The Skilled Hand of Zhuyou

Zhang Laifu had known the bandits would come, but he had never expected Lao Zheng to arrive this fast. His immediate instinct was to flee for his life, but he calmed himself down just as quickly. After spending three full days in the company of Lao Song, Lao Zheng, and Lao Yu, Zhang Laifu knew one thing for certain: against bandits like them, a direct dash to escape was impossible. Yet if he didn't run, wouldn't he just be waiting for death? First, he had to figure out where Zheng Pipa was. Zhang Laifu looked all around, tracing the sound of the pingtan singing. Instead of locating Lao Zheng, he felt his feet slip from his control, dragging him slowly toward the side of the street. *My train of thought was wrong.* *I can't focus my attention on the pingtan, or I'll end up dancing entirely to Lao Zheng's tune.* *He's hiding in the shadows. Instead of striking me directly, he's trying to lure me to the roadside. Why?* *Because he's a bandit—he can't afford to be seen in the light!* *He's a cautious man, unlike Lao Song and Lao Yu in temperament.* *In broad daylight on a bustling, crowded street, he won't act rashly.* *The more people there are, the less he dares make a move.* With a plan in mind, Zhang Laifu abruptly shouted to a nearby vendor, "What do you sell?" Startled, the vendor replied, "I sell tangyuan!" "Tangyuan have filling too, so why don't you sell buns?" The tangyuan seller pondered for a good while, then tapped his wire skimmer. "Why the hell should I sell buns? Are you out of your mind?" As the two of them raised their voices, passersby turned to look, and amid the clamor of the crowd, the pingtan music was drowned out considerably. Fighting with all his might to control his steps, Zhang Laifu reached the next stall. "Do you sell buns here?" "I sell cold jelly noodles." "They're both made of flour, so why don't you sell buns?" The liangfen vendor rolled up his sleeves, glaring daggers at Zhang Laifu. Zhang Laifu moved on to yet another stall. "Do you sell buns here?" "I sell pig's head meat!" "Can't pig's head meat be put into buns?" "It's not that it can't, but that depends on how much you want..." "Then why don't you sell buns? Don't you know how to do business?" "What the hell are you playing at?" The vendor picked up his meat cleaver. Drawing a blade at the drop of a hat—why did this pork seller have such an explosive temper? The entire street was now watching Zhang Laifu. A vendor selling zongzi asked, "Where did this fool come from?" The tofu seller was equally incensed. "Can't you tell who sells buns and who doesn't? What are you running around asking blind questions for?" The sugarcane vendor fumed, "I sell sugarcane, and he came asking me for buns too!" The lamb skewer vendor grew wary. "Keep your guard up, everyone. This punk doesn't look like good news." The pig's head meat seller gnashed his teeth. "Who does he think he is? If he dares touch my stall, I'll break his legs!" Lao Zheng knitted his brows and pulled farther back from Zhang Laifu. Zhang Laifu had judged correctly: in broad daylight, Lao Zheng didn't want to make a move. As the pingtan performance grew fainter, Zhang Laifu shook off seventy to eighty percent of the compulsion, though his strength was nearly spent. He came before a table and asked, "Do you sell buns here?" Behind the table sat a man who looked to be in his mid-twenties, lean in build and wearing a grayish-blue robe. The fabric and tailoring were plain, but the garment was kept impeccably clean. He was fairly handsome, with regular features and clear, bright eyes that held a steady sharpness within their calm, as if capable of seeing right through a person's thoughts. "Mister, I don't sell buns here." The man pointed toward the banner hanging behind him, which bore a line of characters: *Li Yunsheng, Skilled Hand of Zhuyou*. Zhang Laifu read it carefully and asked, "Your name is Li Yunsheng?" Li Yunsheng nodded, taking care to emphasize, "I am a physician." Judging by his dress, he seemed to be a local healer. Zhang Laifu held out his arm. "Take my pulse." Li Yunsheng pointed at the word *Zhuyou* on the banner. "I don't take pulses." "How can you be a physician if you don't take pulses?" Li Yunsheng was taken aback. "Mister, where are you from?" Zhang Laifu countered, "Tell me what kind of place this is first!" Li Yunsheng studied Zhang Laifu for a moment, beginning to discern something of the situation. "Mister, this is Wansheng Prefecture. A thousand faces for a thousand men, ten thousand beings in ten thousand changes—you have arrived at a wonderful place scarcely found in this world!" Zhang Laifu raised his voice, pressing on, "What makes Wansheng Prefecture so wonderful? What do you think is so great about it? Speak up and let's hear it!" Li Yunsheng looked at him and asked calmly, "Did you truly come just to pick a fight?" The surrounding vendors, diners, and passersby gathered around to enjoy the spectacle. "Is that guy crazy?" "Looks to me like he's seriously unhinged." Lao Zheng was