A Prophet - Chapter 3 (Part 1)
Chapter 1 - The Destined End of "Immortal Hands"
Walking this mortal path, one must always take steps. Just like when I joined the faction—whether right or wrong, I only truly knew after I had walked that road. I knew Grandfather had been racking his brains lately over the fate of the faction, and just as I wanted to say a few words to help share his burden, a flurry of urgent knocks sounded from outside. Before long, the housekeeper led someone running inside. As soon as the man stepped through the threshold, he cried out, "Grandfather, something's happened! Something's gone wrong!" Taking a look, I saw it was a low-ranking errand boy under the Second Boss, a fellow nicknamed "Thief Cat." Grandfather was deeply displeased by his panicked demeanor, his face sinking as he snapped, "Don't panic! Tell me slowly!" Gasping for breath, Thief Cat blurted, "Grandfather, go take a look quickly! The Second Boss and the Seventh Boss are fighting!"
My heart skipped a beat. This isn't right, I thought. The Seventh Boss was recommended by the Second Boss himself. How could he dare rebel not long after taking his seat? Grandfather stood up and said, "Let's go and see." Soon, we followed Grandfather to the Second Boss's residence. The courtyard was brightly lit, and the other brothers had already arrived, making a chaotic racket. Looking over, I saw "Immortal Hands" tied to the elm tree in the middle of the yard. He was struggling like a madman, his eyes bloodshot and bulging as if they were about to pop out of his skull. Two rays of cold light shot from his eye sockets, sweeping over the crowd with terror and fury. A rag was stuffed in his mouth, but muffled roars could still be heard. He was gnawing viciously on the cloth, and saliva drooped from the corners of his mouth, dripping onto the ground in puddles. The Second Boss stood in the yard brandishing a club. I quietly slipped over and asked, "Second Boss, what is going on here?" The Second Boss fumed, "Playing the fool, that bastard! Was he trying to slice me up?" He then marched up to "Immortal Hands," raised his club, and bellowed, "Speak! Who made you do this?" At this, "Immortal Hands" became even more frenzied, emitting guttural noises and fighting so desperately that the large tree shook along with him. The Second Boss casually dealt him a blow with the club, shouting, "I'll let you pretend! I'll let you keep pretending!"
"Hold your fire!" Hearing Grandfather's voice, the Second Boss immediately checked himself. After watching for a moment, Grandfather told the Second Boss, "Come here." The two men walked over to a corner. Grandfather asked the Second Boss, "Has Number Seven been bitten by a dog recently?" Not understanding what Grandfather was driving at, the Second Boss asked, "A dog?" Grandfather replied, "It's obviously rabies! What are you hitting him with a club for?" The Second Boss suddenly saw the light, slapping his forehead as he exclaimed, "Oh! No wonder this kid was acting like a lunatic, daring to hit even me... But he hasn't been bitten by a dog. Slaughtering dogs and butchering pigs is handled entirely by the First Boss's side; we never touch those things." What the Second Boss said was actually the truth. The bosses all had their own assigned divisions of labor. When the faction ran "flying paper" swindles, it often required pig blood, chicken blood, dog blood, and pig bladders; these items were all procured by the First Boss. Naturally, when the faction had external conflicts requiring assassination or internal disciplinary executions, he was the one who carried them out. I had no idea how many animal and human lives stained those hands of his. I had witnessed his entire pig-slaughtering process with my own eyes, to the point where I lost all appetite for pork for a long time afterward—just thinking about that scene made me want to retch. First, he would have a few errand boys pin the pig down. During the pinning, some grabbed the pig's ears while others grabbed its tail, and the pig would squeal to high heaven. Once it was pinned, they tied it up with thick hemp rope, binding the front trotters together and the rear trotters together, all while the pig kept shrieking. At that point, the First Boss would pick up a heavy wooden pole, raise it high, and smash it forcefully against the pig's head. Generally, after three strikes, the pig's cries would grow much fainter. Once the pig was knocked out, several men carried it onto a millstone and placed a large basin beneath its neck. The First Boss picked up a sharpened dagger and drove it straight into the pig's neck—this was called bleeding. With a single slash, a large gash opened on the pig's neck, and steaming pig's blood gushed out in torrents, filling the large basin below. A grown sow could usually yield more than half a basin of blood. As the blood drained, the pig's grunts grew fainter and fainter until it finally stopped making any noise at all. Once the blood was fully drained, they began gutting it. The First Boss would flip the pig onto its back and slice open its belly from top to bottom in one swift stroke. At that moment, a foul, reeking wave of heat would rush out, sickening everyone with nausea.
