In the misty, river-carved lands of Chaozhou, three young scholars walked with a promise that seemed to shimmer about them: Zou Shilong, Liu Bolian, and Wang Zhichen. Of the three, the bond between Zou and Wang was forged in a fire that made mere gold seem a paltry measure of loyalty. In due time, both Zou Shilong and Wang Zhichen conquered the provincial examinations, earning the prestigious title of juren. With their futures bright and their ambitions aligned, they vowed to share a single boat to the capital, side by side, to face the imperial metropolitan examination.
On the day of departure, however, the river breeze did little to clear the heaviness from Zou Shilong’s brow. He stood at the prow, his gaze fixed not on the horizon, but on some invisible weight. Wang Zhichen, ever perceptive, stepped closer.
“A man of worth sets his sights on glory,” he said softly. “What use is there in sighing over the miles stretching between you and home?”
Zou Shilong shook his head, a long, ragged breath escaping his lips. “It is not the distance that haunts me. My wife is seven months with child. By my reckoning, she will be brought to bed around the first month of the new year. I cannot shake this knot of worry.”
A smile touched Wang Zhichen’s lips, warm and reassuring. “How curious—my own wife is in precisely the same condition. Surely, Heaven extends its favor to the righteous. Both mother and child will come through safely; you needn’t wear your spirit thin with anxiety.”
Zou Shilong turned, his eyes suddenly alight as if struck by a sudden epiphany. “You and I have shared a desk since childhood, entered the county school together, and recently earned our degrees on the very same list. Now, our wives carry children at the same moment in time. Is this not fate’s own design? Brother, if you find the idea worthy, let our families be joined. Should both be sons, let them be sworn brothers. Both daughters—sworn sisters. But if it be a boy and a girl…” He paused, the implication hanging sweetly in the air. “Let them be bound as husband and wife. What say you?”
Wang Zhichen’s face brightened, and he clapped his hands together in delight. “You have given voice to the very thought hidden in the chambers of my own heart!”
Wine was summoned at once. They drank deep, their conversation flowing as freely as the liquor, and from that hour, their bond grew only richer and more profound.
When they reached the capital and faced the examinations, fortune smiled brightly upon Zou Shilong; his name blazed upon the list of successful candidates. Wang Zhichen, however, was not so favored. Gathering his belongings, he prepared to return home ahead of his friend. Zou Shilong accompanied him to the city’s outskirts, the dust of the road swirling around their boots. At their parting, he pressed a sealed letter into Wang Zhichen’s hands.
“I must trouble you, brother, to deliver this home,” Zou said, his voice thick with gravity. “And whatever matters arise there—large or small—I beg you to look after them on my behalf.”
Wang Zhichen clasped his hand tightly. “Set your mind at ease. I will tend to everything with all the care I possess. You need only concentrate on the palace examination. Give those top-ranked scholars a proper contest.”
With tears glistening in their eyes, the two men parted ways. Wang Zhichen traveled through wind and dust until he arrived home, where he found that his wife, née Wei, had safely delivered a plump, fair-skinned son. They named the boy Chaodong. When he asked for the date of birth, his wife replied, “The fifteenth of the first month, during the hour of the Dragon.”
Wang Zhichen’s heart leaped. “And the Zou household?”
“On the very same day,” she answered, “during the hour of the Rooster, a daughter was born to them. They have named her Qiongyu.”
Brimming with joy, Wang Zhichen tucked Zou Shilong’s letter into his sleeve and delivered it in person. Lady Li, Zou’s wife, had already received the jubilant news of her husband’s success; now, bearing this letter of safe passage and learning of the sacred promise made aboard the boat, she was overjoyed beyond measure. She ordered her maids to prepare a banquet in Wang Zhichen’s honor, and he returned home late, comfortably flushed with wine and goodwill.
From that day forward, whenever the Zou household required a man’s hand in public affairs, Wang Zhichen managed everything with scrupulous integrity, never once allowing a selfish thought to taint his stewardship.
Several months later, Zou Shilong returned home in a blaze of glory, appointed as a district magistrate. He immediately selected an auspicious day and invited their mutual friend, Liu Bolian, to serve as the matchmaker, thereby formalizing the sacred betrothal between their families. Wang Zhichen presented a magnificent jade ornament inlaid with gold filigree in the shape of a ruyi scepter; Zou Shilong reciprocated with a pair of exquisite azure jade phoenix hairpins. After Zou departed to assume his post, letters traveled steadily between the two households, weaving their lives together across the miles. Wang Zhichen, though repeatedly thwarted in the imperial examinations, eventually secured a teaching position and steadily climbed the bureaucratic ladder to become the assistant prefect of Songjiang.
