Chapter Fifteen: Tattered Clothes Cannot Compete with Treasured Delicacies

Xu You released his grip and stepped back a couple of paces. The man who had been flung out staggered to his feet, bracing himself against the corridor pillar. He coughed softly twice, a trace of blood seeping from the corner of his lips, and said, “I’ve offended you, sir. Pardon my rudeness.”

“It’s nothing,” Xu You replied, only then getting a good look at the man’s face. He was in his thirties, his features weathered and darkened by sun and wind. His drooping eyelids concealed his gaze, yet despite the humiliation and blows he had suffered, he remained composed.

The man turned away, addressing the mole-marked fellow at the door in an even tone, “I have never seen your venison, let alone stolen it.”

Perhaps it was this unyielding composure that provoked him, for the mole-marked man let out a furious laugh, rolled up his wide sleeves, clenched his fist, and was about to continue the assault. At that moment, others from the neighboring quarters came out to watch the commotion. Someone, unable to bear the injustice, spoke up, “Since he denies it, there must be more to this matter. Why not reason it out first? If the truth cannot be made clear, it’s not too late to take it to the county magistrate. Why resort to violence?”

“Well said. Even if he is a thief, one must have solid proof before passing judgment. To condemn a man on your word alone is hardly convincing,” another added.

Their words had barely left their lips before someone pulled them aside, hushing them in a low voice, “You two must be from another district, aren’t you?”

“We are. How did you know?” they replied.

“It’s obvious. That’s Dou Qi, the notorious knight-errant of Qiantang. Unless you want trouble, you’d best keep clear of him. If anyone dares steal his venison… You’re outsiders, here for business or fortune. Don’t involve yourselves in muddy waters.”

The two exchanged glances. Though they felt indignant, they recognized the advice was well-meant. Traveling far from home, it was wiser to avoid unnecessary trouble. Silently, they slipped back into the crowd.

Dou Qi, seeing his reputation alone could silence outsiders, grew all the more smug. “Since you all know who I am, let me explain this matter, lest anyone think I’m bullying out-of-towners simply because I’m local,” he said.

He pointed accusingly. “That cur over there, with his rat-like face and shifty eyes, has had his eye on my locked chest under the bed for some time. This morning, I went out on business, and he was the only one left in the lodging. When I returned, the chest was wide open, and the venison was gone. I demand it back—am I wrong to do so?”

The crowd buzzed with discussion. Most found Dou Qi’s suspicion reasonable, not mere empty accusation. It seemed almost certain that the man had stolen the venison. Many glances turned his way, filled with contempt, disgust, ridicule, and a measure of schadenfreude, awaiting to see how the infamous Dou Qi would deal with him.

Xu You had studied the knight-errants of this era in detail. Broadly speaking, they fell into three categories. First were the wild, free-spirited youths: like in the Records of the Three Kingdoms, where young Cao Cao loved hawking and hunting, roamed about without restraint, and, together with Yuan Shao, became notorious for causing trouble. On one occasion, they even abducted a bride on her wedding night. Both being scions of eminent families, such wanton misconduct marked them as the archetypal dissolute sons—the delinquent youth of their time.

The second class comprised the lawless ruffians who preyed upon society. Take, for example, the Book of Jin’s account of Dai Ruosi, “Fond of roaming knights in youth, unrestrained in conduct, when Lu Ji traveled to the capital with lavish cargo, Dai and his followers plundered him.” If even Lu Ji could fall victim to their robberies, their audacity knew no bounds. Similarly, in the Book of Wei’s account of Bi Zhongjing, “Fond of archery and hunting in youth, he consorted with rash companions, often making a living by raiding borderlands.” These knight-errants began to form gangs, becoming a scourge to the people, much hated yet impossible to eradicate.

The third category had transcended delinquency and banditry: the grandmasters of the knightly world. The Book of Jin mentions the great hero Li Yang of the capital, a man so formidable that even Lady Guo, wife of the ferocious Wang Yan, feared him. In the time of Emperor Xiaoming of Wei, the knight Li Yuanzhong was so respected that when five hundred soldiers from Qinghe were returning from the frontier and ran into trouble, Li sent only one household servant as guide, and all the bandits along the way retreated in fear, allowing their safe return. Such power and prestige, whether in a village or across a region, brought them on par with the highest nobles.