Once sliced open, they began scooping out the internal organs, taking special care to preserve the bladder, which would be useful later for the "flying paper" scams. When I first witnessed this spectacle, my legs turned to jelly. Seeing everyone else watching with high spirits, I felt as though they had all grown numb to it. The Third Boss even used the scene as material for a folk rhyme, which went: "What are the four great reds of life? The butcher's knife, the slaughter basin, a young maiden's panties, and evening glow." When I first heard it, it didn't register, but after the errand boys explained it, I finally understood: the butcher's knife and slaughter basin went without saying, as they were stained with blood; the evening glow could paint half the sky red; and as for the young maiden's panties, it wasn't until the errand boys mentioned a woman's menstrual period that the penny finally dropped. Truly, swindlers aren't terrifying; what's terrifying is when swindlers are educated! I asked the other errand boys if the First Boss had been this ruthless since birth. They said yes, and he became even worse after his wife died. I asked how his wife had died, and the errand boys told me she was chewed to death by pigs.
As it turned out, a few years prior, the First Boss had married an A-bao woman from the faction. That woman also had a fierce countenance and was skilled in "flying paper" tricks. Because items like pig blood and pig bladders were in constant use, Grandfather had ordered a dozen pigs penned up in a remote courtyard to keep a supply on hand. One time, the First Boss's wife took an errand boy there to pick out a pig when she suddenly suffered an epileptic seizure, plunging headfirst into the pigsty. As she lay there convulsing and unable to move, all dozen pigs rushed forward together, intent on tearing her apart. The errand boy hurriedly tried to beat them off with a stick, but it was completely useless. Those pigs acted like they had lost their minds, clamping down and refusing to let go, chewing her to pieces in no time at all. The errand boy fled back in a panic, soiling his pants as he went to report the news. By the time people rushed over, only a few bones remained. Although pigs are omnivorous animals, instances of pigs eating humans were extremely rare. In private, the errand boys all whispered that this was karmic retribution, because the First Boss and his wife always partnered up to run scams and constantly slaughtered pigs, accumulating a heavy murderous aura. The pigs sensed it and thus attacked her. In a fit of rage, the First Boss slaughtered every single one of those dozen pigs. Ever since then, he developed a bloodthirsty addiction, and if he didn't kill something every few days, he would become deeply unsettled. People who habitually kill like this might genuinely carry a murderous aura; once, when we were out on business together, we encountered a large snake on a mountain path. No matter how everyone tried to chase it away, it wouldn't budge. Later, when the First Boss hurried up from the rear—before he even arrived—the snake zipped off in a flash.
When the First Boss slaughtered dogs, ordinary people didn't dare be present because dogs were far more agile than pigs. They had to be secured with a chain first, after which the First Boss would walk over brandishing a club. At that moment, the dog would bark like a madman, putting up a desperate defense. Sometimes dogs managed to bite the First Boss, but they were ultimately beaten down by him nonetheless. Actually, there was another method for killing dogs: slipping a looped restraint over them and strangling them with a rope. But the First Boss felt that lacked punch; he loved the smell of blood, and only when he smashed a dog's head until its brains splattered everywhere would he be satisfied. As for slaughtering chickens, it went without saying: usually, a single stroke severed the chicken's head, and the headless chicken could still flap its body and run a dozen meters away before bleeding profusely and twitching to a halt after a few flutters. After witnessing these bloody spectacles, I frequently had nightmares at night. There is a line in the Sutra of Causes and Effects Across Three Lifetimes: "Why are those of short life in this present existence? In past lives, they slaughtered countless living spirits." All sentient beings in the six realms possess spirit; however terrified a human is when facing death, animals feel that exact same terror. The look in their eyes right before death was something I shuddered to even think about. In my eyes, meat was simply the corpse of an animal, and there was nothing left there to eat. Following the founding of New China, the First Boss was sentenced to death. In truth, even if the government hadn't sentenced him to execution, Heaven had already passed its own sentence upon him. In 1950, he suddenly contracted a bizarre affliction—a strange skin disease where his entire body cracked, his skin peeling off in flakes like fish scales. It itched intensely, and the moment he scratched it, the skin broke, oozing a foul, reeking yellow fluid. As time passed, his entire body ulcerated. Grandfather invited the best local physicians for him, but they still couldn't cure it.
Usually, Grandfather always cautioned the First Boss to be careful not to get bitten by dogs when slaughtering them. That was why, upon seeing the state "Immortal Hands" was in today, Grandfather immediately thought of rabies. Grandfather said coldly, "When encountering troubles, stay calm. Don't resort to beating and killing at every turn, especially not against your own brothers." The Second Boss put on a smiling face and said, "I thought he was just playing the fool!" Grandfather remarked, "I think you're so used to playing the fool yourself that you interpret everything in that direction! Think carefully—has Number Seven had any accidents lately?" After pondering for a long time, the Second Boss said, "Accidents? Nothing out of the ordinary... Oh!" The Second Boss let out a loud exclamation, recalling something. "Not long ago, when we were running the 'bat scam,' he got bitten by a bat!"
Everyone knew about this bat scam; it was Grandfather's proudest masterpiece of late. It involved two rival factions fighting each other through sorcery, with us acting in the middle to run a double-sided trap.