3

The　party　had　reached　the　top　of　the　hill　and　gotten　out　of　the　litters.　Although　she　had　been　carried　up,　Mrs.Fang　was　certain　she　could　not　walk　another　step.　She　seemed　more　exhausted　than　the　coolies　who　had　carried　her.　She　sat　on　the　steps　and　muttered　that　she　wanted　to　go　back　home.　This　hilly　city,　she　said,　scared　her　to　death.　How　could　she　go　up　and　down　all　those　steps　every　time　she　wanted　to　go　out.

Lotus　Charm　had　been　craning　her　neck　at　the　main　street　of　the　city.　Her　heart　was　wild　with　excitement.　There　were　tall　buildings,　automobiles,　and　neon　lights.　Who　would　have　thought　that　deep　in　the　heart　of　these　mountains,　there　would　be　things　as　modern　as　in　Shanghai　and　Hankow！

She　ran　over　to　her　father.　“Father,　there　must　be　some　good　hotels　here,"　she　said.　“Let's　find　a　nice　one."

But　Mrs.Fang　had　made　up　her　mind　she　would　not　walk　further.　There　was　a　hotel　close　by.　That　would　do.　She　instructed　the　porters　to　carry　in　their　luggage.　Lotus　Charm　pouted,　but　no　one　dared　to　object.

The　hotel　was　small,　dark,　filthy,　and　extremely　stuffy.　The　only　thing　attractive　about　it　was　the　red　paper　lantern　over　the　entrance　inscribed　with　a　verse:

Run　to　an　inn　before　it　starts　getting　dark,

Take　to　the　road　when　the　cock　crows　early.

The　men　occupied　one　room　and　the　woman　another.　Both　were　small　upstairs　rooms　about　the　size　of　ship's　cabins.　Useless　Fang　started　to　groan　“Ai_ya"　again.　He　said　he　felt　as　if　he　were　back　on　the　ship.

The　hotels　was　a　typical　Szechwan　building,　with　walls　of　bamboo　sticks　plastered　with　mud　so　thin　and　crumbling　that　a　man　could　make　a　hole　with　a　blow　of　his　fist.　The　roof　was　covered　with　loose　tile,　and　the　sky　was　visible　through　the　gaps　between　them.　The　bed　was　bamboo,　and　the　table　and　the　chair　were　bamboo　too.　Wherever　one　sat,　leaned,　or　lay,　the　bamboo　made　a　squeaking　crackling　sound.

This　building　was　home　to　an　assortment　of　rats　and　mice,　large　and　small.　There　were　mosquitoes　and　bed　bugs,　too.　The　bed　bugs　did　not　come　out　during　the　day,　but　the　walls　were　streaked　with　smears　of　blood　where　guests　had　squashed　them　at　night.

A　pensive　rat,　full　eight　inches　long,　began　to　nibble　at　Lotus　Charm's　shoes.　Lotus　Charm　jumped　onto　the　bamboo　bed　and　sat　there　with　her　knees　up　to　her　chin.　Her　small　round　face　turned　white.　She　stared　at　the　filthy　floor　in　horror.

Everyone　was　complaining,　except　Mrs.Fang.　She　disliked　rats　and　squeaking　bamboo　furniture　as　much　as　anyone,　but　it　had　been　her　idea　to　stay　in　this　hotel,　and　she　was　determined　not　to　complain.　“This　little　hotel　is　not　bad,"　she　commented　to　Phoenix　Girl.　“Anyway,　it's　better　than　having　to　sleep　on　the　deck　of　a　ship."　She　drew　a　bottle　out　of　her　reed　basket　and　took　a　large　swallow.

The　weather　was　oppressively　hot.　Through　the　flimsy　rooftop　and　thin　walls,　the　heat　came　in　ceaselessly.　The　little　room　was　a　frail　shell　that　seemed　to　hold　an　invisible　ball　of　fire.　The　table　and　chairs　were　so　hot　that　one　could　not　put　a　hand　on　them　without　discomfort.　There　was　no　breeze.　People　perspired　and　broke　out　in　prickly　heat.

