Magistrate Cao raised his hands to his forehead, uttered an exclamation, and said, ‘You’re truly a decent, upright woman. Nine Dreams Cao salutes you!’ Bringing his legs together, he removed his hat and bowed low.
The poor woman was so flustered she could only gaze at Nine Dreams Cao through tear-filled eyes. Once she’d regained her senses, she fell to her knees and said over and over, ‘His honour, the upright magistrate! His Honour, the upright magistrate!’
Magistrate Cao placed his walking stick under her arm. ‘Up, get up.’
The countrywoman got to her feet.
‘I can tell you are a filial daughter by the way you came to market in shabby clothes and poor health to sell a hen for the sake of your mother-in-law. Nothing impresses the magistrate like filial piety. Take the money and look after your mother-in-law. Take the chicken as well. Clean it and make a nice soup for her.’
Money in one hand, chicken in the other, the woman walked away, murmuring her gratitude.
Meanwhile, the deceitful Wu the Third and the neighbour who had served as his witness stood under the blazing sun trembling with fright.
‘Wu the Third, you scoundrel,’ Nine Dreams Cao commanded, ‘drop your pants.’
Wu was too bashful to do as he was told.
‘You tried to cheat that good woman in broad daylight,’ Magistrate Cao rebuked him. ‘It’s pretty late for modesty, isn’t it? Do you know what shame is selling for these days? Drop ’em!’
Wu the Third dropped his pants.
Nine Dreams Cao took off one of his shoes and handed it to Little Yan. ‘Two hundred lashes. All cheeks. Ass and face!’
Holding Magistrate Cao’s thick-soled shoe in his hand, Little Yan kicked Wu the Third to the ground, took aim at his exposed backside, and started in, fifty on each side, until Wu was screaming for his parents and begging for mercy, his buttocks swelling up in plain sight of everyone. Then it was his face’s turn, again fifty on each side; that stopped his screams.
Magistrate Cao placed the tip of his walking stick on Wu the Third’s forehead and said, ‘Will you try something like that again, you old scoundrel?’
Wu the Third, whose cheeks were so puffy he could barely open his mouth, responded by pounding his head on the ground as though he were crushing garlic.
‘As for you,’ Nine Dreams Cao said, pointing to the man who’d served as witness, ‘an ass-kisser who’d make up a story like that is the scum of the earth. I’m not going to give you a taste of the bottom of my shoe, because your ass would only soil it. Since you prefer something sweet, I’ll let you lick the ass of your rich buddy. Little Yan, go buy a pot of honey.’
Little Yan moved towards the crowd, which parted to let him pass. The false witness fell to his knees and banged his head so hard on the ground that his skullcap fell off.
‘Get up! Get up! Get up!’ Nine Dreams Cao commanded. ‘I’m not going to have you beaten or punished. I’m going to treat you to some honey, so what are you pleading for?’
When Little Yan returned with the honey, Nine Dreams Cao pointed to Wu the Third. ‘Spread it on his ass!’
Little Yan rolled Wu over on his belly, picked up a stick, and spread the potful of honey over his swollen buttocks.
‘Start licking,’ Nine Dreams Cao ordered the false witness. ‘You like kissing ass, don’t you? Okay, start licking!’
The false witness kept kowtowing loudly. ‘Magistrate, your honour,’ he pleaded, ‘Magistrate, your honour, I promise I’ll never again…’
‘Get the shoe ready, Little Yan,’ Nine Dreams Cao said. ‘And really put some arm into it this time.’
‘Don’t hit me,’ the false witness screamed, ‘don’t hit me! I’ll lick it.’
He crawled up to Wu the Third, stuck out his tongue, and began lapping up the sticky, transparent threads of honey.
The looks on the hot, sweaty faces of observers can hardly be described.
Sometimes fast, sometimes slowly, the false witness licked on, stopping only to throw up, which turned Wu the Third’s buttocks into a mottled mess. Seeing that he’d accomplished’ his purpose, Nine Dreams Cao roared, ‘That’s enough, you scum!’
The man stopped licking, pulled his jacket up over his head, and lay on the ground, refusing to get up.
As Nine Dreams Cao and Little Yan turned to leave, Uncle Arhat jumped off his mule and shouted, ‘Upright Magistrate! I come to file a grievance -’
6
JUST AS GRANDMA was about to climb off her donkey, the village chief, Five Monkeys Shan, stopped her: ‘Young mistress, don’t get down. The county magistrate wants to see you.’
Grandma was taken to the inlet at the western edge of the village in the custody of two armed soldiers. Great-Granddad had such severe leg cramps he couldn’t walk, and it took the nudge of a rifle in his back to get him moving; he fell in behind the donkey, his knees knocking.
Grandma noticed a black colt tied to the willow tree at the inlet. It was beautifully liveried, its forehead decorated with a red silk tassel. A few yards away, a man sat behind a table with a tea service. At the time, Grandma didn’t know that he was the illustrious Magistrate Cao. Another man stood next to the table, the magistrate’s capable enforcer, Master Yan, or Yan Luogu. Rounded-up villagers stood in front of the table, crowded together as though huddling to keep warm. A squad of twenty soldiers fanned out behind them.
Uncle Arhat stood behind another table, soaked to the skin.
The bodies of Shan Tingxiu and his son were laid out beneath the willow, not far from the tethered colt. Already beginning to stink, they oozed a foul yellow liquid. Above the bodies, a flock of crows hopped around on the branches, making the canopy of foliage come alive.
This was Uncle Arhat’s chance to get, finally, a clear look at Grandma’s full, round face. Her almond-shaped eyes were large, her long neck was like alabaster, her lush hair was rolled up into a bun at the back of her head. Her donkey stopped in front of the table, Grandma sitting tall and straight on its back, the picture of grace. As he watched Magistrate Cao’s dark, solemn eyes sweep across my grandma’s face and breast, a thought flashed into Uncle Arhat’s mind. The old master and his son came to grief because of this woman. She must have taken a lover, who had set the fire to ‘lure the tiger out of the mountain’, then had killed father and son to clear the way for himself. When the radishes have been picked, the field is bare. Now she could carry on however she pleased.
But when he looked at Grandma, Uncle Arhat was immediately besieged with doubts. No matter how a murderer tries to mask it, the look of evil always shows through. This woman sitting on her donkey… like a beautiful statue carved from wax, gently swinging her dainty, pointed feet, her expression a mixture of solemnity, tranquillity, and grief – unlike a bodhisattva, yet surpassing a bodhisattva. Great-Granddad stood alongside the donkey in stark contrast: his age against her youth, his decrepitude against her freshness, all serving to accentuate her radiance.
‘Have that woman come forward to answer some questions,’ Magistrate Cao ordered.
Grandma didn’t stir. Village Chief Five Monkeys Shan shuffled up and shouted angrily, ‘Climb down from there! His honour the county magistrate has ordered you to dismount!’
Magistrate Cao raised his hand to call off Five Monkeys Shan, then rose and said genially, ‘You there, woman, dismount. I want to ask you some questions.’
Great-Granddad lifted Grandma down off the mule.
‘What is your name?’ Magistrate Cao asked her.
Grandma stood stiffly, her eyelids slightly lowered, and said nothing.
Great-Granddad answered for her in a quaking voice, ‘Your honour, the unworthy girl’s name is Dai Fenglian. We call her Little Nine. She was born on the ninth day of the sixth month -’