Luo Binwang was not a political poet, except for the rhapsody-like piece titled ‘Call to Arms’. Judge Dee, sitting upright in a bamboo chair in his bedroom, brooded pensively over how to take the first step in the investigation. Could Luo Binwang really have been a talented official? Judge Dee was not so sure about that.

  To say the least, Luo had not had a successful official career. His prospects had been marred on account of his having been once thrown into prison for a short period. His arrest was attributed to some less-than-wise remarks regarding the empress. And then, of course, he’d made the even more unwise decision to join the rebellion under General Xu, which had failed miserably. He had both chosen the wrong time and made a wrong calculation of the situation.

  At present, however, Luo presented no real threat to Empress Wu. Not anymore. Not after the disastrous defeat suffered by the rebellion’s army by the Wuding River. Even the ringleader, General Xu, had been killed in that final battle.

  Judge Dee saw no convincing justification for the urgency expressed by the empress – not for an investigation into the disappearance of an aged, feeble poet like Luo Binwang, who, as in the old Chinese saying, did not have the strength to kill a chicken.

  But Judge Dee was not in a position to say no to the empress. Nor to ask her why she placed so much importance on finding Luo now. He knew only too well about all the political hazards behind the case, and that investigating it was so difficult, possibly a devious trap for him too.

  So, all that Judge Dee could do was hunt out Luo in one way or another – or, failing that, find his unmistakable dead body.

  It was a tall order. In the official documents, Luo was listed as missing in the last battle, but his body had never been found – either on the battlefield in question or somewhere else entirely – in spite of the relentless searching all over the country that had already been carried out under the empress’s orders.

  Most people maintained that Luo Binwang was dead, his body trampled out of recognition on the battlefield close to the Wuding River. More likely than not, Judge Dee contemplated in silence, this further search he’d been ordered to make was just for show, performed out of political considerations, and he was not expected to actually find Luo – alive or dead. The empress had repeatedly demonstrated in public that she valued talent more than anything else in the world. Judge Dee did not know if these were her real feelings; it could have been staged for her image as a wise empress, working wholeheartedly for the welfare of the great Tang Empire. Either way, her decision to send Judge Dee himself in search of Luo Binwang had been made, paradoxical though it might seem, despite his vehement denouncement of her in the ‘Call to Arms’.

  What theories, what clues were there for Judge Dee to follow in his missing-person investigation?

  Luo’s parents were both dead, and he was their only son. He had a younger sister, who had fallen out with him, but other than that he only had a few distant relatives, who he’d long been out of touch with. No immediate information from them, needless to say. That wasn’t too surprising. Whatever their real relationship, the people related to him now had to put on a show of having long avoided him like the black plague after his imprisonment for slandering the empress, not to mention his more recent role in the armed uprising against her.

  No, after considering the facts, Judge Dee concluded that the most likely reason for Luo Binwang’s disappearance was that he’d been killed in the failed rebellion.

  But there was another possible scenario he could not afford to rule out. Luo could have run away in the chaos of the battlefield and was, even now, keeping himself hidden somewhere. An old Chinese saying put it well: a shrewd rabbit keeps three dens to hide itself in, if need be. Although this seemed improbable, Judge Dee thought he had no choice but to explore the case in that direction as well.

  All in all, Judge Dee reflected, it appeared to be an extremely difficult job. And to make matters even trickier, although he had long been aware of Luo in his status as a famous poet, Dee had not met him in person, nor made a serious study of any of his poems. There was, therefore, a lot of background information for him to gather and sort through in a great hurry.

  Judge Dee had promised the empress that he was going to leave to start his investigation the next day. So far, he had not even decided, however, where he would make his first stop out of the great capital of Chang’an.

  ‘This morning,’ Judge Dee said, turning to his loyal assistant Yang, who was standing, still rubbing his hands in anxiety, in Dee’s room, ‘you don’t have to stay with me. I am going to see Academician Jiong, and we’ll probably have quite a long talk. But there are a couple of things you can do for me. First, go and find a copy of Luo Binwang’s poetry collection. That may turn out to be helpful for the investigation.’

