Chapter 21
Chapter 21: Trial II
“Licentiate Li.” Magistrate Huang turned his gaze to Li Xue Dong.
Li Xue Dong didn’t react.
Teacher Gao hurried forward and shoved him lightly. “He’s calling you.”
Li Xue Dong jolted. “Yes, kid—” He swallowed hard. “Yes, this student—”
“Wrong, wrong!” Teacher Gao hissed, and smacked him once between the shoulders.
“Yes! Yes. This student,” Li Xue Dong corrected, voice trembling.
Teacher Gao had drilled him on the road—how to answer, how to bow, what to say and what not to say. But fear had eaten every lesson the moment he saw the platform.
“Bring Licentiate Li a chair,” Magistrate Huang ordered, as casually as if he were asking for more tea. “Licentiate Li, sit and speak.”
A chair was brought. Magistrate Huang gestured with a smile, inviting him to sit like a guest.
Li Xue Dong lowered himself onto it, stiff as a board.
Magistrate Huang glanced at Teacher Yao, amused. “Look at him. Still a child.”
“He is,” Teacher Yao laughed. “Back at the county exam, didn’t Magistrate say that if his birth month had been one month later, our county would have produced a prodigy?”
Magistrate Huang’s smile widened, then he looked back at Li Xue Dong. “Licentiate Li, you heard your Third Uncle Li Wen Cai’s accusation petition clearly?”
“Yes.” Cold sweat slicked Li Xue Dong’s back under his gown.
“Did this accusation petition come as expected,” Magistrate Huang asked, shaking the paper lightly, “or did it take you by surprise?”
The question struck like a slap. Li Xue Dong blanked for a breath, then instinctively looked to Eldest Sister Li Jin Zhu.
Li Jin Zhu lifted her chin and flicked her mouth at him—answer. Now.
“In reply to Magistrate,” Li Xue Dong said, forcing his eyes back to the platform, “this student… expected it, and also didn’t.”
“You expected it?” Magistrate Huang’s brows rose, his surprise exaggerated to the point of performance. “You actually expected it? Why? Speak carefully.”
“This student studied day and night,” Li Xue Dong blurted, then choked on the words. He swallowed hard. “This student fought with my life to pass because of Third Uncle. If I didn’t pass, this student wouldn’t survive. My whole household… wouldn’t survive.”
His eyes flooded. His voice broke.
“Pour Licentiate Li a cup of tea,” Magistrate Huang said gently. “Don’t rush. Speak slowly.”
Teacher Yao personally poured the tea and personally handed it to Li Xue Dong, smiling as if he were soothing a frightened student instead of steadying a witness on a platform. “Have a sip. Don’t rush. Speak slowly.”
Li Xue Dong drank it in one gulp. He gripped the cup a moment, knuckles white, then set it down and began again.
“In the autumn three years ago,” he said hoarsely, “this student’s father led the cow our household and Third Uncle’s household raised together to Cao Family Wharf to breed. On the way back, a storm hit. Father covered the cow with everything he had. He got home soaked through. The cow was fine… but Father ran a high fever that wouldn’t break. He held on for three days and didn’t make it.
“Before Father died, he left word: don’t hold a funeral, and don’t buy a new coffin. He said to open Mother’s coffin and place him together with Mother. But Third Uncle insisted on making it grand. He used Father’s funeral as a way to pocket copper coins, and our household’s savings were wiped clean.
“When Father was dying, Eldest Sister combed up her hair in front of him and swore she would never marry. The Zhang family that was engaged to her agreed to break the match, but Third Uncle blocked it. He said breaking the engagement would ruin the Li clan’s reputation. Eldest Sister gave Third Aunt the gold-wrapped silver hairpin Mother left behind, plus half a string of cash, and only then did Third Uncle stop interfering.
“The mother cow Father died for was pregnant with a calf. Third Uncle said her belly was big because she was sick. He even said the sickness was Father’s fault. He demanded we pay for the medicine and for hiring the castrator. He said treating her cost more than the cow itself, and that we should pay him the value of half a cow. We had no money, so Third Uncle declared the cow would belong to his household.
