Chapter Eighty-Four: The Pig That Gores the Precarious Tower, Part Three

A maid let out a shriek and fell from the upper stories, and with her came a massive hog. Her body spun as she struck a mass of silk blossoms; not far away, the hog hit the floor and burst apart in a spray of blood and flesh.

The handsome face of Prince Zhao Zongyi had twisted into a hideous snarl. If he had not shoved that maid forward to take the blow for him just now, the filthy beast would have thrust its snout against him.

Looking around, the entire building was filled with wild, rampaging hogs. He had never hated this creature as he did at that moment.

The household men had already begun driving these unwelcome guests away with every weapon they could find.

A gigantic hog, panting hard, climbed the stairs and shoved its huge snout toward Zhao Zongyi. At this moment there was no trace left of anything princely about him; neither gentleness nor benevolence remained.

He raised both hands before his face and knelt on the floor, emitting terrible roars as he tried to frighten off the great pig before him.

The hog was not afraid in the least. Zhao Zongyi only felt the darkness close in, then some wet, slippery thing kept sliding up and down over his face. Terrified, he meant to shout aloud, but the moment his mouth opened, a soft, fleshy thing entered it, turned once inside, and then withdrew.

Watching the huge pig smack its lips and lick madly at the floor beside a pillar, Zhao Zongyi suddenly began laughing, then in an instant broke into miserable sobs. A stream of urine slowly seeped from beneath him, spreading at last into a wide and shameful pool.

More and more hogs struggled up the stairs, while more and more guests screamed and fled downward. Any one of them who lost his footing rolled tumbling down the steps.

"Fire!"

At last someone saw the fierce flames consuming Old Liang's corpse and could not help shouting at the top of his lungs.

That was like poking a hornet's nest. The hogs, of course, knew nothing of the mercilessness of water and fire, but the scholars, ladies, and grandees upstairs knew all too well the horrors that would follow if a wooden building caught fire.

One after another, they no longer cared to hide themselves, and forgot their fear of the vicious-faced hogs. They surged down the stairs in a scramble, with fine shoes and embroidered slippers flying in all directions.

Some ladies and servants from poor families, less afraid of the hogs, picked up jewelry and jade pendants wherever they went. In the space of barely a hundred steps, the ornaments they gathered would have been enough to live lavishly for decades.

A loyal old retainer, despite being busy fleeing for his life, saw the Sixth Prince seated in the stairwell, laughing and crying like a fool. With a sigh, he went forward and half dragged, half supported the prince as he laboriously made his way down.

By then, the fire had already sealed off the main entrance to the whole building.

Just when all were crying out that there was no hope of escape, a great surge of water burst in from outside and drove back the flames. More than a hundred firemen, wrapped in wet quilts, shouted as they charged in and, regardless of whether the noble before them was man or woman, wrapped them in the damp bedding and hauled them outside.

Seeing the blaze gradually die, Ironheart Yuan felt a little disappointed, while Wang Rouhua, her head resting on his shoulder, let out a long breath. At the very least, it seemed that there were not many dead or injured.

A year of peace is a year without death.

That was what Wang Rouhua believed. The great flood years ago had shown her every manner of corpse, and the one she had loved most had died in that deluge. Even now, in dreams at midnight, the scene of her Seventh Brother straining to push her and the child away still remained clear.

Even at the moment the flood swallowed him, what he worried about was her safety and Yuan'er’s. As for himself, he had never put it in mind.

The tall building was in complete chaos now, a total shambles. Fire crews and soldiers were hurling water into the inferno, while countless clerks, draped in wet cotton quilts, obeyed the county magistrate’s orders and rushed repeatedly into the flames, each time bringing out one noble after another amid showers of sparks.

Ironheart Yuan watched coldly. This was the true efficiency of the Great Song bureaucracy: those fighting the fire, those rescuing people, those driving away the pigs, those sealing off the scene. Every place seemed disorderly, yet in truth everything was arranged with discipline.

The nobles rescued from the fire, each with their hair singed and faces blackened, said nothing as they hurried away in their carriages. Now and then, the sobbing of female attendants could be heard from within. Ironheart Yuan believed that from this day forward, they would never again lack material for nightmares.

When the fire met cold water, it released great clouds of steam, shrouding the entire scene in mist. Just as the blaze was being pushed back and gradually losing strength, a soldier from the fire patrol suddenly cried out, "Bad news! The water casks are empty!"

The magistrate froze for a moment, then pointed toward the river channel not far away. "Go fetch more water quickly!"

The fire patrol soldier looked at him as one might look at a fool, and after a moment said, "The river is frozen solid. It is no easy task to draw water."

The magistrate stamped his feet. "Whatever means you use, you must bring water at once!" Seeing the blaze ready to flare up again, he cared nothing for dignity and barked his orders in fury.

With a tremendous crash, something struck the already collapsed doorway of the building and sent it flying up once more. Immediately after, a hog engulfed in flames came screaming out of the fire. Perhaps its eyes had been damaged, for once it burst from the blaze it began running in circles through the crowd, smashing aside countless people who blocked its way.