  ‘I’ll set out for the job immediately, if you insist, but you must be really careful, Master,’ Yang said, showing no rush to leave.

  It might not be an easy job for Yang, Judge Dee thought. He was no bookworm like his master, nor did he frequent any bookstores.

  ‘As far as I know, people buy and sell books, both new and second-hand, mostly in temple market fairs,’ Yang grumbled. ‘I have no idea, however, about when and where those market fairs are held. Only once, I remember, have I followed you into something like a bookstore in the center of the capital. But that bookstore seems to be located a bit too far away, so—’

  ‘Then you’ll have to hurry, Yang. Afterward, arrange for me to have a late lunch in a restaurant’s private room. In absolute privacy, mind you. And bring my lunch guest, a woman surnamed Ning, directly to the restaurant you have booked. She lives in a hut near the “outer palace”. Ning once served as a personal maid to the former Empress Wang. Make sure that no one will notice anything unusual or be suspicious about the arrangement, and under no circumstances should you reveal either your identity or mine.’

  ‘Got you, Master.’

  Once Yang’s heavy footsteps were fading away, Judge Dee glanced out the window and watched, as if in a trance, a large leaf falling, swirling down to the courtyard.

  He knew what was behind Yang’s grumpiness about the investigation. In her earlier days, Empress Wu had once served as a ‘palace female talent’ for Emperor Taizhong of the Tang Empire. It was conventional that after an emperor’s death, each and every one of his palace women would have to live in seclusion, spending the rest of their lives together in government-controlled isolation. They were seen as touched by the emperor, hence untouchable by other men. A number of the palace ladies, like Wu, were sent to live in nunneries.

  However, the new emperor – Li Zhi, the son of the late emperor – fell head over heels in love with Wu. One thing led to another, and despite being a ‘palace female talent’ for the late emperor, Wu became an imperial concubine for the young emperor too – a dramatic turn of events so scandalous that it was intolerable to the orthodox Confucianist officials.

  She was subsequently declared to be the empress, and after the death of Li Zhi, she eventually seated herself on the throne as supreme ruler of the whole nation. Of late, she had even gone so far as to try to rename the Tang Empire as the Zhou Empire, and to move China’s capital from the city of Chang’an to the city of Luoyang.

  This metamorphosis was naturally unacceptable to the people who had pledged allegiance to the Li family’s Tang Empire. And, as a result, the rebellion under General Xu had broken out, but without success.

  It was ironic that Judge Dee himself happened to be both a traditional Confucianist scholar and, at the same time, a senior, highly trusted official serving under Empress Wu. But it was much simpler for Yang. He just resented the fact that his aged master had been ordered around, for one investigation after another.

  It did not take Yang long to reach the center of the city. There, to his confusion, he failed to recognize the bookstore he had visited before in the company of Judge Dee. And to his further dismay, he did not find any bookstores selling poetry collections. In fact, most of the bookstores he came across carried only textbooks of Confucian classics, such as Analects, Book of Rites, Book of Songs and Book of Changes.

  After several unsuccessful attempts, he finally spotted something that seemed like a rare book section in a dust-covered corner of a medium-sized store outside of the city center, sporting several author-handwritten copies on display. The section was overshadowed, though, by an impressive array of silk scrolls of poems and paintings, hanging down vertically from the top of the white wall.

  According to the bookstore owner, who introduced himself as Fatty Bao, local poets and writers would occasionally put a few loose pages of their handwritten manuscripts on sale there, commonly made in the form of silk scrolls to be hung in the living room for decoration. Fatty Bao did not carry anything close to a complete or well-edited poetry collection.

  ‘A woodblock-printed edition can be very expensive. An individual poet’s collection often has only a very small print run. It is far from enough to cover the cost of woodblock printing. Ordinary poets could not afford that.’