Pao　Ching　was　so　warm　that　even　his　bald　pate　had　turned　red.　But　he　did　not　like　being　idle.　He　opened　up　his　suitcase　and　took　out　his　best　long　silk　gown,　some　clean　socks,　his　thick_soled　satin　slippers,　and　a　folding　sandalwood　fan.　No　matter　how　warm　the　weather,　he　had　to　dress,　survey　the　city,　and　pay　his　respects　to　local　celebrities.　He　had　to　make　contacts　and　look　for　a　theater.　He　could　not　afford　to　be　lazy　like　his　brother,　or　irresponsible　like　his　wife.　He　had　to　find　a　place　immediately　where　Lotus　Charm　and　he　could　sing　and　make　some　money.　Else　they　would　starve.

Useless　Fang　was　concerned　when　he　saw　his　brother　so　an_xious　to　get　started.　“My　dear　brother,"　he　said,　“our　songs　are　of　the　north　country.　Do　you　think　anyone　would　appreciate　them　in　these　hills？"

Pao　Ching　laughed.　“Don't　worry,　elder　brother.　So　long　as　there　is　a　place　to　sing,　even　if　it　should　be　in　Turkey,　I　can　make　my　bowl　of　rice！"

“Really？"Useless　Fang　was　gloomy.　He　had　taken　off　his　shirt　and　was　rubbing　the　sweaty　grime　from　his　chest.　He　did　not　share　his　brother's　optimism,　nor　did　he　like　this　oven　of　a　city　in　the　mountains.

“My　dear　elder　brother,"　said　Pao　Ching,　“please　keep　watch　while　I　am　out.　Don't　let　Lotus　Charm　go　out　alone.　Don't　let　her　mother　get　drunk　and　be　careless　with　cigarette　butts.　These　flimsy　houses　are　like　match　boxes.　One　cigarette　butt　in　the　wrong　place,and　the　whole　street　goes　up　in　flame."

“But　what　..."　Useless　Fang　was　about　to　protest.

Pao　Ching　guessed　what　his　brother　wanted　to　say,　and　grinned.　“Don't　tell　me　that　story.　They　are　all　afraid　of　you.　You　are　the　only　one　they　listen　to.　Isn't　that　so？"

Useless　Fang　smiled　almost　grudgingly.

Pao　Ching　piled　his　things　together,　wrapped　them　in　a　large　handkerchief,　and　tucked　the　bundle　under　his　arm.　First　to　a　bath　house　where　he　could　bathe　and　shave　his　head　before　dressing　in　his　best　clothes.

Carrying　the　parcel,　he　walked　quietly　out　of　the　room　so　his　wife　would　not　notice.

But　she　heard　him.　“Hic　...　You　...　Where　are　you　going？"

He　did　not　answer.　He　merely　shrugged　his　shoulders　and　hurried　down　the　rickety　stairs.

Outside,　he　took　a　deep　breath　and　set　out　briskly.　He　quickly　forgot　his　family　troubles　as　he　looked　over　the　city.　He　liked　the　broad　main　street　with　its　concrete　buildings　and　dazzling　neon　lights.　This　was　excellent.　These　lights　meant　business.

He　found　a　bath　house,　and　the　moment　he　was　inside　he　started　nodding　to　everyone,　including　the　attendants,　as　though　they　were　old　friends.　He　discovered　two　or　three　bathers　who　had　been　fellow　passengers　on　board　ship.　He　shook　their　hands　cordially.　Then　he　went　to　the　cashier　and　paid　their　checks　for　them　without　letting　them　know.

He　impressed　everyone　in　the　bath　house.　Soon　everybody　knew　that　a　very　distinguished　person　was　taking　a　bath　among　them.　Even　the　lazy　Szechwan　attendants　gave　him　special　attention,　running　to　get　hot　tea　and　bringing　warm　towels.

He　had　shaved　his　head　and　face.　Then,　naked　and　relaxed,　he　leaped　into　the　steaming　pool　and　swam　around　like　a　young　sea　lion.　Then　he　sat　on　the　edge　of　the　pool.　There,　after　slapping　his　chest　with　his　fists,　he　began　to　sing.　His　voice　was　not　loud,　but　deep　and　resonant.　He　was　happy.　Hundreds　of　things　were　waiting　to　be　done,　but　he　was　in　no　hurry.　He　had　to　sing　for　a　while.　He　enjoyed　hearing　his　own　voice,　yet　he　also　liked　admiration　from　others.

Later,　when　he　had　stopped　sweating,　he　put　on　his　expensive　silk　gown　and　satin　slippers.　He　turned　in　his　soiled　clothes　at　the　front　desk　to　be　laundered,　and　feeling　clean　and　refreshed,　walked　out　into　the　street　to　begin　work.

