The headless corpse collapsed to the ground, twitching as blood spurted in jets. The severed head rolled down the steps, coming to a stop before a member of the crowd. A woman still kneeling on the ground stared blankly at the master’s head, let out a shrill cry, and fainted.
Some of the people surged outward in panic, while others pushed toward the altar, and the scene descended into chaos. Ban Qin was no less shaken than anyone else, and the attendants’ faces had gone pale with fright. Standing far back, they couldn’t push their way through even if they tried, and could only watch helplessly as Cheng Jiao-niang, still on the altar, was swallowed by the crowd.
“Miss, perhaps… perhaps we shouldn’t have killed him. This monk seemed to hold quite some authority…” one of the attendants whispered.
Cheng Jiao-niang cast him a glance – and smiled.
Smiled…
The attendant froze.
Not only was it rare for Miss to smile, but to smile here, at this moment, when the furious, clamoring masses looked ready to tear them limb from limb.
“You struck quickly. I like that,” Cheng Jiao-niang said.
“Huh?” The attendant froze, and in an instant his face flushed crimson.
But Cheng Jiao-niang paid him no further heed. She turned, facing the tide of people pressing in from all directions.
“Villains, villains!” The other monks’ eyes were bloodshot, their faces twisted with fury as though they longed to tear the young lady apart. Yet the ghastly corpse lying on the ground cowed them, held them back with a chill of fear. They gathered closer, but not one dared to rush forward.
Murder – she had committed murder! A single stroke, a head severed. Even a grown man would have blanched at such a sight. Yet this young lady’s expression did not change; instead, she remained calm, even with a trace of a smile.
What… what kind of creature was she?
“Demon! Demon!”
“Beat her to death!”
“Burn her!”
The crowd pointed and shouted in unison.
“You’re mistaken. I am not the demon – he is,” Cheng Jiao-niang declared. She faced the enraged masses without the slightest trace of fear; instead, she lifted her foot and strode up onto the high platform, kicking aside the meditation cushion and Dharma seat. “It was he who summoned the eclipse…”
Because of the uproar, her attendant had to raise his voice and cry out her words for all to hear. Those nearest caught it first, their faces struck with astonishment, then passed it on to those behind them, the message rippling outward wave after wave. The din of the scene only grew louder.
What?
They were saying Master Ningde was the demon?
That it was Master Ningde who had summoned the eclipse?
“Cease your nonsense!” The monks, eyes bloodshot, finally mustered their courage once a dozen of them had gathered, shouting as they rushed forward.
The attendant drew the short blade in his hand and stood guard before Cheng Jiao-niang. In the sunlight, the blade still gleamed with Master Ningde’s blood.
He could handle three or four men on his own, and from afar the other companions were already charging forward like madmen. If he could just buy a moment, the mistress should be safe.
“This false monk claimed only he could stop the eclipse,” Cheng Jiao-niang continued, “but in truth he could not. Had I not killed him, the eclipse would surely have appeared after midday!”
What?
The faces of the surrounding monks instantly turned ashen as they looked up at the young lady on the platform.
She’s lying…
The young lady turned her head slightly toward them, a faint, almost imperceptible smile tugging at her lips.
“But now that I have killed him, there will be no eclipse today. If you don’t believe me, then wait and see. No blessings, no incense, no chanting – the heavenly dog will disperse on its own.” As she spoke slowly, she raised her hand and pointed toward the sky.
Unbelievable!
The monks who had been ready to rush forward froze, their faces stricken with horror, as though they no longer knew what to say.
The attendant immediately shouted her words again and again, loudly carrying them across the crowd.
“…There is no need for you to shout for my death. I will not run. If the heavenly dog does not retreat today, if the sun is devoured, then I will cut off my own head as penance,” Cheng Jiao-niang declared. She lowered the hand that had been pointing skyward to her neck and drew a slicing motion across her throat.
