three punches to kill him. Now there will be a criminal case, and nobody to bring me food in prison. I had better leave while I can.

He strode away, still pointing back and accusing Zheng of pretending. Nobody stopped him. At his lodgings he bundled up clothes, silver and portable valuables, leaving the old clothes and heavy things behind. Taking a staff that reached his eyebrows, he hurried out through the south gate.

From the original

A thousand strings of cash

Zheng’s household could not revive him. His family and neighbours took their complaint to the prefect, who first sought permission from Lu Da’s commander. The commander could not shield a man who had killed someone. He authorised an arrest and an inquiry, requiring that his father, under whom Lu Da had formerly served, be informed before sentence was carried out.

The officers found only bedding and old clothes at Lu Da’s lodgings. They searched the city without finding him. Notices went out along the roads, giving his age, place of origin and appearance. There was a reward of one thousand strings of cash for his capture.

Lu Da fled from one district to another, uncertain where to go. Eventually he reached Yanmen County in Daizhou. At a crossroads he saw a crowd studying a notice. Unable to read, he pushed among them and listened. They were reading his own description. Anyone who sheltered or fed him would share his guilt; anyone who caught him or reported him would receive the reward.

Just then someone shouted behind him, “Brother Zhang! What are you doing here?” Arms closed around his waist, and he was pulled away from the crossroads.

From the original

The stranger who knew him

The man dragging him away was Old Jin. In a quiet place he rebuked Lu Da for standing beneath a notice that described him so plainly. Lu Da admitted that he had killed Zheng with three punches and had been wandering ever since. Why had Old Jin come here instead of returning to the Eastern Capital?

Old Jin explained that he had feared Zheng would follow them, with no Lu Da nearby to protect them. They had travelled north instead. An old neighbour had brought them here and arranged for Cuilian to become the concubine of a wealthy man, Zhao, who maintained her in a separate household. They had food and clothing enough. Cuilian often spoke of their rescuer, and Zhao, who enjoyed spear and staff fighting, had long wished to meet him.

Old Jin brought Lu Da home. Cuilian came out, richly dressed, and bowed repeatedly. Without his help, she said, they could never have reached this day. Lu Da tried to leave, but Old Jin took his bundle and staff and insisted he stay. Soon a meal of fish, chicken, goose and fruit was laid upstairs. Father and daughter took turns pouring his wine.

Old Jin bowed again. Lu Da protested at so much ceremony. The old man explained that since their arrival he and Cuilian had offered incense morning and evening before a red paper tablet in gratitude for him. How could they fail to honour him now that he was here in person?

Near evening, a commotion rose below. Lu Da looked out to see twenty or thirty men with wooden clubs and a mounted man shouting that the scoundrel must not escape. He seized a bench and hurled it down. Old Jin called for everyone to stop, ran downstairs and spoke to the rider. The man laughed and dismissed his followers.

It was Zhao. He had thought Old Jin had brought a young lover upstairs to drink with Cuilian. Learning who the guest was, he came in and bowed to Lu Da. They returned upstairs, where the cups and dishes were set out again. Zhao offered the honoured seat. Lu Da called himself a rough fellow guilty of a capital crime, but promised his help if Zhao would accept his friendship. They talked of Zheng, compared spear techniques and drank late into the night before retiring.