Dou Qi seemed to belong to the second type—a petty tyrant, perhaps not bold enough to rob noble families, but more than capable of bullying his neighbors. To ordinary folk, such villains were often the greater menace.

Despite the glares that seemed to want to flay him alive, the man beside Xu You remained calm, his hands folded in his sleeves, his gaze downcast. “I’ve never cared for meat,” he said quietly. “I’ve never even seen this venison, and if I had stolen it, what would I want it for?”

“Bah! A penniless cur like you dreams of eating meat?” Dou Qi spat a thick glob on the ground. “It’s not that you don’t want it—you simply can’t afford it, so you set your sights on my venison!”

When it came to insults, the people of this era had far fewer terms than those of later times. The word “dog” and all its variations were particularly fashionable, appearing with remarkable frequency.

“How do you know he has not a coin to his name?” Xu You asked.

Dou Qi was taken aback, not immediately grasping the question. “Who’s speaking?” he snapped.

Xu You stepped forward. Dou Qi eyed him, scowling. “And who are you?”

“A fellow traveler, north and south, a wanderer like the rest.”

Hearing he was an outsider, Dou Qi’s wariness faded, replaced by disdain. “Step aside. This is none of your business.”

“An aimless, lawless knight, neither skilled nor principled, with neither trade nor foundation. If you can speak your piece here, surely I have a right to speak mine as well.”

Dou Qi’s nostrils flared, the black mole on his face seeming almost to leap from his flesh. He glared at Xu You and sneered, “If you have a death wish, best write your family a letter, lest you die in a strange place and leave your wife and children to mourn you!”

Xu You laughed. “Such bold words! Do you own the Zhibin Inn?”

Dou Qi’s face shifted, something flickering in his eyes, but he quickly recovered. “Hmph, the Zhibin Inn… What of it? You think you can stay indoors forever?”

“That’s for the future. Let’s speak of the present, shall we? Since you claim not to be a bully, and are willing to have the matter judged by all, allow me to ask: how did you know he was penniless?”

Dou Qi snorted, lifting his nose. “I just do.”

Xu You had been waiting for that very answer. He stepped forward, clasped his hands, and bowed to the crowd. “Everyone, look at this gentleman’s clothes. Though not fine brocade, they are of well-made silk. And he’s staying in this guesthouse—hardly the attire or lodging of a beggar.”

Seeing the crowd deep in thought, Xu You pressed on, not giving Dou Qi a chance to speak. “There is only one way to know if he is truly destitute: by rifling through his belongings when he’s not around. Is that not so, Lord Dou?”

Dou Qi, realizing he had been painted as the thief by a few words, was instantly enraged. His fists clenched with audible cracks, menace on his face. “You’re in this together, aren’t you?”

Xu You would not have risked himself without reason; he spoke up because he had seen Zuo Wen return, standing a few paces behind him. He also sensed there was something strange about this affair. If he simply stood by, this wrongly accused man might meet a tragic end.

To save a life is greater than building a seven-tiered pagoda—not out of hypocrisy, but because in this world, one must hold fast to a measure of human kindness.

Just as Dou Qi was about to strike, the silent man beside Xu You suddenly grasped his arm and retreated two steps. He raised his head, revealing the eyes hidden under his lids. What eyes they were! In the clear, ink-black pupils flickered a profound, unfathomable light, mingled with the desolation and eternity of desert sands—layer upon layer, swirling and mysterious, as if holding endless stories that drew one in, tempting exploration.

He smiled gratefully at Xu You, then, under the scrutiny of all, took off his robe and tossed it to the floor. Calmly, he said, “This is a new garment, made just the day before yesterday. It’s worth five hundred coins—more than enough to pay for your venison. Take it.”

Dou Qi didn’t even glance at the robe. His voice was cold. “Do you know where my venison came from? That was from a snow-white sacred deer encountered by the governor of Yangzhou, Du Jijiu, on Mount Tianyun. Its left flank was made into venison, said to resurrect the dead, restore flesh to bones, confer immortality. I went through untold trouble to obtain it. Your shabby robe—how could it possibly compensate?”