But Heaven, it seemed, was ungenerous with his years. While serving in office, he was struck down by a grave illness. Sensing the end drawing near, he struggled to pen one final letter to Zou Shilong. It mentioned not a single private concern, but pleaded, over and over, that his old friend watch over and support his young son. The letter dispatched, he passed away not long after in his official residence.
At the time, Zou Shilong was serving as an inspecting censor in Nanjing. When the letter reached him, it felt as though the very sky had cracked open above his head. He wept aloud, cries of anguish wrung from the deepest chambers of his body. He traveled personally to offer sacrifices and oversee the mourning rites. Wang Zhichen had been an official of spotless integrity; aside from a few chests of books, his household was as bare as though swept clean by the wind, without a spare coin to its name. Zou Shilong, his heart heavy with sorrow, provided a substantial sum of silver for the funeral and personally petitioned his superiors to grant the use of government courier stations for transporting the coffin. Thus, Wang Zhichen’s remains were borne home with dignity and laid to rest.
Once the funeral affairs were settled, Zou proposed taking the boy, Chaodong, under his wing, bringing him to his own post to continue his studies. But Chaodong, young as he was, possessed a spine of steel. He bowed deeply and declined. “My father’s mourning period is not yet complete. My mother is a widow, and our household is poor. How could a son abandon his duties and travel far away in comfort?” Hearing this, Zou Shilong was stirred with admiration for the boy’s fierce filial devotion. He pressed the matter no further, but made a point of sending regular stipends to support the family, all the while urging Chaodong to apply himself relentlessly to his books. Yet an orphan and a widow, with no steady income, soon found their fortunes dwindling like the waning moon. By the age of fourteen, Chaodong had passed the entry examinations and gained admission to the county academy. Zou Shilong, delighted by the news, sent a messenger bearing his congratulations.
From that point on, Chaodong shut his ears to the world’s clamor and buried himself in the classics. But a young scholar who knows only his books and nothing of making a living soon finds the roof leaking and the pantry bare. His family’s circumstances slipped from hardship into genuine destitution. Meanwhile, Zou Shilong’s career soared; he rose all the way to the rank of Assistant Administration Commissioner. Lacking a son of his own, he eventually retired and returned to his native place. Chaodong, accompanied by old Liu Bolian, went to pay his respects. Standing before the vermilion gates and towering walls of the Zou mansion, his patched and threadbare robes made a stark, almost obscene contrast among the silk-and-brocade guests. As it happened, a delegation of local officials arrived to call upon Zou Shilong, and the old man, feeling the sting of humiliation at being associated with such a shabby figure, grew thoroughly displeased.
In the blink of an eye, Chaodong turned sixteen. He asked Liu Bolian to convey a message to the Zou household—that he wished to select an auspicious date and complete the wedding. But the old commissioner put on his most bureaucratic airs and replied, “When his father was alive, a small betrothal gift was indeed exchanged, but the full rite of nacai—the formal presentation of the proposal gifts—was never performed. He may be the son of an official, but my daughter is the precious daughter of an official as well. Neither family is of low standing. If a wedding is to take place, the Six Rites must be observed in full, down to the last detail.”
When Chaodong received this reply, a cold weight settled in his chest. He laughed bitterly. “He knows perfectly well that our family has fallen on hard times and cannot possibly muster the silver for all this ceremony. Why must he torment me so? A true man need never fret over finding a wife. I shall redouble my efforts. If, by fortune’s grace, I attain a degree, we will discuss this again.” And with that, he set the whole matter aside and never spoke of it again.
One day, the Commissioner said to his wife, “Our daughter is of age now. She ought to be married.”
The wife replied, “A few days ago, the Wang boy came to discuss the wedding. Though his family is currently struggling, we have only this one daughter. Why not invite him to marry into our household as a live-in son-in-law? Wouldn’t that satisfy both sides? What need is there to insist on that paltry sum of betrothal silver?”