“When Father was buried, it was raining. Third Uncle said a filial son had to kneel at the grave. He held an umbrella and watched this student kneel there for over three hours. This student was weak to begin with. I was soaked through, and when I got home, I fell ill.”
Li Xue Dong’s throat tightened. He pressed his lips together, breathing hard, then forced the words out again.
“That illness lasted more than a year. When I finally recovered, on the first day I walked out of my room, I ran into Cousin Li Xue Fu and Li Xue Shou. They beat me badly. Only because Third Sister fought desperately to protect me—and because Eldest Sister and Second Sister rushed back in time—did it stop.
“About half a month later, one night, Little Nan went to look at the moon by the bamboo grove behind our house. Cousin Li Xue Fu and Li Xue Shou struck her on the head with a stick. She was unconscious for two days and two nights before she woke up.
“Little Nan was beaten,” Li Xue Dong said, voice shaking, “because she had draped one of this student’s long padded jackets over herself.”
At the mention of moonlight and bamboo, Gu Yan’s brows lifted behind his veil.
Lu Xiu loved watching the moon—especially the moon in a bamboo grove. She always said the bamboo swayed and the cold light broke into dappled patterns, the most otherworldly sight in the world. Gu Yan had always thought the Han Yue bamboo grove carried too much yin and once told her she should watch the moon only beneath flowering trees.
So which day had Little Nan been beaten into a two-day faint?
He would need to find out.
Li Xue Dong pressed on, voice rough with desperation. “Third Aunt even brought someone to look Little Nan over—a human broker—and said Little Nan could be sold for ten taels of silver. Eldest Sister said Third Uncle was determined to swallow our household’s thirty-plus mu of paddy fields, and also Little Nan’s sale money. She said Eldest Sister and Second Sister could each be sold for three to five taels too.”
He swallowed hard. His eyes burned. “Later, Eldest Sister said this schooling still had to be done. It was our whole household’s only way out. We didn’t need this student to earn the licentiate—even getting into the County School as an attached student would…”
He cut off abruptly and looked at Teacher Gao.
On the road, when he’d said that an attached student could meet the children of the county’s head runner and grain clerk and build a little connection, Teacher Gao had warned him: Don’t say that. Not here.
“I understand,” Magistrate Huang said smoothly, rescuing him without a pause. “I already know why you insisted on going to school. Go on.”
“Yes.” Li Xue Dong bowed his head slightly and hurried on. “Last autumn, when it was time to pay the grain tax, Eldest Sister didn’t go with Third Uncle like in past years. This student went with Eldest Sister and Second Sister. On that trip, we saved over thirteen hundred copper coins. We used that money to pay this student’s tuition and send me back to Gao Family School.”
His voice rose—and cracked. “At Gao Family School, this student wasn’t studying. This student was fighting for my life—fighting for myself, for Eldest Sister, for Second Sister, for Third Sister… and for Little Nan.”
He couldn’t continue.
Magistrate Huang’s eyes were already wet. He began wiping tears with the solemn concentration of a man doing his duty. Teacher Yao followed suit, dabbing at his face.
The two rows of yamen runners caught on as if they’d been trained for it—some sniffing hard, some wiping their eyes in rhythm with Magistrate Huang, as though a conductor had set the tempo.
Magistrate Huang pressed a handkerchief to his face, blew his nose hard, coughed once, and raised his voice. “Have Li Xue Fu and Li Xue Shou arrived?”
“They have,” the head runner answered.
He strode forward, grabbed Li Xue Fu and Li Xue Shou one in each hand, shoved them between the two rows of yamen runners, and forced them to their knees.
Magistrate Huang studied them, then pointed at Li Xue Shou—the one with dull, bulging ox eyes—and asked, “Tell me. Have you ever beaten this cousin?”
Li Xue Shou followed the magistrate’s finger, glared at Li Xue Dong, and nodded at once. “I beat him.”
“Why did you beat him?” Magistrate Huang asked.
“Mother said if we beat him to death,” Li Xue Shou said plainly, “we can eat meat every day!”