  ‘Do you have any poems left by Luo Binwang?’ Yang asked directly. ‘Separate pieces, whether in his own calligraphy or not. Like in the form of a silk scroll?’

  ‘Luo Binwang? Oh, no. We might have had one or two silk scrolls of his poems once. But all of a sudden, his poems became very valuable, and despite the high prices, they sold out in no time.’

  In light of what Judge Dee had told him regarding the Luo case, Yang thought he had a good idea of the reasons behind the unexpected rise in the value of Luo Binwang’s poems. But thinking about this reminded him of another investigation Judge Dee had conducted in his company, concerning a poetess instead of a poet. In that case, her poems had turned out to be vital for the investigation, he recalled. He had to get hold of Luo’s poems for his master, by hook or by crook.

  Shifting his glance to a long silk scroll hung on the wall with quite a high price tag, Yang wondered whether Luo’s scrolls had all really sold out so quickly. Fatty Bao could still secretly own some of them, waiting so that he could sell them for an even higher price in the future.

  ‘You know who sent me here, Fatty Bao?’ Yang asked.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘None other than Judge Dee.’

  ‘Oh, His Honor still remembers me? Indeed, what a big and fatty face I must have today.’

  ‘The empress has just forced a politically sensitive case on him. He is to find the missing Luo Binwang for her. If I fail to learn anything from you, I may have no choice but to tell the secret police that you once had several scrolls of his poems in your store. And I think that they will move mountains and seas to dig out anything related that’s still in your shop. You can count on that, Fatty Bao.’

  ‘Hold on, Yang! You should have told me earlier about Judge Dee’s investigation.’

  Fatty Bao spun around to climb into the attic and soon came back down helter-skelter, carefully holding a handwritten silk scroll. It was a poem composed on the occasion of Luo’s parting with a friend, and appeared to have been handwritten by Luo Binwang himself. Toward the left bottom of the scroll, there was a line written in smaller characters: ‘Copied out for Yu.’

  Yang took the scroll from Fatty Bao’s hand. He was no judge of the monetary value of poetry, but the silk scroll was marked with an incredibly high price, which could have been added recently.

  ‘For Judge Dee, it’s absolutely free,’ Fatty Bao said with an obsequious smile, tearing off the price tag in haste. ‘I have always been an admirer of His Honor. What a high-ranking official at the court, full of political integrity and passion for justice!’

  It was a shrewd move on Fatty Bao’s part. Judge Dee was not just a judge but also a powerful high-ranking minister, and was highly trusted by the empress. Yang did not think Fatty Bao needed to go into detail about his decision.

  After walking out of the bookstore, Yang found the scroll of Luo’s poem tucked under his arm unexpectedly helpful to his further inquiries. It provided him with convincing proof that he was genuinely looking to buy Luo’s poems – or, failing that, a reasonable pretext for why he was making inquiries about the disgraced poet.

  Still, people avoided talking about Luo like the black plague. Those Yang approached were invariably like ravens trembling in the chilly winter, their tongues frozen.

  Yang remembered Judge Dee once talking to him about the horror of ‘literature prison’. People knew that anything related to Luo could get them into serious political trouble. The secret police would come knocking noisily on their doors, both day and night, like tireless woodpeckers in the dark woods.

  While Yang was searching for poems that morning, Judge Dee had himself carried in a vermilion-painted bamboo sedan chair to the residence of the renowned poet Jiong Yang. The first step in the investigation into Luo’s disappearance.

  Among the ‘four most excellent poets’ – Wang Bo, Luo Binwang, Jiong Yang, Lu Yinglun – of the early Tang dynasty, Jiong alone shared a number of similarities with Luo.

  For one thing, both of the two men’s aspirations were apparently not confined to poetry writing. On the contrary, they actually considered poets like themselves to be useless in the turbulent times. That’s how Jiong came to write the well-known couplet:

  O, I would rather be a petty officer fighting

  than a useless scholar writing.

