The Willow Pattern

He angrily hit his fist on his knee. After a while Judge Dee asked:

'Were other guests present at those parties in the gallery?'

'Only Doctor Lew. Always thought doctors didn't go in for those pastimes! But Yee never invited him when Por­phyry came. That pleasure he wanted to share only with me, his best friend! For Heaven's sake!’ He shifted on his camp-stool, evidently he expected his visitors to leave. But Judge Dee took his folding fan from his sleeve, sat back in his chair, and said, slowly fanning himself:

'I noticed that the architect who built this villa took the well-known porcelain design of the Willow Pattern as model.'

Hoo sat up.

'The Willow Pattern, eh?' he asked slowly. Then, with a determined effort regaining some of his former bluff manner, he said boisterously: 'The other way round, sir; the other way round! It was this villa here that served the pottery chaps as a model.'

Judge Dee exchanged a quick look with Tao Gan.

'I never knew that,' he told his host. 'I heard all kinds of stories about the origin of the pattern. About an old man­darin with a young daughter who ...'

Hoo cut him short with an impatient gesture.

'All stuff and nonsense, my lord! An old man with a young daughter, forsooth! No, the true story is different. Quite different. But our family never spoke up. The truth does not do much credit to us, you see. Have another cup of tea, my lord!'

While Hoo was refilling their cups, the judge thoughtfully observed him. Hoo's mood had changed again. There had come an inward look into his large eyes, and when he spoke up his voice was quite steady.

'The story goes back to my great-grandfather. To his later years, when the dynasty had been founded, and when he had lost his power. He was still a very wealthy man, though. Lived in grand style, in the family mansion, in the old city. Well, he fell madly in love with a beautiful young wench, in one of the city's brothels. Sapphire, her name was. Love at first sight, that crazy passion of an old man, you know. Bought her for six gold bars; damned expensive, but she was a virgin, you see. He built this villa for her. Since she had that slender waist that our poetry chaps call willow waist, he planted willow trees along the bank, and called the place Willow Abode. You may have noticed the inscription on the gate. That is in his own handwriting.

'Surrounded her with luxury, the old man did. But woman takes a lot of knowing! A young fellow of the Mei clan saw her; they fell in love, and decided to elope together. At that time there was a water pavilion in the moat here — the canal, you call it nowadays — connected with our garden by a narrow wooden bridge. My father had the pavilion pulled down, the pillars were rotting away. Well, on the appointed night, that fellow Mei had moored a fast junk under the pavilion, with a crew of good rowers. He thought the old man was tied up in the city, that day.

'Just when he was helping Sapphire pack her things, up in her room, at the other end of this floor, the old general walked in. He was over sixty then, but still as strong as an ox, and young Mei fled, with the wench on his heels. They ran down into the garden, my enraged ancestor behind them, waving his knobstick. When they were crossing the bridge, the old man gained on them, and he would have killed them both then and there. But the excitement had been too much for him and he suddenly collapsed, unconscious. The couple didn't give the old man a second look. They jumped into the boat, and off they went. Took refuge in the domain of the Marquis of Yeh, our old enemy. Young Mei became his financial adviser, I believe. Damned good money-grubber he was, just like all those Meis.'

Hoo pushed an unruly grey lock away from his sweating brow. He was looking at the darkness outside, with lowering, brooding eyes.

'The old man lived on for six more years, completely paralysed. Had to be fed with a spoon, like a small child. Sat every day in his armchair on the balcony here, moving only his eyes. They had a strange look, they said, nobody ever knew whether it was love or hate. Whether he wanted to sit there to gloat over the scene where he nearly succeeded in killing her, or because he was still hoping he would see her come back, some day.'

There was a long silence, broken only by Hoo's heavy breathing. He was still staring outside, his hands clenched, deep wrinkles in his broad, low forehead. Now he wiped his face with his sleeve, darted an uneasy look at his two guests from his bloodshot eyes, and said with a sickly grin:

'Please excuse my rambling on, my lord! All this will hardly interest you. Old story, all about people who are dead and gone!'

His voice had become hoarse, and he swallowed hard.

'You never married, Mr Hoo?' the judge asked.

'No sir, I didn't. Families like mine don't belong to this modern world, sir. We have had our day, so why carp? Mei is dead, Yee is dead, and I'll join them in due course.'

Tao Gan gave the judge a sign. He had seen a sedan chair halting on the bridge.

Judge Dee rose. Straightening his robe he said:

'I am glad I know now the real story of the Willow Pattern, Mr. Hoo. And many thanks for the tea!'