Judge Dee hardly enjoyed the prospect of sitting in on an official banquet, but as the magistrate of the district where the monastery was located he couldn't possibly refuse.

"I accept with the greatest pleasure!" he replied jovially. They rose and the abbot led him to the door.

When they were outside the abbot quickly looked up and down the semi-obscure corridor. He seemed relieved at seeing it completely deserted. He politely led the judge to a high double door.

Upon entering the enormous hall they were greeted by the deafening sounds of gongs, cymbals and some strident stringed instruments. They came from the orchestra of monks who were seated on a small platform on the left. The age-blackened roof of the hall was supported by a number of high thick pillars, among which were sitting over a hundred monks. The light of dozens of large paper lampions shone on their yellow robes.

The monks rose respectfully as the abbot led Judge Dee along the open path in the middle to a raised platform by the side of the stage in the back of the hall. The abbot sat down in a high-backed armchair of carved ebony, and bade the judge to be seated on his right. The third chair, on the abbot's left, was unoccupied.

The small prior came forward and reported that Master Sun had left, but that he would be back soon. The abbot nodded. He ordered him to bring fruit and other refreshments.

Judge Dee looked curiously at the magnificent pageant that was being enacted on the stage, which was lit by a row of red lampions. In the centre stood a high seat of gilded wood, on which was enthroned a handsome woman dressed in a red and green robe, glittering with gold ornaments. Her high chignon was decorated with a profusion of paper flowers, and she held a jade sceptre in her folded hands. Evidently she represented the Fairy Queen of the Taoist Western Paradise.

Eight figures, seven men and one woman, dressed in gorgeous long robes of embroidered silk were executing a slow dance in front of the Queen, to the measure of the solemn music. They represented the Eight Immortals of the Taoist Pantheon, doing homage to their Queen. "Are those two women nuns?" the judge asked.

"No," the abbot replied. "The Queen is played by an actress of Kuan's troupe; Miss Ting is her name, I think. During the interval she did a rather good acrobatic dance, and juggled with cups and saucers. The Flower Fairy is Kuan's wife."

Judge Dee watched the pageant for a while but found it rather boring. He reflected that perhaps he wasn't in the right mood for it. His head was throbbing and his hands and feet were ice-cold. He looked at the box over on the other side of the stage. It was enclosed on three sides by a lattice screen, so that the two women sitting inside could not be seen by the audience. One was a portly lady rather heavily made up and wearing a beautiful dress of black damask, the other a young girl, also dressed in black, but not made up at all. She had a handsome, regular face, but her eyebrows were thicker than is thought becoming to a woman. Both were watching the performance in rapt attention. The abbot who had been following Judge Dee's gaze said: "That is Mrs. Pao and her daughter White Rose."

The Judge saw to his relief that the Eight Immortals were descending the stage, followed by the Queen, who was led off by two novices dressed as pages. The music ended with a loud beat on the large bronze gong that reverberated through the hall. An appreciative murmur rose from the crowd of monks. Judge Dee sneezed again; he thought there was a nasty draught.

"A fine performance!" he remarked to the abbot. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Tao Gan step up to the dais. He came and stood behind Judge Dee's chair and whispered:

"The prior was busy but I had a talk with the almoner, sir. He claims that they have no ground plan of this place."

Judge Dee nodded. The hall had become quiet again. A powerfully built man with a broad, mobile actor's face had appeared on the stage. Evidently he was Mr. Kuan, the director of the troupe. He made a deep bow in the direction of the abbot, then announced in a clear voice: "By the leave of Your Holiness, we shall now, as usual, conclude the performance with a brief allegory. It represents the trials of the human soul seeking Salvation. The erring soul is played by Miss Ou-yang. She is harassed by Ignorance, played by a bear. Thank you!"

The astonished murmur from the audience was drowned in a mournful melody, interspersed with wailing blasts of the long brass trumpets that echoed through the hall. A slender girl dressed in a white robe with wide sleeves ascended the stage and started to execute a slow dance, turning round and round so that her sleeves and the trailing ends of her red sash fluttered about. Judge Dee looked intently at her heavily made-up face, then tried to get a glimpse of the girl in the box on the other side of the stage. But the portly lady was leaning forward, so that he couldn't see her daughter. Astonished, he said to Tao Gan: "That isn't an actress; that is Miss Pao, the girl who was sitting over in that screened box there!"

Tao Gan raised himself on tiptoe. He said: "A young girl is still sitting there, Your Honour. Next to a rather fat lady."

Craning his neck, Judge Dee had another look at the box.

"Yes, so she is," he said slowly. "But she is looking as scared as if she had seen a ghost. I wonder why that actress has made herself up so as to resemble Miss Pao. Perhaps she…"

He suddenly broke off. A big man dressed as an awe-inspiring warrior had appeared on the stage. His tight-fitting black costume accentuated his lithe, muscular body. The red light shone on the round helmet on his head and on the long sword that he whirled round. His face was painted red, with long white streaks across his cheeks.

"That's the man I saw with the naked girl!" Judge Dee whispered to Tao Gan. "Call the director here!"

The warrior was a superb swordsman. While dancing around the girl he made several quick passes at her with the long sword. She evaded the thrusts gracefully. Then he moved closer to her, stepping deftly to the measure of the drums. His sword swung close over her head, then came down in a wicked stroke that missed her shoulder by a hair-breadth. A sharp cry came from the ladies' box. Judge Dee saw that Miss Pao had risen and was gazing with horror-stricken face at the two figures on the stage, her hands gripping the balustrade. The portly lady spoke to her, but she didn't seem to hear.

The judge looked at the stage again.

"One wrong move and we'll have an accident!" he said worriedly to the abbot. "Who is that fellow anyway?"

"He is an actor called Mo Mo-te," the abbot replied. "I agree that he comes far too close. But he's being more careful now."

The warrior had indeed stopped his attacks on the girl. He was now executing a series of complicated feints some distance from her. His painted face flashed weirdly in the light of the lampions.

Tao Gan appeared by the side of Judge Dee's chair, and presented Mr. Kuan Lai, the director of the troupe.

"Why didn't you announce that Mo Mo-te would take part in the allegory?" the judge asked sharply.

Kuan smiled. "We often improvise a bit, sir," he said. "Mo Mo-te likes to show off his skill as a swordsman; therefore he assumed the role of Doubt, tormenting the erring soul."

"It comes too close to real torment to my taste," Judge Dee said curtly. "Look, he is attacking the dancer again!"

Now the girl evidently had difficulty in evading the vicious sword thrusts the warrior was aiming at her. Her breast was heaving and sweat streaked her made-up face. The judge thought there was something wrong with her left arm. He couldn't see it clearly because of the wide, swirling sleeve, but she seemed unable to use it, keeping it close to her body all the time. He said angrily to himself that if he was starting to see one-armed girls everywhere, he would have to take hold of himself. He sat up. A quick sword stroke cut off a corner from the dancer's fluttering left sleeve. A frightened cry sounded from the ladies' box.