Love in Red Dust - Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Master was good to her, and she served him with all her heart, but she had to keep her secret well-hidden. Who had ever heard of a girl studying to be an executioner? If word got out, would she ever be able to marry? She had been left with no other choice. She had tried learning masonry and carpentry, starting early and putting in the effort, but in the end, being a girl, how could she really manage? It was only when the wet nurse's husband mentioned it in passing that she learned Wu Changgeng had a great trade that he could practice until he was sixty. Beheading, he said, was just like cutting vegetables—no effort at all. After autumn every year, once the Nine Ministers—from the Dali Temple, the Censorate, and the Ministry of Justice—finished their joint reviews, a batch of prisoners would be executed before the winter solstice. That was the only busy time, with ten or even dozens of people a day. Usually, it was just minor work; the magistrate rarely called out, "Take him away and execute him on the spot." As apprentices, they received a small stipend and did odd jobs whenever they were idle.

It was a good job, anyway, though the first few times she saw blood, she felt faint. A person’s body is like a water-filled skin bag; once the seal is broken, the water inside splashes out all at once and can never be gathered up again. She had never seen so much blood before. In the countryside, when they slaughtered a pig, they caught it in a basin, but when killing a human, there was no basin—one slash, and the blood would spray five paces away. Back then, her senior apprentice-brother mocked her, saying she was small but had a heavy bottom because she refused to budge when he tried to pull her away, when in reality, she had just been paralyzed with terror.

Her senior brother, whose formal name was Xia Zhi, was a daft kid who tended to get distracted and jumped from one topic to another when he spoke. He had already been an apprentice for two years when she arrived. Although he was somewhat unreliable, he was very sincere to his own people. All these years, he had looked after her in every way. When she first arrived, she lived in the same room as him, but as she grew older, she asked Master twice to let her move into a small, clutter-filled room that they cleaned out, claiming that his tooth-grinding at night kept her awake. Only then did she get some peace and quiet.

But a door couldn't stop Xia Zhi. He still came and went as he pleased. Just like today—Master was away, so she had bolted the door to take a nap. She was deep in a dream when he came in and woke her up.

The sky was growing dark, and she looked outside. "Master hasn't returned yet?"

Xia Zhi let out a grunt. "He’s paying the wedding gift for the jailer’s daughter; it would be a loss not to eat his fill there. Are you hungry? Dinner is ready; get up and eat!"

She shook her head. "I can't eat. Leave it for now."

Xia Zhi used the handle of a palm-leaf fan to scratch the back of his neck, leaning in to probe, "Why do I always hear you calling for 'Madam' in your dreams? If you were older and thinking of a wife, that would be one thing, but to be dwelling on such distant matters at twelve or thirteen—isn't that a bit early?"

She ignored him and went outside to draw water from the well to wash her face. The bucket hit something when it went down; by the moonlight, she saw a human head floating on the surface and was given a fright. Looking closer, it was actually a melon kept cool in the water; its long vine trailing behind looked like a braid.

She sighed and turned the windlass. The well water was cool in summer, and the shock of the towel against her face cleared her mind.

"The case of Anba Lingwu is quite massive," she said, sniffing. "It involves so many people that as they investigate layer by layer, half of the Great Ying’s officialdom has been emptied out."

"Indeed." Xia Zhi picked his teeth with a bamboo splinter while sitting in a rattan chair. "Even the retired Emperor is afraid. There’s no waiting until after autumn; they want it done quickly. The more you bite, the more people you implicate. If they investigate to the very end, how will the court’s business continue? They’ll just pick a few ringleaders and wrap up the case. The old saying goes, 'Water too clear has no fish,' and His Majesty understands that better than we do."

Having experienced the ruin of her family in her youth and then entering this profession, she had grown accustomed to the rise and fall of the imperial court and the ebb and flow of official life. She seemed indifferent to everything now as she turned her head to ask, "How many are to be punished tomorrow?"

Xia Zhi held up three fingers. "Tomorrow is my first time out on the 'Red Duty,' and my heart..." He shook his head. "Master said this is to be a major execution. Among those overseeing it are grand secretaries and princes. If the task is handled well, I’ll have made my mark; if not, I’ll have shamed even Master."

"Don't you always say you’re the best after heaven itself? What are you afraid of?" Dingyi patted his shoulder. "Master has nothing but praise for you. Just show some resolve, make a name for yourself with one clean cut, and you’ll be set in this circle. Don't waste such a good opportunity. By the time I’m twenty, who knows if I’ll have such luck! But there is one thing you must remember: how did 'Crooked Blade Liu' get his nickname? He closed his eyes during the swing and sliced off half a man’s skull, and the prisoner's family almost ate him alive. You must keep your eyes open. If you ruin Master’s reputation, I’ll be the first to not forgive you."

