Chapter 87: Sin, Mercy

“All right, all right. We’ll do as you say. We leave for Chang’an tomorrow. Cry, cry all you want—you’ve all made me sick of hearing it.”

Cai Cong spoke with growing irritation. At this moment he was utterly at a loss, wishing only to flee. The hot blood in his veins, the zeal he had poured out so freely, might well have been nothing more than a tool in the emperor’s eyes.

When the two maidservants heard this, they were overjoyed at once. Their tears stopped in an instant, and they smiled on either side of him like blooming flowers. So long as Cai Cong was willing to go back, nothing else mattered. They were already tugging him along to pack his things, and as for Old Mister Qiu, who had fallen into a daze, the two willful girls simply shoved him out the door.

Looking at the old man shaking his head with a wry smile, Cai Cong could not help but sigh at the old saying that every creature has its bane. After supper and a bath, both attended by the two maidservants, he finally drifted into sleep. As for Li Shimin’s decree, he deliberately, or perhaps unconsciously, set it aside.

That night, the moon seemed veiled in a wash of blood. Across Shandong, the gentry who had been seized lived through the last scene of their lives.

With their mouths stuffed and their limbs bound, they were dragged to the deserted execution ground. Under the bright moonlight, rows of soldiers stood expressionless like stone carvings, silently wiping the blades in their hands while their eyes repeatedly measured the necks of the men before them.

“Mmmph... mmmph...”

The gaunt old man kneeling at the front struggled endlessly. In his lifetime he had known such splendor, yet now two rough soldiers had him pressed into the muddy ground. His magnificent brocade robes were caked in filth; there was not the slightest trace of dignity left.

When he saw the executioner’s blade rise, he could no longer bear it. He suddenly bent at the waist, broke free of the two soldiers, and sprawled onto the ground, crawling forward with great difficulty.

Xu Jie watched all this indifferently. If it had been any other scene, he would have gone to help a man of such age staggering in the mud. But for this old beast, he felt not the slightest pity.

A hundred and thirty-six households had had their fields seized. Fifteen had starved to death. The rest had sold sons and daughters in numbers too many to count. To point to any one of those crimes would be to point to blood and tears.

“Mmmph... mmmph...”

The old man crawled up to Xu Jie and knelt before him, knocking his head against the ground with great difficulty. Snot and tears smeared his face until there was no trace left of a gentleman’s bearing.

Xu Jie gave him a cold glance and made a downward slash with his sword hand. One of the executioners planted a foot on the old man’s back, pinning him into the mud, then swung his blade with all his strength. The head flew off at once, as if it had been launched by a spring.

“Kill them all!”

At Xu Jie’s command, all the executioners began butchering the bound prisoners like pigs and sheep. Men and women alike, old and young together, all were soft-skinned and delicate, clearly pampered children of wealthy households. Now they had all become ghosts beneath the blade.

Xu Jie felt no mercy at all. The lord had said it himself: in times of calamity, one must use harsh measures. Without harsh measures, there could be no deterrence for those with evil intentions. When he looked at the poor common folk and then at these great households that had inherited their books and rites, he could not help feeling a surge of contempt for them.

Blood flowed across the ground. Several ward chiefs, together with their strongmen, stood trembling as they watched. When all the corpses had been hung from bamboo poles, they shakily splashed water and scrubbed the ground with brushes. Some of them gagged and wept at the same time. The stench of blood hung so thickly in the air that it would not disperse.

A few elderly ward chiefs shook their heads and covered the bloodstains with earth. In their hearts they were already calculating where to find eminent monks or Daoist priests to perform rites for the dead. So many people had been killed; if no ceremonies were done, who knew how long no one would dare walk this street again.

At the thought of the money such rites would cost, these ward chiefs ached in the teeth with heartache. All the people who died tonight were wealthy and powerful. In years past, they could still turn to those people to pay for such things. This time, who were they supposed to ask?

The next morning, the townspeople awoke in horror to find stiff corpses filling the execution ground. Their blood had been drained, and they looked like slabs of butchered pork. Children who had just stepped out of their homes were hurriedly dragged back inside by their parents.

They could not allow the children to offend the dead. If some wronged spirit with eyes unclosed were to cling to a child, that would be disastrous.

Those trembling officials woke after a night’s sleep and discovered that the soldiers who had seemed ready to kill anyone they saw were gone without a trace, as if the whole thing had been a dream. When they learned that bodies were hanging in the market wards, their legs went weak with fear. No wonder the soldiers had vanished. Just how many people had been killed?

Early that morning, Cai Cong was hauled out of bed by the two maidservants. On ordinary days they would have wished for him to sleep a little longer, but today they dragged him up before dawn and stuffed him into the carriage. The two girls had taken the madam’s words as if they were imperial orders, and through coaxing and pleading they were determined to send Cai Cong back to Chang’an as quickly as possible.