First　he　must　find　out　what　kind　of　acts　the　local　vaudevilles　were　showing,　and　if　their　business　was　good.　For　an　hour,　he　visited　tea　houses,　and　found　that　all　along　the　riverbank,　the　native　artists　were　singing　songs　and　telling　stories　in　their　own　style　to　the　accompaniment　of　music.　Judging　by　Peiping　standards,　he　did　not　think　highly　of　their　native　art.　His　own　melodies　were　much　more　complicated　and　refined.　But　a　good　artist　should　be　humble　and　remember　there　is　always　something　to　be　learned.

What　made　him　happy　was　that　all　the　houses　were　doing　good　business.　If　these　artists　could　make　money,　so　could　he　and　Lotus　Charm.　The　natives　would　not　understand　all　their　songs.　But　a　new　act　was　always　a　box_office　attraction,　and　these　Szechwan　folk　must　be　curious　to　see　something　from　far　away.　Chungking　was　now　the　provisional　wartime　capital,　and　people　were　gathered　there　from　all　parts　of　the　country.　Even　if　the　natives　did　not　come　to　see　his　show,　the　refugees　would.　Yes,　everything　looked　good.

But　he　must　have　a　troupe.　Lotus　Charm　and　he　could　not　sing　in　the　tea　houses　or　in　those　booths　along　the　riverbank.　Not　that,　definitely.　He　was　a　respectable　artist　from　Peiping.　He　had　sung　in　such　large　cities　as　Shanghai,　Nanking,　and　Hankow.　He　must　have　a　theater　of　his　own　where　he　could　display　his　silk　embroidered　with　gold,　his　curtains,　table　covers　and　the　scrolls　and　banners　which　had　been　given　him　in　appreciation　by　famous　people　all　over　the　country.　He　had　to　have　a　good　selection　of　programs　too,　including　folk　songs　and　tales,　a　couple　of　fast_talking　comedians,　some　magic,　and　a　good　ventriloquist.　Anything　and　everything,　with　himself　as　star.　If　he　could　not　assemble　a　vaudeville　troupe　of　his　own　sort　right　away,　he　would　have　to　get　some　local　artists　to　help.　But　whatever　happened,　he　would　give　the　people　of　Chungking　a　chance　to　see　and　enjoy　something　different.

He　walked　faster　and　he　began　to　sweat　again.　But　the　perspiration　was　comfortable　and　cooling.　The　damper　he　became,　the　better　he　felt.

Like　other　large　cities,　Chungking　had　scores　of　tea　houses.　Pao　Ching　walked　from　one　to　the　other.　He　quickly　discovered　who　were　the　people　in　town　worth　seeing.　He　knew　some　of　their　names　even　before　he　arrived　in　Chungking.　But　before　going　out　to　see　them,　he　preferred　to　sit　around　the　tea　houses　to　absorb　the　local　atmosphere.　You　saw　everyone　here　—　merchants　and　gangsters,　refined　scholars　and　gamblers.　Pao　Ching　struck　up　an　acquaintance　with　everyone　he　saw.

In　one　tea　house,　he　met　an　old　friend,　Fourth　Master　Tang.　Tang's　daughter,　Jeweled　Lute,　was　also　a　drum　singer.

Pao　Ching　had　worked　in　the　same　touring　company　with　Tang　in　Tsinan,　Shanghai,　Chinkiang,　and　other　cities.　His　daughter　Jeweled　Lute　had　a　strong　voice,　but　it　lacked　tone　color　and　rhythm.　Pao　Ching　did　not　care　much　for　her　work　nor　did　he　like　her　personality.　He　had　found　that　money　was　more　important　to　her　than　friendship.　Her　father　Fourth　Master　Tang　was　much　the　same.　The　Fangs　and　the　Tangs　had　quarreled　hideously　before.　For　a　long　time,　the　two　families　had　not　been　on　speaking　terms.