The Commissioner stroked his beard, his face twisted with disdain. “That Wang Chaodong—I see nothing in him but a future as a threadbare scholar. I hold the rank of a commissioner; what use would a poverty-stricken pedant be as a son-in-law? I wager he cannot come up with the silver for the betrothal gifts, so I deliberately used those terms to thwart him. And the boy had the audacity to talk big—something about ‘if fortune grants me a degree, we’ll discuss it then.’ Hmph. Let a year pass, and I’ll have Brother Liu inform him that if he still cannot present the nacai gifts, I will give him a hundred taels of silver to find a wife elsewhere. Then I can seek a match for my daughter from a distinguished, well-connected family and not waste her youth.”
The wife shook her head vigorously. “He may be poor now, but he is devoted to his studies; who is to say he won’t rise in the future? Moreover, although his father is gone, the promise made before those two children were even born still echoes in our ears. How can we turn our backs on that pledge and break this engagement?”
The Commissioner waved an impatient hand. “What does a woman understand of such things? I have my reasons.”
Little did either of them know that a pair of ears had been drinking in every word from behind the screen. Qiongyu had caught the entire conversation. The next day, while she and her maid, Dangui, were admiring the blooms in the rear garden, they happened to spot Chaodong passing along the lane just outside the wall. Dangui surreptitiously pointed him out and whispered, “Miss, that is the young master Wang.” Mistress and maid stood separated from him by the flower-topped wall, gazing across the distance. A strange, inexplicable stirring rose in each of their hearts, and they eventually turned back toward the house. Qiongyu found that though his clothes were shabby, his bearing was refined and handsome, with a clarity in his brow that spoke of quiet, unyielding strength. A private delight bloomed in her chest.
The following day, she returned to the garden with Dangui, her heart secretly fixed on catching another glimpse of him. Chaodong, for his part, had seen her the previous day—eyes like stars, a face like moonlight, radiant and unforgettable—and had guessed that she must be Qiongyu. The next day, as if drawn by some unseen thread, he found his feet carrying him back to that same stretch of wall. Qiongyu spotted him from afar and quickly ordered Dangui to call out, “Young Master Wang!” Chaodong, afraid of being seen by others, dared not approach. Dangui called again, her voice more urgent this time. Sensing that something must be amiss, he steeled himself and advanced to the foot of the wall. Qiongyu had Dangui quietly open the small garden gate. Through the narrow opening, she told him, in meticulous detail, of her father’s intention to break the engagement.
When she had finished, a fierce pride surged through Chaodong. “This match was arranged by my late father,” he said. “I may be poor now, but I will never accept his hundred taels of silver to annul the marriage. I will not withdraw. If your father insists on marrying you to another, then so be it.” Qiongyu, seeing the steadfast resolve in his face, felt a mingled sense of relief and sharp heartache. She hurriedly said, “Though my father harbors such thoughts, I will never submit to them. You must devote yourself single-mindedly to your studies. One day, we shall be reunited. Come back here tonight. There are things I wish to say to you. For now, we had better part—someone may come at any moment.”
Chaodong returned home and endured the slow, agonizing crawl of daylight. Only when the night was deep and the watch-drum had sounded did he steal back to the garden’s rear gate. Dangui was already waiting, a lantern glowing in her hand. Seeing him approach, she whispered, “The young miss invites you in to speak with her.” Chaodong’s heart thumped with trepidation. He hesitated. “This… this isn’t proper. If your master were to find out, it would bring shame on us both.” Dangui pressed her lips together in a knowing smile. “The master and mistress are both fast asleep. Please come in, young master. There’s nothing to fear.” Still, Chaodong wavered, but Dangui’s urgent prodding left him no choice. He stiffened his resolve and followed her inside.
In her chamber, a table had been laid with an array of delicate dishes and a pot of warmed wine. Qiongyu rose to greet him and invited him to sit opposite her. They drank together, and after a few cups, the glow of the lamplight rendered her beauty even more intoxicating. A wave of heat rushed to Chaodong’s head; he could no longer contain himself and moved to take liberties. But Qiongyu, suddenly sober, pushed him away and spoke with dignified severity. “I arranged this meeting tonight only out of pity for your poverty, to offer you comfort of the heart. It was never for this. If we were to yield to a moment’s weakness now, what face would we have left on our wedding night?”
