Love in Red Dust - Chapter 3

Chapter 3

After descending the gate tower, she respectfully cradled the blade and followed closely behind her master. The yamen had many guards to handle the transport, so she shuffled forward, blending into the crowd. The weather was perfect, but the sun was so bright it was blinding. The binding strips constricting her chest made her feel hot, stifled, and unable to breathe. Fortunately, there were only three prisoners, so it wouldn't take long. They could endure the heat, but surely the grand secretaries and princes wouldn't be able to stand it for long!

She stood on her tiptoes to look. A canopy had been set up in front of the He Nian Tang medicine shop, and the shops lining the street had placed long tables in front of their doors, preparing wine, white rice, and steamed dishes to see the prisoners off. There might be no music on the road to the underworld, but there had to be wine and food. If a prisoner was willing to do the shop the honor of eating a bite, that family would have accumulated great virtue. The King of Hell would make a note of it in his ledger, and that family could post bright red couplets and hold a celebration even livelier than a wedding!

He Nian Tang was famous in the capital, and not just for its authentic medicinal soups. When commoners cursed each other, they would say, "Go to He Nian Tang and buy some medicine for knife wounds," which was far from a compliment. Opposite He Nian Tang was the Caishikou execution ground. It was said that sometimes in the middle of the night, someone would come to knock on their door to buy medicine. When asked what was wrong, the person would say their neck hurt, implying they were haunted by ghosts. After all, a severed head left a scar the size of a bowl; how could it not hurt? So, whenever there was an execution, the clerks at He Nian Tang would shake their abacuses at the door, making a clattering sound that was said to drive away ghosts and ward off evil.

As Dingyi’s group passed by, the rattling of the abacus beads made her head ache. She turned her face away as if that could avoid it. If she could just get past this section, it would be fine; in the dog days of summer, staying in the sun for too long could lead to heatstroke.

The prisoners were lined up from east to west, and the supervising officials had all taken their seats under the large canopy. She glanced toward the stage, but the sunlight dazzled her eyes, and shifting from brightness to shadow made it hard to see clearly. She counted five people, all wearing official robes and headgear. The one in the very center was a Prince. Princes held a rank beyond the standard hierarchy, and even the Mayor of Shuntian had to defer to them. However, just as the dragon has nine sons and each is different, these princes were not all the same. One was slick, whispering to the officials beside him, while another sat as steady as a mountain, stone-faced. Dingyi curled her lips slightly—men like that were either blind and heartless or cast from molten iron.

Just as she was pondering this, someone tugged at her sleeve. She turned to see a man dressed as a long-term attendant pushing a small bottle into her hand, winking as he whispered, "This is 'Crane Top Blood.' Keep your eyes peeled and feed it to Anba Lingwu when you get the chance."

"Crane Top Blood" was a unique medicine created by He Nian Tang, said to numb the entire body so the prisoner wouldn't feel the pain. Though it was a good medicine, it couldn't be used casually. Executioners had many taboos; one mistake, and bad luck would follow. She pitied the prisoners, but she couldn't break her master’s rules for their sake. She glanced at the execution ground and pushed his hand away. "My apologies. One must attend to the duties of one's own trade. I am only here to hold the blade; I don't concern myself with anything else."

The man hissed. Of all the people there, he was the idlest, and coming to her was an honor—she didn't know what was good for her!

"Do you know who ordered this medicine to be given? If you delay this task, you won't be able to bear the consequences!"

She laughed upon hearing this. "If it’s delayed, it’s a delay of your task. What does that have to do with me?"

The man was about to get aggressive when Wu Changgeng noticed and barked in a low voice, "What time do you think this is? Still gossiping!"

She quickly lowered her head and moved past, leaving the man to glare in frustration. Her master asked her what happened, and she mumbled a vague excuse. But deep down, she felt uneasy; she felt as though a gaze was following her, coming from the supervising platform under the canopy. She started to feel a lingering fear. Could it be that the "Crane Top Blood" wasn't a request from the prisoner's family? Could Anba Lingwu have had private connections with some high official, and they were exchanging favors behind the scenes?

She didn't dare to think about it; the more she thought, the more anxious she became. The horn in the southwest corner let out a low, mournful wail, and the judicial secretary raised his voice to read the crimes. There was no time to dwell on other things; she hurriedly presented the Ghost Head Blade to her master.