Xia Zhi was still dazed when he heard this, and he gave the back of her head a light tap. "You little brat, you’ve got some nerve, lecturing your senior brother! Just wait until I get my hands on you." The two of them ran in circles chasing each other around the courtyard—a scene that played out every single day.

The next morning, they rose early, bathed, and burned incense to prepare. Master stood before the door with a formidable stance, his large frame blocking half the sunlight, looking for all the world like one of the Heavenly Kings in a temple. Wu Changgeng was over forty and lived entirely alone. Because he had inadvertently "cursed" two wives to their deaths, he had no desire for such matters anymore. In his own words, "For those of us in this trade, having a family is just bringing disaster upon others. With a hundred or so lives on my conscience, I have no sins in the world of the living, but the accounts are being kept in the underworld." He simply remained childless, taking on two apprentices who would handle his funeral arrangements when the time came.

Master had drunk a bit too much the night before and hadn't slept well. With puffy eyes, he instructed Xia Zhi, "Keep your heart upright and your hand steady. And let Little Tree get ready; keep a slice of old ginger in your mouth—don’t let it shake, even if the King of Heaven himself were standing there."

Xia Zhi answered with a loud, "Yes!" though he was nervous at heart, buzzing with a sort of morbid excitement early in the morning. Two other families lived in their large compound, also working as low-level officials for the Shuntian Prefecture. One of them, nicknamed "San Qingzi," had a wife who had become pregnant just after they were married. Xia Zhi loved to tease him, calling out whenever he stepped out: "San Qingzi, go back inside and have a kiss, suckle a bit, it’s time to move out!" No sooner had the words left his mouth than a basin of water was splashed out from the door, soaking his shoes completely.

Dingyi stood to the side with her bundle, mocking him, "Serves you right! Who told you to have such a loose tongue?"

Wu Changgeng, having a fiery temper, shouted into the house, "San Qingzi! Control your woman! Does she not understand the rules? If she doesn't, your master here will teach her!" Today was a duty day; being splashed with water right before leaving was a bad omen.

San Qingzi emerged, bowing and scraping, apologizing and begging Master Wu to calm his anger. Xia Zhi had been making trouble for more than a day or two, and everyone was used to it. Dingyi was impatient with their bickering and stepped out into the sun to wait. Diagonally across the street stood a century-old pagoda tree. It was July, and the branches were lush and full, with clusters of purple-red flower buds hanging down, casting a fragrant breeze across the area.

This neighborhood was inhabited by the lowest of the low—night-soil collectors, palanquin bearers, coal-briquette rollers... people from all walks of life. Dingyi took shelter under the tree, where someone was already waiting: an elderly woman who sold fritters and peanuts at the East Peak Temple, accompanied by her grandson. A small basin sat before them. She didn't know what they were doing, but the old woman smiled when she saw her. "Little Tree, out on duty again today?"

They were all neighbors and familiar with one another, so she answered with a smile. She leaned over to look and saw a dozen tadpoles swimming in the basin, with three more in a bowl. The old woman held the bowl to the child’s mouth, but the child was unwilling. She coaxed him with a mix of truth and lies, "These are good things. Do you know why the Emperor can be the Emperor? Because he dares to eat these! The Emperor said that whoever eats them will be a general, command troops, and be rewarded with a great saber. That saber is so beautiful, a hundred times better than your slingshot..."

Dingyi’s throat tightened. The old folks always had clever tricks. It was said that eating tadpoles prevented sores, though she didn't know if there was any truth to it. In any case, it had been passed down for generations; almost every child in the village had swallowed one or two raw when they were young.

The child was persuaded and asked in a small, childish voice, "Really? Will I be rewarded with a great saber?"

His grandmother nodded. "If the Emperor doesn't give you one, I will. Drink it, and we’ll go buy one right now."

The child took the bowl and drank. Since the things were alive, they struggled in his mouth, but the child didn't understand and naturally chewed twice. Dingyi was startled, feeling the morning’s porridge churning in her throat; she almost threw up. She quickly turned her head away, and seeing Master and Xia Zhi coming out, she hurried to meet them.

The Shuntian Prefecture was north of the Drum Tower East Street. It was a good distance past the Tongfu Alley—even by carriage, it would take two quarter-hours. Although the prisoner to be executed today had already been tried and the court had approved the verdict, the formalities were still necessary before the execution.

Dingyi followed the bailiffs into the prison to check the roster. Once-powerful ministers were now prisoners, their glory and shame reversed in an instant. Encountering such prisoners always reminded her of her father. Looking at the tattered figures inside, a thousand emotions welled up in her heart.

The bailiffs now spoke with more courtesy. They opened the cell door and bowed slightly. "Master An, the case is concluded today. Congratulations."