The uproarious mob halted, their expressions turning to shock, doubt, and confusion. One after another, they repeated her words, until the message rippled through the entire assembly.
It’s over! It’s over!
With a thud, two monks nearby collapsed to the ground, sitting pale-faced as they stared at the young lady.
How could this be?
“Don’t listen to her nonsense!” a few monks finally came to their senses, their faces pale as they shouted, “The heavenly dog was driven off thanks to our master’s tireless prayers day and night…”
But before they could finish, Cheng Jiao-niang cut them off.
“If your master’s ceaseless prayers were already effective, then why bother summoning the masses here today to pray with you?” she asked.
Of course it was to bolster their authority – but that could hardly be said aloud. The monks’ faces turned ashen; they opened their mouths to speak but no words would come.
Her attendant raised his voice to repeat the question, making sure more people could hear it clearly.
“…Was it because your master alone could not manage it, so you needed the common folk to help?” Cheng Jiao-niang pressed on.
No… If they said no, then they still couldn’t explain why the people were gathered.
Yes… But if they admitted yes, then…
The monks lifted their eyes toward the young lady standing high above them. Unable to stop themselves, they swallowed hard, their mouths full of bitterness.
Seeing this scene, Master Han – who had finally managed to force his men through the crowd – stopped in his tracks.
“Doesn’t this count as that old bald donkey digging his own grave?” he muttered under his breath to the man beside him.
“But, Sir, she killed someone! Killed someone! Surely we can’t just ignore that?” a monk suddenly cried out, as if recalling something.
Yet the bailiffs who had surrounded them no longer looked at the monks with their usual deference. Instead, there was a hint of scornful laughter in their eyes.
Now you know killing must be punished? Back then, when you bald donkeys beat a man to death in the street, what did you say?
“Don’t be hasty – what’s the rush?” a few bailiffs chuckled. “This young lady has already made her bold claim. We ought to wait and see if it proves true. Otherwise, if we drag her off right now, the common folk won’t accept it. Once her lies are exposed, we’ll certainly punish her for murder as well.”
It was over. Completely over.
No matter what happened now, the monk who held the people’s trust had already been cut down. Even if public anger still boiled, it could no longer be stirred up so easily as when he was alive.
What was worse, that young lady had seized upon the spear the old monk himself had left behind – and was now using it to pierce the old monk’s own shield.
How could this be? How could it have come to this?
Looking at the monks collapsed on the ground with ashen faces, the bailiffs could barely hold back their laughter.
From the pavilion atop the city wall came peals of hearty laughter, and even the minor clerks stationed outside the gates could not help but smile.
“The last time I heard the county magistrate laugh like this was the day the drainage works were completed,” someone remarked with a sigh.
“Ah, who would have thought – it could all be this simple!” an official said, clapping his hands as he paced back and forth. “I always said those eclipse predictions were utterly unreliable. That old monk must have known it too.”
Not just the old monk – most of the officials here had known it in their hearts as well.
“So what of it?” another official chuckled, stroking his beard. “Would you have dared go up there and cut him down?”
Dared?
Everyone present silently asked themselves the same question – then shook their heads.
How could they dare? How could they dare?
In hindsight it all seemed so simple. But to actually do it was another matter entirely.
“This young lady is certainly no ordinary person,” Master Han said. “What did she say before she went up there?”
“The bailiffs said she overheard that bald fraud mention the eclipse, and that’s when she stepped out of her carriage – her tone was clearly one of doubt,” an official replied.
“Exactly.” Master Han nodded. “She must have known there would be no eclipse today; that’s why she dared to speak with such certainty.”
As he spoke, he stroked his beard.
She must have mastered astronomy and calendrical calculations – and not just a little, but with uncommon skill. Such ability was not something an ordinary family could possess.
“My lord, the hour is almost upon us,” someone reminded.
Though everyone knew in their hearts that there would be no eclipse, they still felt uneasy. At the words, they all stepped outside the gate and lifted their eyes to the sky.