Wei Zheng, his face dark as thunder, watched people moving in and out with boxes and bundles. Cai Cong’s return to Chang’an had made him so happy he had scarcely slept all night, and he also felt it only proper that Cai Cong entrust him with the task of reforming the officials and improving the waterways.

But three thousand armored troops were encamped outside the city, carrying military orders and ready at any moment to take over his post. What was that supposed to mean? Did they think he would slack off? He had devoted himself wholeheartedly to the people—what was Cai Cong doing, setting guards over him like this?

“Ah, Elder Wei, I’ll be heading back to Chang’an first. Everything here in Shandong will be in your care. The three thousand troops outside the city will accompany and protect you. If anything should happen, Xu Jie will lead the soldiers to handle it. Please govern Shandong with peace of mind!”

Cai Cong lifted the curtain and spoke politely.

Wei Zheng stood there with a black face and said nothing. This boy had a mind like a seven-parted jeweled lock; if anyone else had said such a thing, Wei Zheng would have smiled and thanked them warmly.

But Cai Cong spoke with hidden barbs. Superficially it sounded like good words, yet in truth it was a warning to Wei Zheng not to cut corners, because the three thousand troops were not there to idle away their pay.

“Heh heh... please rest assured, Your Excellency. I shall certainly devote myself with all my strength and dare not be even slightly negligent.”

Wei Zheng answered in measured, formal tones, speaking as though on official business and showing not the least gratitude for Cai Cong’s courtesy.

“Heh. In that case, I’ll be off. I leave all matters in Shandong to you. Xu Jie, listen carefully: keep a close watch on everything. If anything goes wrong, I authorize you to execute first and report afterward.”

Cai Cong gave two cold laughs and no longer called himself a mere junior. He referred to himself as the official and spoke even more loudly to Xu Jie. With that, he waved his hand, and the carriage rolled forward slowly.

Watching the carriage depart little by little, all of Zhengzhou let out a collective breath. So long as Cai Cong remained here, they felt as though a blade hung above their heads. If one day his mood soured and his grip on the rope loosened, that blade would come down and sever them head from body.

At the city gate, countless commoners had gathered, silent and still. Some held half bowls of rice, some carried eggs, some had torn off a piece of cloth, and some elderly folk had wrapped a handful of soil in cloth. Everyone was looking toward the gate. When several carriages approached, the crowd surged around them at once.

“What is this...”

Old Meng drew half his blade and spoke nervously, but after only four words he could go no further. Facing those sincere, earnest faces, he swallowed every other word back down.

“Fellow villagers... what is this...? Lord Marquis, come out and take a look!”

Old Meng shouted at the top of his lungs. Faced with those faces furrowed by time yet shining with gratitude, he had no idea what to do.

Cai Cong lifted the curtain and was moved instantly. Ignoring his wound, he jumped down at once, and Old Meng hurried to support him. Cai Cong brushed his hand aside and said with feeling, “Why have all of you come here?”

“Heaven has no eyes! Your Majesty, open your eyes and look! Lord Cai, such a fine official as you, stabbed for the sake of the people, and yet people in Chang’an are still slandering you before the throne. You’re going back despite your injuries to report in person, so everyone has come to see you off. We’ll write you a petition from all the people. When the emperor sees it, he’ll know you are a good official.”

An old man stepped forward, wailing. The affairs above were beyond the common people below; they knew nothing of them. In the lanes and marketplaces there had been rumors that many in Chang’an were denouncing Cai the Clear-Sky, and that the emperor had even sent someone to replace him and seize him for questioning and execution.

At this, the people could no longer sit still. Especially after word spread the night before that Cai the Clear-Sky would be leaving Zhengzhou for Chang’an today, they passed the news from mouth to mouth, and many came through the night from distant villages to the city gate just to see him off.

Cai Cong listened to the old man’s words, somewhat bewildered, yet deeply moved. He gripped the old man’s hand tightly. “Thank you, good sir. Thank you, fellow villagers. But I am not returning to Chang’an to suffer punishment. His Majesty is sending me back to recover from my wounds...”

“Don’t lie to us. Just look at the pain twisting your face. Fellow villagers, come over and sign your names and press your fingerprints!”

Before Cai Cong had finished speaking, the old man cut him off. Cai Cong had leaped from the carriage and tugged at his wound, and the pained expression on his face was taken by the old man as proof that his mind had been exposed. The old man shouted at the top of his voice.

The commoners said nothing more. They placed the things they had brought beside Cai Cong and followed the old man over. Before long, Cai Cong was surrounded by all kinds of offerings. Those coming in and out of the city, hearing that they were going to write a petition from all the people for Cai Cong, put down their work and went over to write their names.

A petition from all the people was not literally written by ten thousand citizens. It was mainly signed by representatives chosen by the people: elder villagers, ward heads, clan heads from the various villages, and the like. They wrote their names, pressed their fingerprints, and then clearly stated how many people they represented.

Tomorrow morning I have to get up at five to catch a car and go take my exam. Wish me luck! The second driving test is terrifying, even scarier than the executioner’s blade.

The End