  As for Luo Binwang, his choice to join the rebellious army as a soldier spoke volumes. Not to mention the group of poems he had written about army life on the borders as well as on the battlefields.

  Jiong hurried out the door of his residence to meet Judge Dee. He greeted him with a long bow and led the ‘distinguished visitor’ cordially into his spacious study.

  There was a large, shining mahogany table in the center of the room, which was lined with custom-made mahogany bookshelves full of books, as well as mahogany display cabinets carved with intricate patterns. Jiong himself prepared Judge Dee a cup of Red Robe Tea on the mahogany tea-stand.

  ‘I have to apologize for my unannounced visit today, Academician Jiong,’ Judge Dee said. ‘You are one of the most distinguished scholars in the Tang Imperial Academy, and a famous poet as well. I know only too well how busy you must be.’

  Jiong had come out with flying colors in the civil service examination at the capital level. He was then enlisted into the Imperial Academy. Academician was a position with a lot of honor, but not too much real power. From there, however, it was not unimaginable that an academician might soon be assigned to another position with power as well as honor.

  ‘We are both serving under Her Majesty, Your Honor,’ Jiong said, ‘and I surely know how much busier you must be at your higher position. Coincidentally, I’ve just heard about the new case Her Majesty has assigned you, so I have been anticipating your visit. It’s about Luo Binwang, right?’

  ‘Yes, Jiong, I’m investigating his disappearance, and I’m utterly clueless about the case. So anything you can tell me about Luo will prove to be of great help. You know him, do you not?’

  ‘Well, it’s true that Luo and I have talked from time to time, and exchanged our poems with each other. It’s possibly because of our similar poetic sensibilities, I suppose. To put it another way, it’s also because of our common aspiration to do something more than compose a couple of sentimental, useless lines.’

  ‘Yes, I like that uplifting poem of yours entitled “Army Song”. What a masterpiece indeed!’ Judge Dee stood up, and recited the poem in the study from memory, beside a clay sculpture of a solitary, upright soldier, shining on the dark wood bookshelf:

  The beacon fire already reaching the Western Capital,

  our hearts are full of indignation.

  Bidding farewell to the palace,

  the general leaves with the emperor’s order,

  and the soldiers fight bravely against the enemy

  surrounding and attacking our city.

  The heavy snow eclipsing the banners,

  the battle drums adding to the howling wind.

  O, I would rather be a petty officer fighting

  than a useless scholar writing.

  ‘You remember those lines so well, Your Honor,’ Jiong said. ‘I truly appreciate it.’

  ‘And I truly appreciate this masterpiece of yours. In fact, I often recite the last couplet to myself. It’s so inspiring, and thought-provoking too, in these turbulent times.’

  ‘Luo also wrote a number of poems in a similar style. He and I are both listed as “Border Poets” by some critics, for our common focus on the battles and army experiences on the borders. His are slightly different from mine, with a more somber, realistic tone. That seems quite understandable to me, though. Luo has suffered too many frustrations and setbacks in his career. It’s said he made some inappropriate remarks in the past, which more than angered the empress, and he was consequently thrown into jail for a short while.’

  ‘Yes, I’ve heard something about his bad luck, but I’m not too clear about the details. I did not know him personally, you understand.’

  ‘He’s an unorthodox poet,’ Jiong said delicately. ‘That could have accounted – at least partially – for his bad luck. From time to time, we talked and discussed poetry, but that does not mean we’re inclined toward the same political stance.’

  ‘I understand, Jiong.’

  ‘In fact, before the start of the uprising, he never revealed anything to me about General Xu or the forthcoming rebellion. Nor did he ever mention anything about his plan to participate in the disastrous attempt, let alone his composition in secret of that well-known poem “Call to Arms”. Not a single word about it. After all, I am far from being close to him.’

  Jiong had to highlight his distance from Luo. Judge Dee more than understood the necessity of it. The ‘literature prison’ under Empress Wu had stricken terror deep into the hearts of so many men of letters – including Judge Dee himself.