Somewhere along the way, clouds had gathered overhead, casting a tense, heavy air over the crowd at the city gate.
Around the high platform, the bailiffs had already taken over. The old monk’s corpse had been pieced back together and covered with a white cloth, but had not yet been carried away. The once arrogant, high-spirited monks had been herded aside and penned in together.
It was only the span of a single cup of tea, yet for the monks it was a world turned upside down.
Who could have guessed such a calamity would befall them? Had they known, they would have torn the altar apart rather than send him forward! But now – whatever they said, it was far too late…
Watching the sky slowly change, everyone present grew tense. The common folk, unable to contain their fear, fell to their knees, clutching the gongs and drums they had brought, terror etched on their faces.
Ban Qin and the others had already gathered at Cheng Jiao-niang’s side.
Several of the attendants took the chance to study the lay of the land and plan an escape route.
Forget the carriage – better to mount the horses and ride straight out…
They exchanged glances, silently making their arrangements.
In contrast to their nervousness, the two young ladies appeared utterly at ease.
“Miss, wouldn’t it be better if you sat up there? It would look even more imposing,” Ban Qin whispered, pointing at the high platform in jest.
Cheng Jiao-niang sat below the platform, leaning against the steps, idly gazing at her own hand.
“True authority needs no outward show,” she replied.
Ban Qin sat at her feet, tilting her head back to stare at the sky with a trace of impatience.
“How much longer must we wait? It’s so dull,” she grumbled.
Cheng Jiao-niang glanced up at the sky.
“Half a day will be enough,” she said.
Half a day… Ban Qin frowned gloomily, then suddenly thought of something.
“Miss, why don’t I go brew some tea, so we can taste my latest blend?” she suggested.
Beneath the heavy clouds, atop the high platform, beside the corpse lying in a pool of blood, the faint fragrance of tea slowly drifted out. The people all around, summoning their courage to glance upward, were stunned at the sight of the young lady calmly holding a bowl of tea in her hands.
And then, as if in the blink of an eye, a breeze swept by, the clouds dispersed, and sunlight spilled down.
Time passed little by little. The blazing sun turned to gold, its straight rays slanting westward, casting the city gate’s walls in a glow of evening light.
Cheng Jiao-niang had already finished her tea, and the tea cakes were gone as well. Even her attendants had joined in, casually nibbling a few pieces.
Perhaps it was because of this relaxed air that the mood among the gathered people shifted. The faces once tight with dread, as if awaiting some great catastrophe, gradually softened. The way they looked at the monks no longer carried reliance or reverence. Some ceased kneeling in piety, instead sitting upright, and little by little, the murmurs about the day’s events turned into ordinary small talk.
Though the city gate was still the same city gate, and the crowd just as dense, the scene had completely changed from its initial solemnity. Now it resembled a bustling market street, filled with the breath of everyday life.
At that moment, Cheng Jiao-niang glanced at the sky and rose to her feet.
As she stood, the crowd before the city gate – once loud with chatter and noise – slowly fell silent.
A dense sea of people, yet not a single sound. The officials looking down from the city wall felt a chill run through their hearts.
If at that moment the young lady were to claim the credit for dispelling the eclipse and averting calamity, the people would surely fall to their knees in worship – just as they had once bowed to the dead old monk.
Perhaps, most of the time, the people simply need an object of worship, and care little about who that object actually is.
“The sun is about to set. Everyone, go home,” Cheng Jiao-niang said.
Go home…
After a brief silence, the crowd beneath the gate erupted again. But unlike before, this time the officials no longer felt nervous; instead, they all breathed a sigh of relief.
“Quick, we can’t waste this chance. We must persuade the people now and erase the influence of those bald frauds.”
“…Arrest that band of monks, so they can no longer spread their poisonous lies…”
“…Force them to confess the old bald donkey’s misdeeds, then post the proclamations for all to see…”
On the city wall, the officials bustled into action, each taking up tasks and setting off at once.