also among the crowd, still waiting for an opening to strike. But an opportunity was hard to find; the eyes of everyone nearby were fixed squarely on Zhang Laifu. Zhang Laifu caught his breath, looked at Li Yunsheng, and continued, "You heard them just now, didn't you? They all say I'm sick. Well, I *am* sick! Aren't you a doctor? Cure me then!" Li Yunsheng appraised Zhang Laifu from head to toe. "What ails you? Tell me first." Zhang Laifu pointed to his chest. "My chest is tight and I'm short of breath. Can't you even see that?" Li Yunsheng shook his head slightly. "That isn't an illness. You're exhausted. Rest a while, and you'll be fine." Zhang Laifu refused to let it go. "You didn't take my pulse or examine me, and you're already claiming I'm not sick? Aren't you just a fraud?" A physician of the Zhuyou branch belonged to one of the traditional three hundred and sixty trades. They were an unusual sort of healer. In treating illness, they used neither needles nor stone lancets, neither herbal decoctions nor surgery, nor any Western medicines; they relied on incantations and paper talismans. They were accustomed to setting up shop on the street. When patients came, they took no pulse and prescribed no medicine. After inquiring about the complaint, they drew talismans and chanted incantations on the spot to dispel evils and cure the affliction. Zhang Laifu knew nothing of the trade and continued to make an unreasonable scene, which began to irritate even Li Yunsheng. "Friend, we're complete strangers. Why have you come to tear down my signboard?" "I haven't torn down your signboard! I came to see a doctor!" Zhang Laifu spoke with righteous indignation; he truly hadn't touched Li Yunsheng's banner. Someone in the crowd jeered, "Go find someone else to treat you! Everyone in the Zhuyou trade is a swindler!" Li Yunsheng looked up at the speaker. "Mister, if you've been cheated by others, that has nothing to do with me. I possess genuine craft and real skill." "Cut the nonsense!" another voice shouted. "What kind of skill could the Zhuyou trade possibly have?" "Hanging up a ragged strip of cloth to con people on the street, and now he won't even let people speak? Tear his banner down!" As more and more onlookers gathered, Zheng Pipa found himself squeezed into the crowd, his situation growing increasingly awkward. He dared not sing pingtan, dared not make a sound, and dared not even raise his head. Sensing the moment was right, Zhang Laifu rose to leave, but Li Yunsheng reached out and grabbed him firmly. "Friend, you made trouble at my stall. We need to settle this before you go. "You all claim I'm a fraud. Whom did I cheat? How did I cheat them? If you can lay out the full story and produce hard evidence, I'll close up shop, leave Heishakou for good, and pack my stall and get lost right before your eyes. "But if you can't give a clear accounting, you will stand right here and offer me a proper apology!" Zhang Laifu found that reasonable enough. "You claim you aren't a fraud? Then heal someone right in front of us! If you cure them, I'll apologize to you before the whole crowd!" Li Yunsheng glanced around. He dearly wanted to demonstrate his skill, but there was nowhere to apply it. "There are no patients at the moment. We'll have to wait until one comes along." "When will a patient come?" Zhang Laifu pressed. "Do you have an exact time?" Li Yunsheng had no answer for that. "I can't say for sure when a patient will arrive. I haven't had my first customer today. Everyone, please wait a while." Zhang Laifu was more than happy to wait; he wanted to see just how long Lao Zheng could afford to hold out against him. "If you don't open business all day, I'll wait all day. If you don't open business all year, I'll wait right here for a whole year!" Li Yunsheng, Zhang Laifu, and Lao Zheng—two in the open, one in the shadows—fell into a tense stalemate. Just then, a man stepped out from the crowd. Looking to be in his early forties, he wore a small melon-skin skullcap and had a medicinal plaster stuck over his left brow bone. Carrying a birdcage, he swayed his way right between Zhang Laifu and Li Yunsheng. Zhang Laifu was startled. Wasn't this the man with the plaster? The plaster-wearing man looked at Zhang Laifu first. "Little brother, I sent you to buy buns. What kind of ruckus are you stirring up over here?" Zhang Laifu was at a loss for an explanation. Li Yunsheng looked toward the newcomer. "Did you come with him? Did you both come to tear down my signboard?" The man with the plaster chuckled. "Reason speaks to reason, and facts speak to facts. We're all grown men here; squabbling in the middle of the street lacks dignity." Fanning himself, Li Yunsheng looked at him and asked, "And who might you be?" The man pulled a folding fan from the back of his collar as well, gave it a few flaps, and replied, "My name is He Yunxi, sixth among my brothers, so the neighbors all call me Sixth Master He. Today, I'll mediate between you two. Surely both of you can give me that much face?"