The Nine Classes

Chapter 37: The Nine Classes

It had been a while since leaving Wuligang. The narrow forest path had gradually widened, and now there were more than just their two groups—horse carts, ox carts, and farmers carrying shoulder poles all pressed forward together.

The footprints on the ground were growing denser, and the animal droppings told Li Huowang that they should be reaching Jianye Town soon.

“Zhao Wu. People like Troupe Master Lü’s performers—their status is really that low?” Li Huowang asked, watching Zhao Wu, who was completely focused on practicing his writing.

Zhao Wu looked up from tracing characters with a twig, gave Li Huowang a surprised glance, then looked ahead toward the Zhao family troupe.

“Mm. Even if the crowd cheers for them during a show, it’s like the women in the pleasure houses,” Zhao Wu said. “Liking someone is one thing; their status is another. Opera performers are the lowest of the Nine Classes.”

“Is that so? What are the Nine Classes?” Li Huowang asked, surprised. If not for what had happened earlier with the Lü troupe, he never would have guessed.

“First: emperors and prime ministers,” Zhao Wu recited. “Second: officials and generals. Third: gentry and merchants. Fourth: clergymen and sect members. Fifth: craftsmen and artisans. Sixth: doctors, farmers, and geomancers. Seventh: shamans, beggars, and servants. Eighth: thieves, con men, and bandits. Ninth: actors and prostitutes.”

“And it’s not just about being looked down on,” Zhao Wu continued. “There are different rules too. People from the lower three classes can’t marry into respectable families. There are restrictions on what they can wear and ride—no horses, no sedan chairs, no brocade or silk. Even if they bring a case to court, their word counts for less.”

Hearing Zhao Wu rattle this off as smoothly as a tongue twister, Li Huowang was impressed. “Didn’t know you knew so much.”

“You flatter me, Senior Brother Li. My family’s in town, so I’d know these things. Most people probably do. Where are you from, Senior Brother? How come you don’t know something this basic?”

Zhao Wu had long noticed that this Senior Brother Li was different; he just hadn’t found the chance to ask until now.

“Heh. A very, very faraway place.” Li Huowang couldn’t be bothered to explain his origins. It would take too much effort, and these people probably wouldn’t understand anyway.

Seeing that Li Huowang wasn’t going to answer, Zhao Wu didn’t press further and kept talking. “We’re lucky, actually. No matter which class you’re from, the Emperor still lets you take the imperial exams. It might not lead anywhere, but at least there’s hope. I’ve heard that in other places, people from the lower three classes aren’t even allowed to take the exams. Generation after generation, they can never climb out. An actor has to stay an actor for life.”

“So that’s how it is.” Li Huowang gained a new understanding of this world.

“What about someone like me?” he asked again. “A Daoist. What’s my standing here?”

“Daoists are one of the Three Teachings. They’re not in the Nine Classes. Most people still respect a Daoist when they meet one. Even if they don’t respect you, they’ll keep their distance. After all—who can really explain matters of spirits and ghosts?”

Hearing this, Li Huowang abandoned the thought of taking off his Daoist robe. If he was going to travel the land from now on, wearing this robe would be far more convenient than plain clothes.

“Right, Zhao Wu. What about someone like Danyangzi? His status must be pretty high, huh?” Li Huowang cut straight to the key question.

“To be honest, Senior Brother Li, I don’t know. Before he captured me, I never knew anyone in this world could be that powerful. I thought those were just stories the storytellers made up.”

“Is that so…” Li Huowang fell into thought. It seemed that information was scarce in these parts. Logically, there should be quite a few people as strong as Danyangzi, yet even a local like Zhao Wu didn’t know about them. Then again, he figured, someone must exist who could keep people like Danyangzi in check—otherwise Danyangzi wouldn’t have had to hide in the deep mountains to practice his immortality in secret.

“Little Daoist! Little Daoist! Look, the city gate! We’re here!” Hearing Lü Zhuangyuan’s shout, Li Huowang looked up.

Ahead, at the end of the road they’d traveled for so many days, stood a low city wall covered in moss. Beyond that wall was their destination: Jianye Town.

The Lü family troupe passed through the gate without trouble. But Li Huowang’s group wasn’t so lucky. Their appearance was far too unusual. Before they’d been inside for even a moment, the town constable came looking for trouble with his men.

“Clang!” The constable raised his blade, eyeing Li Huowang with extreme wariness. “Stop right there! What’s this?! What’s this?!”

“Constable Yan, it’s me. These are all people I know—they mean no harm. They’re escorting me home,” Zhao Wu called out from the donkey cart.

Seeing Zhao Wu’s face, the constable’s hostility immediately dropped. He sheathed his blade. “Oh, it’s Zhao the Fifth. Where have you been all this time? Tell your friends here to behave themselves. Buy some veiled bamboo hats to cover up—don’t go scaring the neighbors.”

“Thank you, Constable Yan. Is my family doing well?”

“Well, of course. Oh, right—your second sister got married. A good family. Go home and see for yourself.”

To avoid further trouble, Li Huowang, guided by Zhao Wu, went to a hat vendor and bought several bamboo hats with black veils.

Even with the veils, the former human ingredients still looked conspicuous, but at least they wouldn’t frighten people anymore.

After arranging the next departure time with Lü Zhuangyuan, Li Huowang said to Zhao Wu, “Where’s your home? Let’s go there first.”

Seeing everything around him so familiar, Zhao Wu’s emotions grew stirred. He wasn’t wearing a hat—everyone in town knew him.

Zhao Wu, his limbs weak, pushed himself off the donkey cart and jumped down. Gouwa, standing nearby, instinctively reached out to help, but Li Huowang stopped him. Instead, Li Huowang pulled out the longsword from behind his back and handed it to Zhao Wu.

Then he reached into his chest and retrieved the stack of suicide notes, starting to sort through them.

Zhao Wu, steadying himself on the longsword with both hands, stumbled toward his home.

Jianye Town looked lively enough—people coming and going in the streets—but it wasn’t large. Zhao Wu soon found his home.

It was a small rice shop. Seeing his family busy inside, Zhao Wu’s eyes filled with hot tears. “Father! I’m back!”

Zhao Wu’s trembling shout made everyone in the shop look up.

“Fifth Brother!” A sturdy young man carrying rice on his bare shoulder threw his sack to the ground and rushed out excitedly, wrapping Zhao Wu in a tight embrace.

Then a little girl with her hair tied in ox-horn braids came running out too, circling Zhao Wu excitedly.

While Zhao Wu was lost in the moment of reunion, Li Huowang, watching coldly from the side, noticed something wrong.

Aside from the two who had rushed out, the expressions of everyone else inside the shop were strangely flat. That didn’t look like a normal family’s reaction.

“Senior Brother Li…?” Bai Lingmiao, sensitive to the shift in atmosphere, gently tugged at the hem of his robe.

Li Huowang patted the back of her hand and said nothing.