Even with the clerks striking it with batons and knives, the hog's speed did not slow in the least. At last it found the right direction and no longer ran in circles, but its pace slackened. After a few feeble grunts, it fell with a thud. The flames on its body not only failed to go out, they burned ever more fiercely. As the stench of scorched flesh spread, the fire patrol soldiers were all horrified. If that hog had remained inside the building, it would have been a giant torch in motion.

Just as the magistrate felt that suicide might be his only course, more fire patrol soldiers arrived from every direction, driving water-carts before them. Then bright white torrents shot up once more and swiftly extinguished every blaze one by one.

Old Gou and the leatherworker, returning from reporting the matter to the authorities, could not help but sigh and sit down heavily on the sand, already regretting that they had gone to the magistrate so early.

Wang Rouhua said slowly, "By now, whether the building burns down or not makes little difference. Even if the prince's estate were wealthier than kings, it would still be impossible to open it again.

"Tonight countless nobles have been frightened, and countless ladies have shown themselves before the public. Even if the prince's estate wished to soothe them, it would require immense effort.

"And even if the estate repaired the building anew, no one would come. At the very least, those nobles who have become the butt of all the capital's jokes will never return."

Seeing Old Gou and the leatherworker reignited with hope by her words, Ironheart Yuan could only sigh inwardly.

He was far less optimistic than his mother. It was true that no more grandees would come to this building, but if it were rebuilt as a gambling den or pleasure house, there would be no problem at all in making a fortune every day.

The people of the Song loved gambling. Even in ordinary times, when they ran small businesses, they liked transactions in the form of wagers and pools. Once the building was converted into a casino and pleasure quarter, the area around the West Water Gate would quickly become a sink of corruption. By then, amid the mingling of all sorts of people, the West Water Gate would truly become the dangerous district that kept the people of the capital away, a paradise for adventurers.

Ironheart Yuan felt that whatever he could think of, the Great Song would naturally have others who could think of it too. In this age of intense commerce, skimming profit from the edges was by no means the exclusive preserve of later generations.

Watching a great team of clerks enter the building carrying long spears, Ironheart Yuan knew the matter had come to its end. The hogs should have calmed down by now and no longer possessed the ferocity they had shown earlier. Soon they would be driven out of the building by the clerks.

Wang Rouhua rose and bowed to the neighbors around them. "The night is cold and the dew is heavy. There is no benefit in remaining here. Everyone should go home. As for where the West Water Gate should go from here, tomorrow will show the answer."

The Iron family carriage, carrying women and children alike, was preparing to leave the building. Ironheart Yuan's mood was extremely low; he felt that he had brought trouble upon everyone.

Old Gou, walking ahead while leading the horse, suddenly turned back in alarm. "The building is going to collapse."

Ironheart Yuan quickly lifted the carriage curtain. The towering structure seemed to be swaying, and especially the highest upper story that jutted out over empty space; bricks, tiles, and timber were tumbling down from it with crackling sounds.

The clerks who had already entered the building in front all clutched their heads and dashed wildly back out. Ironheart Yuan watched as the structure lurched toward the river channel, then toppled headlong onto the ice. The tremendous force smashed the river ice to pieces. The heavy pavilion sank slowly into the channel, bubbles rising all the while. Soon only half of the building remained above the water, while the other half was completely submerged.

Ironheart Yuan burst into laughter. Wang Rouhua slapped him on the forehead and said, "What is so funny?"

Ironheart Yuan laughed until he nearly choked, clutching his stomach and gasping as he pointed at the ruined building. "They drove the pigs up to the top, and those pigs crushed the building down..."

As soon as he spoke, Old Gou collapsed to the ground and simply stayed there, laughing so hard tears poured from his eyes.

The leatherworker threw himself onto Old Gou, hugging him joyfully. "Ha! My leather shop doesn't have to move now, and neither does your grain shop, Old Gou! Hahaha! With the building gone, this place is still a cargo dock!"

Wang Rouhua clapped her hands in delight. "No one go back yet. Come with me to the noodle shop in Zaozhong Alley. The large vat of rice that was steamed today for brewing will not be used for wine after all. I'll have everyone taste a new dish from Seventh Brother's noodle shop."

Old Gou shoved aside the leatherworker, who was still trying to take advantage of him, and laughed. "Then we must certainly try it. To speak frankly, this old man hasn't had so much as a grain of rice since dawn, and now I'm starving. Come, come!"

The carriage set off briskly once more, while Old Gou, the leatherworker, and several middle-aged men followed behind with cheerful faces. No one knew what start the leatherworker had given, but soon they began singing in loud voices as they ran.

Seated in the dark carriage, Ironheart Yuan quietly lifted a corner of the curtain and looked toward the building, now farther and farther away, and thought to himself, "Old Liang, may today be a happy day for you."

Perhaps Old Liang truly had a spirit in heaven, for a meteor streaked across the night sky, drawing a bright line through the heavens before vanishing to some unknown place far away.