Judge Dee cast a pitying glance at the old man, who was now lying bent over the table, with his head on his arms. He heard his irregular breathing. Then he followed Liang Fen, who brought him to a small study at the back of the house. The door stood open; it gave on a small but well-kept flower garden surrounded by a high fence.

The secretary made Judge Dee sit down in the large armchair by the desk, piled with ledgers and books. "I'll now call the old couple that looks after His Excellency," he said hurriedly. "They'll bring him to his bedroom."

Left alone in the quiet study, Judge Dee slowly stroked his beard. He reflected dejectedly that his luck was not in that day.

Liang Fen came back and busied himself about the tea table. When he had poured a scalding-hot cup of tea for the judge, he sat down on a tabouret and said unhappily:

"I deeply regret that His Excellency had one of his spells just when Your Honor came to see him! Can I perhaps be of any service?"

"Well, no," Judge Dee replied. "Since when has the Councilor had these fits?"

"It began about half a year ago, Your Honor," Liang Fen said with a sigh. "It is now eight months since his eldest son in the capital sent me here to act as his father's private secretary. For me it was a godsend to obtain this post, for to tell you the truth I belong to an impoverished branch of the family. Here I found food and shelter, and sufficient spare time to prepare myself for my second literary examination. The first two months everything went well; the Councilor had me come every morning to his library for an hour or so and dictated letters to me, or told me all kinds of interesting anecdotes from his long career when he felt in the mood. He is very nearsighted, so he had nearly all the furniture removed from that room, to avoid bumping himself. He also used to complain of rheumatism; but his mind was wonderfully clear. He himself directed the administration of his extensive landed property, and he did it very well.

"About six months ago, however, he must have had a stroke during the night. He suddenly spoke with difficulty, and often seemed completely dazed. He summoned me only once a week or so, and then would doze off in the middle of our conversation. Also, he will often stay in his bedroom for days on end, feeding only on tea and pine seeds, and drinking infusions of herbs which he prepares himself. The old couple think that he is trying to find the Elixir of Immortality!"

Judge Dee shook his head. He said with a sigh:

"It's not always a blessing to reach such an advanced age!"

"It's a calamity, Your Honor!" the young man exclaimed. "It's therefore that I felt I had to ask Your Honor's advice! Despite his illness, the Councilor insists on conducting all his own financial affairs. He writes letters which he doesn't show me, and he had long discussions with Wan I-fan, a business promoter whom Mr. Liu Fei-po introduced to him some time ago. I am not allowed to take part in those. But I have to keep the books, and I noticed that of late the Councilor has been engaging in fantastic business transactions. He is selling large lots of good arable land for a ridiculously low price! He is selling out his possessions, Your Honor, at a tremendous loss! The family will hold me responsible, but what can I do? They can't expect me to give unasked-for advice to His Excellency!"

The judge nodded comprehendingly. This was indeed a delicate problem. After a while he said:

"It won't be an easy or agreeable task, Mr. Liang, but you will have to apprise the Councilor's son of the situation. Why don't you propose to him that he come here for a few weeks; then he'll see for himself that his father is in his dotage."

Liang Fen didn't seem to relish the idea. The judge felt sorry for him; he fully realized how awkward it was for a poor relation of such an illustrious person to communicate to the family the unwelcome news about the head of their clan. He said:

"If you could show me some actual examples of the Councilor's mismanagement, I shall be glad to draw up a note for you that I, the magistrate, have personally convinced myself that the Councilor is not any longer capable of conducting his affairs."

The young man's face lit up. He said gratefully:

"That would be a tremendous help, Your Honor! I have here a summary of the Councilor's most recent transactions, which I drew up for my own orientation. And here is the ledger with His Excellency's instructions, written by himself, in the margin. The writing is very small, because of his nearsightedness, but the meaning is clear enough! Your Honor'11 see that the offer for that piece of land was far below its actual value. It is true that the buyer paid cash in gold bars, but-"

Judge Dee seemed deeply engrossed in the summary Liang had given him. But he didn't take in the content; he looked only at the handwriting. It resembled closely that of the love letters which the Student of the Bamboo Grove sent to the dead dancer.

He looked up and spoke.

"I'll take your summary with me for a closer study." As he rolled it up and put it in his sleeve he said: "The suicide of Candidate Djang Hoo-piao must have been a big blow to you."

"To me!" Liang Fen asked, astonished. "I have heard people talk about it, of course, but I have never met that unfortunate youth. I hardly know anybody in this town, Your Honor; I seldom go out, practically only to the Temple of Confucius, for consulting the books in the library there. I use all my spare time for my studies."

"Yet you do find time for visiting the Willow Quarter, don't you?" Judge Dee asked coldly.

"Who has been spreading that slanderous talk!" Liang Fen exclaimed indignantly. "I never go out at night, Your Honor; the old couple here will confirm that! I haven't the slightest interest in those light women, I… Besides, where in the world would I get the money for such escapades?"

The judge made no response. He rose and went to the garden door. He asked:

"Used the Councilor to walk out there when he was still in good health?"

Liang Fen shot the judge a quick look. Then he replied:

"No, Your Honor; this is only a back garden. That small gate over there leads to the alley behind the house. The main garden is over on the other side of the compound. I trust that Your Honor doesn't give any credence to those evil rumors about me? I really can't imagine who-"

"It doesn't matter," Judge Dee interrupted him. "I shall study your summary at leisure, and in due time let you know."

The young man thanked him profusely, then led him to the first courtyard and helped him to ascend his palanquin.

When Judge Dee came back to the tribunal, he found Sergeant Hoong and Chiao Tai waiting for him in his private office. Hoong said excitedly:

"Chiao Tai has made an important discovery in the house of Dr. Djang, Your Honor!"

"That's welcome news!" the judge remarked as he sat down behind his desk. "Speak up. What did you find, Chiao Tai?"

"It isn't much, really," Chiao Tai said deprecatingly. "With the main business we didn't get any forrader! I made a second search for that queer fellow who spied on Your Honor in the bridal room, and Ma Joong helped me after he had come back from the Buddhist Temple, but we didn't find the slightest clue to him or to his whereabouts. Neither did we find out anything special about that carpenter, Mao Yuan. The steward had summoned him two days before the wedding. The first day he made a wooden platform for the orchestra, and slept in the gatehouse. The second day he repaired some furniture and the roof of the bridal room, which was leaking. He again slept with the doorman, and the following morning repaired the large dining table. Then he lent a hand in the kitchen, and when the feast had started he helped the servants to drink the wine that was left over. He went to bed dead drunk! The next morning the dead body of the bride was discovered, and Mao stayed on out of curiosity till the professor came back from his fruitless search for his son. Then the steward saw Mao standing talking outside in the street with the fisherman who had found Candidate Djang's belt. Mao left with his toolbox and his ax. All those days Dr. Djang didn't speak with Mao; it was the housemaster who gave him his instructions and who paid him off." Chiao Tai pulled at his short mustache, then went on: