"Of course I can read it!" Number One Grandfather sniffed his disdain. "Why are you insulting my literacy?"
"I'm not," Wen said. "I only asked because I can't read it myself."
"Wretch! Why didn't you pay more attention to your lessons?"
"With all due respect, oh venerable one," said Fengzi, "shut up." Number One Grandfather sputtered and raised his hand to strike her. Then he saw Wen's expression, and his hand stayed put, waving impotently. "He can't read it," Fengzi said, "because it's hell-writing. I can't read it either. And you can, because you're dead. As you have pointed out, numerous times, to us."
"To me," said Wen, "it looks like the sort of writing I see in dreams; it blurs and runs when I try to concentrate on it."
"Oh," said Number One Grandfather. "I suppose I owe you an apology, then." From the expression on his face, it would be some time before that particular debt was paid.
"Don't worry about it," Wen said. "I owe you more. I just wanted to be certain the two pages said what the magistrate claimed they said." When Number One Grandfather confirmed their accuracy, Wen said, "Thank you. Now I'm going to ask you for one more favor. I want you to write the memorandum that Yin Fengzi is about to dictate to you." He turned to her. "This is why I made such a fuss about the second page. That, Grandfather, is where you'll write."
"What are you talking about?" Fengzi asked. "What am I going to dictate, and why me?"
"I got tired," Wen said, "of being the one following everyone else's lead. I just decided, watching the magistrate in there, that a campaign against hell wasn't all that different from a campaign against any earthly opponent. So I'm thinking ahead."
"About what?"
"About how we're going to get my father out of here, once we find him. Yin Fengzi, I want you to dictate a memorandum in the style your father might use when dealing with an underling. And I want it to appear to say one thing, while meaning another entirely."
Fengzi smiled. "Oh, I see! The sort of instruction that a functionary in hell might think was going to consign your father to a specific punishment but which actually sets from free from his curse? Is that the sort of thing you have in mind?"
"Yes," said Wen. "But don't write it specifically for a functionary of hell."
"But you said," said one of the grandfathers, "that we weren't going to have to face the judges anymore!"
"And that's what I meant," said Wen.
"How can we search hell without the judges knowing about it?" asked Grandfather Chun.
"We won't be searching hell," said Wen. "Not until someone or something points us back here."
"But —"
"You yourself said it, Grandfather Chun. Father appears to have vanished from hell entirely." Wen smiled when Fengzi's eyes widened.
"We're taking our search to heaven."
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