The Devil Wives of Li Fong by E. Hoffmann Price

Author:E. Hoffmann Price [Price, E. Hoffmann]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 0000000000000
Published: 2021-11-05T21:30:17+00:00

CHAPTER XXII

As the fourth day of the Fifth Moon approached and the city got ready for the Dragon Boat Festival, Li Fong’s thoughts centered more and more on his evil hour with Abbot Shen Hui. He found reassurance by saying to himself, “No matter what happens to me, it will be of no account whatever.”

But this crumbled under the impact of the countering thought, “She has so much good karma, it would be terrible if she lost it.”

Memories of those first nights in Hangchow came to life. Those shadow patterns under the skin might have been illusion. Chang Lu’s attempt to scare him into dividing the treasure and absconding—simply the wild words of a desperate burglar. The silver serpent’s intervention had been too impressive to require any explanation.

“No wonder Chang has snakes on the brain… very well, Li Fong, how about yourself…not until Shen Hui put them there…”

Time and again he resolved to smash the jug of Golden Wine, yet always wavered. He was aware that a compulsion which had become part of him was staying his hand. This knowledge did not help!

The thing was closing in on Li Fong. His every effort to resist made him ever more the captive of the Abbot. He sensed that in the end, Mei Ling would become aware of his mental disturbance. Before growing unease became obvious to her, he had to obliterate it. There was only one way: drink the wine with his wife and prove the Abbot to be a superstitious old fool, a sun-dizzied zealot. This final clear-seeing, this solidified resolution, strengthened him.

Carnival spirit took charge of Soochow. Boats were readied for the traditional races. Crews practiced. Everyone, from coolie to wealthy merchant, watched the tryouts, estimated the odds, and prepared to bet to the limit. Refreshment stands were set up along the river. Vendors flocked to the city with their portable stoves, their pots, their skewers, their grills.

Storytellers, jugglers, and musicians gathered in readiness. Astrologers, feng shui men, and Taoist magicians plied their trades—and the whores and sing-song girls were waiting.

For as little as five cash, a soothsayer would give infallible information as to the winner of the race.

“The Dragon Boat Festival cures all ailments,” said Li Fong, glancing toward the courtyard. “They won’t remember to be sick till after the races.”

Ah Sam and Ah Lo had been waiting for this pause. The former looked up from the mortar and said, “Old Master, we beg permission to leave tomorrow in the forenoon, for a few hours.”

Mei Ling called from the court, “We might as well give them the day off.

Right now, they can’t tell the difference between ginseng and bean curd.

And Meilan asked me, last night, about taking three or four hours off tomorrow, from forenoon till after the races.”

“Everyone will take the day off,” he declared, precisely as they had anticipated. “Tai-tai, let’s close shop. You and I will watch the spectacle.

You’ve been looking tired.”

“Old Master also looks tired.”

“Yes. Weary of mixing tonics to give the rowers more endurance.

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