With a stroke of vermilion ink, it was time to execute. As Xia Zhi passed by her, she quietly slipped a piece of ginger into his mouth—something Master had instructed beforehand, partly to bolster his courage and partly to clear his head. The executioner’s craft was divided into different levels of skill. A master of the trade could control their strength precisely, severing the neck without detaching the head, which made it easier for the family to collect the body and sew it back together. As for a novice like Xia Zhi, they didn't expect perfection; a steady, solid strike was the right approach. If the strength was off and the blade got stuck in the neck on the first strike, the shame would be immense.

The time of noon had arrived. The executioners were in position, and the red cloth covering the large blade had been removed. The two small red flowers on the back of the blade reflected the cold, sharp light of the steel—a strange contrast. The commoners, who had been climbing trees and pointing excitedly, fell silent. The timekeeper shouted, "The auspicious hour has arrived!" Another cannon fired. She imagined she heard the whistle of the blade cutting through the air, followed by the dull, thudding sound. The gushing blood could not be held back, and it quickly dyed the surrounding yellow earth red.

Separated from head and body, the sight was strange. The grieving family, who had been wailing just a moment ago, were struck dumb by the scene, seemingly forgetting to cry. But when they suddenly snapped back to reality, they burst into even more heart-wrenching howls. Dingyi could never bear to watch this. The dead were dead, but the living had to endure the pain and suffering. Having experienced it herself, it was like a nightmare she dared not look back on.

Once the yamen finished the executions, those without families to claim them would be taken west of the city to be buried, while those with families to collect the bodies were left alone. Xia Zhi had officially entered the trade. Though he couldn't compare to Master, at least the task had gone smoothly. However, he was not very sturdy; after leaving the field, his legs were trembling so hard he couldn't stand straight. He didn't dare look back, draping his arm over Dingyi’s shoulder, his teeth chattering.

Dingyi quickly took out her fan to cool him. "Senior brother, steady your mind. It’s all over now."

Xia Zhi leaned against her with a devastated face, feeling nauseated by the two drops of blood on his sleeve. He sobbed, "I hate my parents. Even if I were to starve to death, they shouldn't have sent me to learn this trade. What is this?" He held his hands out in front of her. "Look, see that? I’m stained with blood. Damn it, I’ll never have a good night's sleep again. Tonight, we have to stay together!"

She frowned and swatted his hand away. "Can't you show some backbone? Being so womanish and whining! You’ve watched Master do this for seven or eight years; why are you such a coward when it’s your turn?"

"That’s different, it’s different..."

She gave him a shove. "Go back, wash up, and rest. From now on, you’re an executioner, but I still have work to do. Coming to me with your complaints won't help!"

She was an apprentice, and she had her share of the cleanup to do. Under the scorching sun, she was far more exhausted than him as she shoveled soil over the blood.

Shaking him off as a nuisance, she sent him away. The big shots on the platform hadn't left yet, and the area was surrounded by guards. She and a few other laborers carried mulberry branches over to clean up, covering the blood with the sand and soil prepared earlier. Flies buzzed in swarms around her ears, and the ground was burning hot, the waves of heat mixed with the stench of blood rushing into her nose. The smell was truly unbearable.

Just as she was trying to hold it together, a guard in uniform approached and called out, "You! Drop what you're doing. The Prince is calling for you. Come over and kowtow!"

Dingyi straightened up and looked around. Her master and senior brother had already returned to the yamen. She was the only one left with a few laborers. Being suddenly summoned by a Prince made her think she had triggered some disaster with the "Crane Top Blood" affair earlier. She felt a surge of fear, but since the order had been given, she couldn't refuse. She responded with a "Yes," lowered her head, dropped her hands, and trotted over to the supervising platform.

Caishikou wasn't a large place, and the platform blocked the road. Since the crowd was dispersing, several bamboo-silk sedan chairs were parked on either end. Dingyi didn't dare look up; she only heard the exchange of formal pleasantries, all in official, polite jargon.

She remained silent, waiting quietly to the side. The guard went to report, and soon returned, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her along. With her heart sinking, she stumbled along until she was dragged between the two sedan chairs. The guard shoved her roughly, making her stagger. "Wait here. The Prince has some questions."

She muttered, "I didn't do anything wrong. Wasn't I just doing my job properly? Questions? What kind of questions?"

Regardless, it looked like a grim situation. Anba Lingwu’s head had already been cut off, and the Prince was still being so persistent; he probably wasn't someone who was easily fooled.