But　today,　as　they　met,　Pao　Ching　and　Fourth　Master　Tang　felt　like　two　dear　brothers　who　had　not　seen　each　other　for　a　long　time.　They　shook　hands　fondly　and　tightly,　and　their　eyes　moistened　with　sentimental　tears.　Pao　Ching　was　looking　for　a　singer,　so　he　could　organize　his　troupe;　and　Fourth　Master　Tang　was　desperately　anxious　to　find　work　for　his　daughter;　otherwise,　he　indicated　morosely,　his　whole　family　would　be　stranded　penniless　in　Chungking.　The　necessity　of　the　hour　made　them　forget　their　former　differences.　Both　warmed　at　meeting　under　such　a　circumstance.　Deep　in　his　heart　Pao　Ching　knew　that　if　he　was　going　to　work　with　Fourth　Master　Tang,　sooner　or　later　he　would　get　the　losing　end　of　the　deal.　But　he　could　not　pass　up　an　opportunity　when　he　needed　help　so　desperately.　As　for　Fourth　Master　Tang,　he　felt　as　if　he　had　a　piece　of　tasty　meat　in　his　mouth　the　moment　he　saw　Pao　Ching;　he　was　determined　to　bite　it　hard　and　not　let　it　go.　He　knew　he　could　take　advantage　of　Pao　Ching　easily.　He　would　do　it　now　as　always.　But　the　tears　in　his　eyes　were　real　as　he　shook　Pao　Ching's　hand.

“My　dear　Fourth　Master　Tang,"　Pao　Ching　said　warmly,　“how　come　that　you　are　here？"

“My　honorable　friend　Pao　Ching　..."　Fourth　Master　Tang's　tears　streamed　down　his　cheeks.　“Pao　Ching,　you　must　help　me.　I　am　practically　lost　in　these　barbarian　hills！"

Fourth　Master　Tang　was　a　thin　short　man　about　fifty　years　old.　Although　he　was　small,　his　voice　was　loud.　His　face　was　long　and　thin　with　a　high　narrow　nose　that　looked　like　an　old_fashioned　straight　razor.　As　he　talked,　his　head　kept　turning　from　side　to　side.　His　small　eyes　were　deeply　set,　and　only　occasionally　did　he　look　anyone　straight　in　the　face.

“Is　your　whole　family　here？"　Pao　Ching　asked.

“Yes,　even　Little　Liu　is　with　us！"

“Little　Liu？"　Pao　Ching　was　trying　to　recall.　“Is　he　the　one　who　plays　the　san_hsien　accompaniment　for　your　daughter？"

“Of　course."　Fourth　Master　Tang　looked　at　Pao　Ching,　noticing　how　pleased　Pao　Ching　was.　He　guessed　that　Pao　Ching　was　badly　in　need　of　an　accompanist.　That　brother　of　his,　Useless　Fang,　could　play　the　instrument　beautifully,　but　he　would　not.　So　if　Pao　Ching　could　not　find　an　accompanist,　he　would　be　in　a　bad　spot　indeed.　Little　Liu　was　not　a　good　accompanist,　but　he　would　do　in　this　remote　hilly　country.

“Let's　go,　my　dear　Fourth　Master　Tang.　Please　take　me　to　see　your　family,"　Pao　Ching　said,　with　sudden　enthusiasm.　He　wanted　to　see　Little　Liu　and　Jeweled　Lute　right　away　and　get　them　to　join　his　troupe.

“Pao　Ching,　my　dear　friend,　we've　been　here　almost　two　weeks　and　haven't　yet　been　able　to　find　an　opening,"　lamented　Fourth　Master　Tang.　“Do　you　think　you　can　arrange　it？"　Fourth　Master　Tang　wished　to　know　what　Pao　Ching　could　do　for　him　before　letting　him　see　Little　Liu　and　his　daughter.　Pao　Ching's　quick　enthusiasm　had　made　him　dubious.

Pao　Ching　pointed　at　his　own　nose　significantly.　“My　dear　Fourth　Master　Tang,　as　long　as　you　are　willing　to　help,　I　will　get　the　business.　Just　think　—　with　Little　Liu　and　Jeweled　Lute　and　my　daughter　Lotus　Charm　and　myself,　we　have　three　acts.　All　that　remains　then　is　to　add　a　few　more　—　some　local　talent　perhaps　—　and　we　can　begin　to　play　right　away.　Let's　go！"

“Are　you　sure？"　Fourth　Master　Tang　was　not　going　to　let　another　man's　enthusiasm　dispel　his　own　doubts.