Anba Lingwu had been the River Governor of Jiangnan, a second-rank official responsible for the dredging and flood prevention of the Jiangsu riverways. Building rivers and roads was the most lucrative business. He had kept messy accounts and skimmed off the top, and as a result, the newly repaired river flooded during the summer, causing severe disaster to the people on both banks. The court investigated, and the amount he had embezzled was significant. It wasn't just that he had embezzled; he had actually "conspired" with others. Nothing short of execution would appease the Emperor's immense fury, so there was no waiting until autumn. They couldn't wait; they needed him dead and gone.

After all, he was a man who had seen the world and did not act like a coward, crying and wailing. Anba Lingwu walked out of the cell, shackles on his hands and feet, standing at the door waiting for the handover. Dingyi held the register and asked, "What is your name?"

He reported his name with a dull, vacant expression. Once confirmed, the bailiffs outside didn't delay; they came forward to take him, dragging him out of the ward.

In the main hall, the Shuntian Prefecture had to question him one more time. He didn't answer, so the escorting bailiffs answered for him. The hall was busy finalizing the documents, while the executioners waited under the eaves. Dingyi glanced at Xia Zhi. There were three prisoners in the hall, and one of them was assigned to him. He stole a few glances at the prisoner, and the more he looked, the more timid he became; his legs were trembling beneath his trouser legs.

"Senior brother, are you afraid?" She turned her eyes to the bright, glaring sky outside the eaves and shook her head. "It’s too late to be afraid now. Just do it well. Don't make them suffer; think of it as doing a good deed."

Xia Zhi steadied his mind, looking as if he had seen through the vanity of the world. "Once you’ve chosen this path, there’s no turning back. Little Tree, if you find a way before you're twenty, change your profession. This work... it’s not meant for humans."

If there were any other way, no one would do this. She was anxious to leave Sanhe County; as she grew older and had no one to protect her, her wet nurse’s brother had a fool of a son—if her secret was ever revealed, she would have no choice but to be a wife to an idiot.

There was a set rule under her master: one must "open the blade" and leave the nest by the age of twenty. She was seventeen this year, so she had three more years to muddle through. Doing odd jobs was fine, but she definitely couldn't inherit the mantle and perform executions on the field. Xia Zhi was right; it was time to plan a way out, but where was that way? She hadn't worn a dress since she was six, she knew nothing of women's needlework, and she didn't even dare to harbor thoughts of marrying a man and living a proper life.

What honest man would want to marry an executioner?

Thinking to herself, she could only manage a wry smile. Just then, the commotion inside intensified; the prisoner was being bound, ready for the "Red Duty." Three cannon shots rang out. The prisoner was led out from the White Tiger Gate, where an Eight Immortals table was placed outside. On it was the "Farewell Meal" prepared by the yamen: a package of braised pork knuckle and a pound of flatbread, inviting him to eat and drink so he would have the strength for the journey.

Who could eat when they were about to die? It didn't matter if he couldn't; the jailer would just rub the pork knuckle against his mouth to signify he had eaten. The chopsticks were snapped and tossed aside, and he was loaded onto the prisoner cart heading for the Caishikou market.

Caishikou was outside the Xuanwumen Gate. The executioner’s "Ghost Head Blade" was kept at the gate tower and had to be requested for use. Those who hadn't taken apprentices would kowtow themselves, while those who had apprentices would let them do the labor. Dingyi and Xia Zhi went up the tower together, leaning against the city wall and looking down. "Didn't they say a Prince was overseeing the execution? How come I don't see any?"

Xia Zhi lit the incense and offerings. "Who would want to stare eye-to-eye with a death row prisoner? It’s enough for them to watch from afar on the podium when the head falls. They’re not shop clerks at the He Nian Tang—why get close and invite bad luck? Princes are refined people. They won’t enter the Shuntian Prefecture office; they’ll go straight to the execution ground and sit under a large canopy..." He stopped and pointed into the distance. "Look, they’re coming!"

Dingyi looked in that direction. A massive procession was approaching from afar. Because the path had been cleared, the onlookers were blocked on both sides, leaving the road in the middle open, which made the procession appear even more arrogant. Seeing these imperial relatives reminded her of Prince Zhuang, who had arrested her father—he was a prince of the older generation and seemed to have some sense of humanity. But these present ones were all nephews of the retired Emperor, peers to the current one, each one arrogant and spoiled; it seemed unlikely they would be raised with any good character.

She requested the heavy blade and held it in her arms, feeling a whirlpool of emotions deep inside. Ever since the change of dynasties, the Wen family had served the court, and in the end, their rise and fall had both come because of it. Looking back now, it was truly chilling and heartbreaking.