She peered over the edge of the sedan chair toward the platform, where they were already at the stage of bowing and saying farewell. She recognized the Mayor of Shuntian, but unfortunately, he had gone in the other direction—a distant water cannot put out a nearby fire. She didn't know which Prince had summoned her, so she stole a glance. Two teams of guards were escorting a member of the royal family toward her. Her heart pounded violently; she had a premonition of imminent disaster. There was no time to think. A pair of black boots with gold trim entered her vision. She took a few quick steps forward and, without waiting to be spoken to, knelt and kowtowed. "Little Tree, the apprentice of the Mu family, pays her respects to the Prince."

The voice that drifted down from above was cold, enough to send a chill down one's spine even in the height of summer. "You are Wu Changgeng’s apprentice?" She answered in the affirmative. The Prince didn't tell her to rise; he fanned himself vigorously and sneered, "I thought you’d have three heads and six arms, but you’re just a half-grown boy who hasn't even fully sprouted yet! You’ve got some nerve, daring to disobey my orders?"

With these members of the imperial clan, reasoning didn't always work; acknowledging one's mistake honestly might be the better path. She kowtowed again. "I beg the Prince to see the truth. I didn't know that medicine came from your Highness. If someone had told me earlier, I would have certainly carried out your instructions, no matter what."

The guard who had delivered the order was displeased and retorted from the side, "You can't say that! You didn't even ask whose order it was before you flatly rejected the proposal. Now that you see things have gone wrong, you're trying to dump the blame on someone else. No way!"

"I didn't reject you; you didn't explain the situation clearly, so that can't be blamed on me." She finished and bowed toward the Prince again. "Your Highness, you are wise. I am just a low-level servant, someone who is of no account. I don't have the audacity to challenge you. If it were your direct order, forget a mouthful of Crane Top Blood; even if it were actual poison, I would have forced it down his throat... Please forgive my nonsense. You are merciful and couldn't bear to see Master An suffer. Even though we are in this trade, we aren't entirely devoid of human feelings. But, Highness, you don't know the many rules of the execution ground. Since the day I entered my master’s door, he has warned me. Crane Top Blood causes blood stasis, and everything stays trapped in the chest. We executioners value a clean execution. With one slash, bang—the blood sprays high into the air..." She tilted her head, thinking, desperately trying to save her own skin, not even knowing what she was saying. Her family had been ruined by the Yuwen family, so she had a natural fear of these "yellow-belt" royals.

She stopped, and there was no sound from above. The black boots didn't move. She thought if she was lucky, she might survive this; after all, her words were quite logical. She hadn't expected the guards under the Prince to be so unreasonable. One shouted, "The Prince was doing a favor for someone else! Because the task wasn't completed, it’s difficult for him to face them now. You’ve hurt the Prince’s face, do you understand? The Prince’s face is worth more than gold; peeling your skin off wouldn't be enough to repay it. You spoke a whole cartload of words, all based on the troubles of an executioner. Who the hell cares about your troubles!"

Dingyi couldn't help but shrink back. "Don't get agitated, let's talk this through... I saw that even though Master An committed a crime, he stood firm. He wasn't afraid at all on the execution ground. Even if you gave him the medicine, he might not have appreciated it. In fact, when a person reaches that point, life and death are put aside, and they don't feel the pain. Really."

"Really," indeed. This brat was truly unafraid of death! The Prince squeezed a few words through his teeth: "You speak with such certainty, but I don't believe you. You’ll have to die once to prove whether your words are true or not."

As soon as the words fell, several tiger-like guards lunged forward. In broad daylight, were they going to trample on a human life? Dingyi’s brain buzzed. She raised her eyes in shock—what a fine-looking Prince, yet he had a heart steeped in poisoned wine. To want her life over such a trivial matter confirmed that the Yuwen family bred beasts.

The Prince was furious. What are you looking at? Daring to look back when you're about to die? Among the lower classes, there were always stubborn rabble; even if she looked decent, a rebel was a rebel. Although the crime didn't warrant death, the dignity and laws of the imperial family could not be offended; offending a Prince was enough to be executed by slow slicing.

He scanned the people around him. "What are you waiting for? Drag her away! Notify Daxing County to come and collect the head. It is settled."

Dingyi let out an "Ah." Was she really going to meet her end today?

In the nick of time, someone stepped out from behind the sedan chair. Their voice was not as impatient as the Prince’s; the articulation was precise and the tempo slow, but every word was sharp. "It's such a hot day, Seventh Brother. Calm your anger. It's just a low-level servant; is it worth such a fit of rage?”