“My　dear　Fourth　Master　Tang,"　remarked　Pao　Ching　loftily,　“do　you　think　that　I,　Fang　Pao　Ching,　would　tell　you　lies？　When　I　say　I　will　get　the　business,　I　will　get　the　business！"

Fourth　Master　Tang　shook　his　head,　thinking　quickly.　He　had　wanted　Pao　Ching's　help　at　first.　But　now,　when　he　saw　how　eager　Pao　Ching　was　to　work　with　him,　he　felt　he　must　reverse　the　situation　and　make　Pao　Ching　beg　for　his　help　instead.　“Pao　Ching,"　he　said,　“I　think　I'll　go　home　and　talk　it　over　with　them　first."

Pao　Ching　knew　that　Fourth　Master　Tang　was　cunning.　But　he　noticed　he　had　not　yet　refused　altogether　to　cooperate.　He　pretended　not　to　be　anxious　at　all.“My　dear　Fourth　Master　Tang,　you　can　go　home　if　you　like.　With　Jeweled　Lute　and　Little　Liu,I　could　form　a　troupe.　But　remember　this,　I　shall　still　form　a　troupe　even　without　them.　Give　them　my　regards.Goodbye."　He　started　to　walk　away.

Fourth　Master　Tang　laughed.　“Please　don't　go,　Pao　Ching.　Come　to　talk　to　them　now　if　you　like."

The　hotel　where　the　Tangs　lived　was　even　smaller　than　that　of　the　Fangs.　The　smaller　the　place,　the　more　Mrs.　Tang　and　Jeweled　Lute's　“greatness"　was　evident.　Mrs.　Tang　was　three　times　as　wide　as　Fourth　Master　Tang,　while　Jeweled　Lute　was　at　least　two　inches　taller　than　her　father.　If　the　mother　was　a　mountain　of　flesh,　the　daughter　was　a　slim　pagoda.　Both　were　fanning　themselves　furiously.

Jeweled　Lute　was　not　attractive,except　on　stage.Then　she　made　her　cheeks　and　lips　bright　with　make_up.　Her　eyebrows　were　very　wide　and　black.　Her　hair　was　kinky　with　a　permanent　wave.　Now　she　had　no　make_up　on,　and　her　face　was　damp　with　perspiration.　She　was　almost　ugly,　Pao　Ching　thought.　But　she　had　remarkable　eyes.　They　could　fix　you　with　a　disconcerting　gaze.　Her　eyes　were　brownblack,　very　large　and　bright,　almost　glittering.　When　you　first　looked　at　them,　they　seemed　brown.　But　when　she　stared　into　yours,　they　became　darker　and　darker,　until　suddenly　they　turned　brown　again.

Mrs.Tang's　voice　was　high_pitched.　When　she　was　not　talking,　she　made　a　snorting　noise　with　her　breath.

“Ai_ya,"　Mrs.Tang　exclaimed.　“I　was　wondering　who　was　coming.　So　it　is　Pao　Ching."　She　was　sitting　in　a　bamboo　chair.　The　lower　half　of　her　body　was　so　tightly　enclosed　by　the　chair　that　she　could　not　get　up　to　greet　Pao　Ching.　She　was　fanning　herself　furiously　with　a　palm_leaf　fan,　and　shouting　in　that　shrill　high_pitched　voice.　“Wonderful,　wonderful.　I　don't　have　to　worry　any　more.　We　shan't　starve　to　death　here.　Sit　down,　sit　down,　please.　Fourth　Master,　go　make　some　tea."

Pao　Ching　looked　round.　He　could　not　find　a　place　to　sit.“I　don't　want　to　sit,"　he　said　politely.“And　please,　my　dear　Fourth　Master　Tang,　I　am　not　thirsty.　And　you,　Mrs.Tang,　I　hope　you've　been　well？"

“Well？"　Mrs.　Tang　snapped.　“I've　lost　more　than　ten　catties　of　flesh　since　we've　been　in　this　horrible　city！"　She　felt　her　own　fat　arm　and　sighed.

“And　how　are　you,　Miss　Jeweled　Lute？"　Pao　Ching　smiled,　trying　to　be　sociable.

Jeweled　Lute　smiled　for　a　moment,　till　she　thought　of　something　to　say.　“Why,　Second　Uncle　Fang,　your　head　is　still　as　bald　as　ever！"　she　teased.

