“Largely I require information, and perhaps a guide. Word has reached the capital of a sage, a veritable holy man, in your domain.”
Yen Ting-kuo bunked. “What?”
“Travelers’ tales, but we have questioned several such men at length, and the stories agree. He preaches the Tao, and his virtue appears to have brought him great longevity.” Ts’ai Li hesitated. “Actual immortality? What can you tell me, Sir Subprefect?”
“Oh.” Yen Ting-kuo scowled. “I understand. The person who names himself Tu Shan.”
“You are skeptical, then?”
“He does not fit my idea of a holy man, Sir Inspector,” Yen Ting-kuo growled. “We get no few who claim to be. Simple countryfolk are all too ready to listen, especially in unsettled times tike these. Masterless wanderers, who do no useful work but beg or wheedle their way along. They claim tremendous powers. Peasants swear they have seen such a one cure the sick, exorcise demons, raise the dead, or what have you. I’ve looked into some cases and found no real proof of anything. Except that often the drifter has availed himself of men’s purses and women’s bodies, convincing them that is the Way, before moving elsewhere.”
Ts’ai Li narrowed his eyes. “We know about charlatans,” he said. “We also know about ordinary wu, folk magicians, honest enough but illiterate and superstitious. Indeed, their beliefs and practices have seeped into the once pure teachings of Lao-tzu. This is unfortunate.”
“Does not the court follow, instead, the precepts of the great K’ung Fu-tze?”
“Certainly. Yet—wisdom and strength grow scarce, Sir Subprefect. We must seek them where they are to be found. What we have heard of this Tu Shan has led the One Man himself to think that his will be a desirable voice among the Imperial councillors.”
Yen Ting-kuo stared down into his cup as if to seek a comforting revelation therein. “It is not for the tikes of me to question the Son of Heaven,” he said at length. “And I daresay that fellow can do no serious harm.” He laughed. “Perhaps his advice will prove no worse than some.”
Ts’ai Li regarded him for a silent while before murmuring, “Do you imply, Sir Subprefect, that the Emperor has occasionally been misled in the past?”
Yen Ting-kuo paled a little, then flushed and almost snapped, “I speak no disrespectful word, Sir Mandarin.”
“Of course not. Understood,” said Ts’ai Li smoothly. “Although, between us, the implication is quite correct.”
Yen Ting-kuo gave him a startled stare.
Ts’ai Li’s tone grew earnest. “Please consider. It is now ten years since glorious Wang Mang received the Mandate of Heaven. He has decreed many reforms and sought in every way to better the lot of his people. Yet unrest waxes. So, be it said, do poverty at home and barbarian arrogance abroad.” He left unspoken: There are those, ever more of them, who declare that the Hsin is not a new dynasty at all but only a usurpation, a product of palace intrigue, and the time is overpast to restore the Han to that power which is rightfully theirs. “Clearly, better counsel is much needed. Intelligence and virtue often dwell beneath a lowly roof.”
“The situation must be desperate, if you were sent this far to track down a mere rumor,” Yen Ting-kuo blurted. He made haste to add, “Of course, we are honored and delighted by your exalted presence, my lord.”
“You are most gracious, Sir Subprefect.” Ts’ai Li’s voice sharpened. “But what can you tell me about Tu Shan?”
Yen Ting-kuo looked away, frowned, tugged his beard, and spoke slowly. “I cannot in honesty call him a rogue. I investigate everything questionable that I hear of, and have no report of him defrauding anyone, or doing any other evil. It is only … he is not my idea of a holy man.”
“The seekers of the Tao are apt to be, ah, somewhat eccentric.”
“I know. Still— But let me tell you. He appeared among us five years ago, having passed through communities to the north and east, sojourning a while in some. With him traveled a single disciple, a young man of the farmer class. Since then he has acquired two more, and declined others. For he has settled down in .a cave three or four hours’ walk from here, in the forest upland by a waterfall. There he meditates, or so he claims. I have gone there, and the cave has been turned into a rather comfortable little abode. Not luxurious, but no hardship to inhabit. The disciples have made themselves a hut nearby. They cultivate a bit of grain, catch a few fish, gather nuts and berries and roots. Folk bring other things as gifts, including money. They make the walk in order to hear whatever words he cares to give them, unburden themselves of their woes—he has a sympathetic ear—and receive his blessing, or simply spend a while in his silent presence. From time to time he comes down here for a day or two. Then it is the same, except that he drinks and eats well at our one inn and disports himself in our one joy house. I hear he is a mighty lover. Well, I have not heard of him seducing any man’s wife or daughter. Nevertheless, his conduct scarcely seems pious to me, nor do such preachments of his as I have heard make much sense.”