Chapter Four: The Whipping

Although Qi Jun was merely a scholar, he did not lose the dignity of a man of letters in the magistrate’s hall. When the magistrate’s order for twenty strokes fell to the ground and the bailiffs closed in, grinning cruelly, he still glared angrily at the magistrate, refusing to move.

“As the father and mother official of the people of Anqiang County, you protect robbers and oppress the common folk. You rule as a thief—how shameful! Bah!”

Only now did Qi Jun realize the hidden corruption at play, and the world seemed to spin. Grief and rage filled his heart. All his life, he had aspired to study hard, earn distinction, and bring benefit to the people. Yet, the blatant evil unfolding in the magistrate’s hall was beyond anything he’d ever imagined—it was as if a cold club had struck him awake.

“You… you… Wretched commoner, how dare you—” The magistrate was momentarily speechless, stunned that the frail, timid, pale-faced scholar would dare lay bare the truth so openly.

With a bang, the magistrate, enraged and humiliated, seized the teapot on his desk and hurled it beside Qi Jun. Shards of pottery stung his body and face, but Qi Jun stood as if numb, his reddened eyes glaring at the furious magistrate like a wild beast. Had looks been able to kill, the official would have been shredded to pieces by the venom in Qi Jun’s gaze. Even the bailiffs below were shaken by his sudden aura, and for a moment, none dared approach.

“A bunch of useless fools—what are you standing there for? Beat him! Add ten strokes! No—all of them at once!” The magistrate, snapping from that withering glare, flung out all the tokens on his desk and pointed trembling at the kneeling scholar.

“You dare defy this official! Beat this insolent wretch to death!” the magistrate screamed, nearly hysterical.

The bailiffs exchanged glances, then gripped their rods and stepped forward.

“Wait!” Just as they were about to force Qi Jun to the ground, a shout rang out from the hall.

Everyone froze—the bailiffs, the magistrate, all turned in confusion to look at the adviser who had spoken.

“What is the meaning of this…” the magistrate asked, suppressing his anger. He trusted his adviser greatly; since taking office, the man had offered many shrewd schemes and helped him amass considerable wealth.

The adviser stepped to the magistrate’s side and bowed. “My lord, this scholar has indeed offended the court and should be punished. Twenty strokes would be excessive—ten would be more than he could bear. If you order so many, you might beat him to death.”

“So what? What if I kill a witless peasant? In this yamen, no one has ever dared curse me to my face. I mean to use this penniless scholar’s life to make a show of power in Anqiang County,” the magistrate said with a sneer.

“Of course, my lord, you are right. But this is no ordinary scholar,” the adviser whispered, drawing closer. “I checked the household register—though he himself holds no rank, his grandfather was the very first successful candidate from our county, Qi Mingshan! His father is also a licentiate.”

The magistrate hesitated, stroking his plump chin. According to the laws of the Liang Dynasty, those who had passed the examinations were exempt from tax and corvée, and their crimes were not subject to severe punishment in the yamen.

Moreover, the descendants of the educated benefited from this privilege. Even though Qi Jun held no title, he could not be flogged to death in the yamen. Anqiang, though a remote border county, was still subject to the laws of Liang.

“It was my oversight; had you not told me, I wouldn’t have known his background,” the magistrate muttered, frowning at the scattered tokens, the waiting bailiffs, and the stubborn scholar. “Even so, by the laws of Liang, those who disturb the court and defy an official must be punished. And since the tokens have been cast, they cannot be withdrawn.”

“I cannot pardon him today! If all the county’s scholars followed this wretch’s example, how could I enforce the imperial will?”

“My lord,” the adviser said with an ingratiating smile, “why not commute the rod to the whip? For every token, let him suffer a lash. Even if his bones are broken, he will not die. If there is inquiry from above, the whip is much lighter than the rod.”

“Excellent! Truly, your counsel is wise!” The magistrate’s eyes gleamed. “Let it be as you say.”

“My lord’s benevolence is boundless!” The adviser, pleased, fluttered his fan. “Bind him to a post in the main street and execute the sentence there—let all the baseborn see what comes of defying your authority!”

The magistrate and his adviser exchanged a glance and smiled with even more satisfaction.

At noon, the usually bustling main street outside the yamen was now cleared, a crowd forming a ring around a small space. In the center stood the young scholar, bound to a post. The sun was so fierce he could not open his eyes; his parched lips felt as if insects gnawed at them. Even as memory replayed, the pain was as vivid as ever.

“Who is he? What did he do?”

“I know him—that’s the grandson of Scholar Qi, the eldest son of Licentiate Qi! Honest folk, every one.”

“Him? I heard both Licentiate Qi and his wife were killed by those from Panlong Mountain! Why is he bound here now?”

“I don’t know! But I heard—”

“Clang! Clang! Clang!” A bailiff struck a gong three times, and the murmuring crowd fell quiet.

“Silence! The magistrate is arriving!” the bailiff shouted. At his cry, the crowd shrank back, widening the open space, though whispers still lingered.

The magistrate, surrounded by bailiffs, emerged from the yamen gate. His men quickly cordoned off the area, separating the scholar from the commoners.

A bailiff brought a chair for the magistrate, who sat, his adviser at his side. The magistrate cleared his throat, and a bailiff hurriedly brought him a teapot. He took a few sips, then handed it to a servant.

“Good people!” the adviser announced, “This is your father and mother official, Magistrate Song! He loves the people as his own children. Recently, our county has suffered drought and famine; the magistrate worries night and day, unable to eat or sleep!”

The magistrate glanced at his adviser and gave a nod of approval.

“But someone dared slander his lordship and disrupt the yamen! Instead of studying hard to serve the state, this man spouted wild words and defied authority!” The adviser paused dramatically, pleased by the growing buzz among the crowd.

“How could it be? He’s always been so honest…”

“There must be some reason—surely…”

“Clang! Clang! Clang!” The bailiff struck the gong again.

The adviser prepared to continue, but was cut off with a wave by the magistrate.

The magistrate strode to the scholar, looked him over with contempt, and suddenly snatched a whip from a bailiff, lashing out fiercely.

With a loud crack, blood welled instantly from a fresh welt across Qi Jun’s chest.

He gritted his teeth, enduring the searing pain, his brow furrowed and jaw clenched. He refused to show fear or weakness before this corrupt official.

The magistrate tossed the whip to the ground, squinted, and patted Qi Jun’s pale, pain-twisted face, a cruel glint in his eyes. “So, you’re tough? Then I’ll see just how much you can take!”

He signaled for the bailiff to pick up the whip. “Beat him—beat him hard!”