Pao　Ching　laughed.　But　he　was　thinking　that　from　the　way　Jeweled　Lute　looked,　so　carelessly　dressed　and　without　makeup,　she　might　not　at　the　moment　be　having　much　business　on　the　side.　Pao　Ching　had　never　liked　her　and　did　not　want　Lotus　Charm　to　associate　with　her　or　learn　her　evil　ways.　Jeweled　Lute　would　do　anything　for　money.　Pao　Ching　wondered　if　now　she　might　not　be　having　an　unprofitable　affair　with　Little　Liu.　He　came　back　from　his　thoughts　and　inquired,　“Where's　Little　Liu？"

Fourth　Master　Tang　called,　“Little　Liu,　Little　Liu.　Please　come　out.　Second　Master　Fang　is　here！"

Lazily　and　dreamily,　Little　Liu　dragged　himself　into　the　living　room,　yawning.　He　was　a　thin,　fragile　man　of　about　thirty.　He　had　fine　features,　but　he　was　so　thin　that　a　slight　breeze　could　blow　him　away.　His　face　was　pale,　as　if　he　might　be　an　opium　addict.　Now,　because　he　had　just　waked　up,　there　were　pink　blotches　on　his　face　which　made　him　look　young　and　innocent.

He　was　very　pleased　to　see　Pao　Ching.　He　smiled　and　said　softly,　“Hullo,　Second　Master　Fang."　When　he　noticed　Pao　Ching　was　still　standing,　he　said,　“I'll　go　get　you　a　chair."

“Please　don't　stand　on　ceremony,"　Pao　Ching　said　politely.　“How　are　you,　Little　Liu？"

Fourth　Master　Tang　quickly　interrupted.　“Let's　come　to　the　point.　Don't　just　stand　there！"

“That's　right,　Second　Master　Fang,"　Mrs.Tang　said.　“You　have　a　proposition.　So　you　talk　first！"　She　fanned　herself　furiously.

Pao　Ching　said,very　earnestly,　“Jeweled　Lute　and　Little　Liu,　I　come　to　ask　your　help.　I　want　to　organize　a　troupe."

“Then　what's　there　to　talk　about？"　Mrs.　Tang　laughed.“You　are　the　one　who　wants　our　help.　So　give　us　an　advance　first！"

Pao　Ching　gasped,　but　quickly　forced　a　smile.　“My　good　Mrs.　Tang,　you　ask　me　for　an　advance？　Aren't　we　all　refugees？"

Mrs.　Tang　looked　grim.　Little　Liu　had　been　on　the　point　of　saying　he　was　willing　to　help,　but　caught　himself.　He　took　out　a　pack　of　“Double　Swords"　cigarettes　and　passed　them.　Everyone　took　one　except　Pao　Ching.

“Since　there's　no　advance,　we　can't　go　along,"　Fourth　Master　Tang　said.

“Friendship　and　trust,"　Pao　Ching　asserted.　“Aren't　they　worth　more　than　anything　else　we　can　think　of？"　Pao　Ching's　tone　was　both　earnest　and　dramatic.

“But　suppose　you　aren't　able　to　form　a　troupe　and　we've　found　work　elsewhere,　what　then？"　Fourth　Master　Tang　asked.　He　had　no　faith　in　either　friendship　or　trust.

“I　won't　stop　you　from　making　a　fortune！"　Pao　Ching　too　could　be　sharp　when　he　wanted　to.

“Is　that　so？　Well,we're　all　fighting　empty_handed,　ai_ya！"　Mrs.　Tang　cried　despondently.　She　turned　her　eyes　to　the　ceiling.

“Honestly,"　Pao　Ching　said　emphatically,　“If　I　can　form　a　troupe,　I　will　treat　you　well.　Whatever　percentage　my　daughter　Lotus　Charm　takes,　Jeweled　Lute　will　get　the　same.　As　to　Little　Liu,　he　would　get　a　twenty_eighty　share　from　whomever　he　plays　accompaniment　for.　That's　the　rule.　What　do　you　think？"

“I　...,"　Little　Liu　lisped.　He　dared　not　express　his　opinion　aloud.　He　nodded　to　show　that　he　agreed.

Both　Fourth　Master　Tang　and　his　wife　decided　to　say　no　more.　They　stared　at　Pao　Ching,　hoping　to　confuse　him　and　make　him　give　them　better　terms,　though　they　knew　the　ones　he　offered　were　good.

It　was　Jeweled　Lute　who　finally　spoke.　“That's　settled,　Second　Uncle　Fang."

Fourth　Master　Tang　and　his　wife　were　inwardly　relieved.

“That's　settled　then.　Wait　till　you　hear　from　me,"　Pao　Ching　said,　and　left.