Shame washed over Chaodong, and his cheeks burned crimson. Stammering, he said, “I… I would never dare force you. But… if your father insists on marrying you to someone else, what will you do?” At these words, Qiongyu’s expression hardened into unshakable resolve, each word falling like hammered iron. “If my father forces me, there is only one path left—death itself.” So saying, she took Chaodong’s hand, and the two knelt to face the heavens, swearing an oath of eternal fidelity. When they rose, they returned to their seats and resumed drinking. Unwittingly, the hour crept past midnight. Qiongyu, still young and unaccustomed to wine, felt the room begin to swim. Her eyelids grew heavy, and in her drunken languor, she forgot the formalities of seeing her guest out. She lay down fully dressed upon the bed and slipped into a deep sleep. Chaodong had intended to leave, but Dangui said, “The young miss hasn’t dismissed you yet. She may still have more to say. Wait a little while, young master, and leave once she wakes.” Chaodong approached the bedside and gazed down at her. In sleep, she was as lovely and tender as a crabapple blossom nodding in spring, and all at once, the fire of desire kindled again within him, impossible to suppress. As though possessed, he removed his shoes and climbed onto the bed, gathering her gently into his arms. Qiongyu stirred from her drunken haze, murmuring faintly, “I… I grew tipsy and tired… I’ve been so discourteous…” He whispered urgent pleas into her ear. By now, Qiongyu’s own emotions were tangled beyond unraveling, and amid a swirl of tender feelings and confusion, she found herself offering no more than a token resistance. The two consummated their union. When the cock crowed the approach of dawn, they rose in a flurry. Qiongyu fetched three bolts of silk, a pair of gold bracelets, and several silver hairpins, pressing them all into Chaodong’s arms. Before they parted, she made him promise to return the following night. From then on, he came at dusk and left before daylight, invisible as a ghost, for more than two months.
One evening, Chaodong’s mother fell suddenly ill. He was occupied with brewing her medicine and tending to her, so he did not keep his appointment. Dangui waited at the back gate until her anxiety turned to restlessness. At last, she heard footsteps approaching. Her heart leaped with relief. She swung the gate open, even as she said, “At last, young master!” But the figure that shouldered its way through the doorway was a stranger—a man named Zhu Shengba, a common thief who made his living creeping through the dark like a rat. Tonight, he had happened to skulk past this very spot, and when the gate opened, he barreled straight inside. Dangui, squinting in the moonlight, saw a swarthy, menacing face instead of the one she expected. Terror ripped through her, and she spun around to flee. Zhu Shengba, terrified she would raise an alarm, felt a surge of murderous impulse. He lunged after her, drew a dagger, and drove it home. Dangui crumpled to the ground.
Qiongyu, waiting inside by the lamplight for Chaodong, heard a strange commotion in the front. She peered out—and saw a black silhouette, dagger dripping crimson, bursting into the room. Her heart nearly stopped from sheer horror, but instinct sharpened her wits. She shrank into the shadows behind the door. As the thief rifled through her chests and cupboards, she slipped out, crouching low and silent as a cat, and fled to the main hall, where she concealed herself in the deepest darkness. Zhu Shengba swept the chamber clean of anything of value and vanished into the night. Only when the sky began to pale did Qiongyu, her soul barely tethered to her body, stumble to her mother’s room. “Mother…” she quavered, “a thief… last night… a thief broke in!”
The Commissioner, roused by the commotion, came striding in. “Why didn’t you cry out at once?” he demanded. Qiongyu, on the verge of tears, gasped, “I… I saw him kill Dangui. I was so frightened I could barely breathe. I could only open the door and run out, and hide there in the dark. How could I dare make a sound?” The Commissioner went to the back gate and found Dangui lying in a pool of blood, long past the reach of breath. A thick cloud of suspicion gathered in his mind. Turning to Qiongyu, he asked, “Why would Dangui be killed at the back gate leading to the rear garden?” Qiongyu, caught off guard, had no reply. The Commissioner’s suspicions coiled tighter. The shock and terror, layered on top of her secret torment, proved too much for Qiongyu. She fell ill and took to her bed, unable to rise.
The Commissioner initially toyed with the idea of reporting the crime to the authorities, but upon further reflection, he hesitated. There were no clues, no trace of the stolen goods—where would one even begin to look for the thief? He decided to let the matter lie for the moment, instead quietly assigning a household servant named Mei Wang to make discreet inquiries around town. Meanwhile, in the Wang household, Chaodong’s mother took a turn for the worse. She needed medicine desperately, but the family’s belongings had long since been pawned away. At his wit’s end, Chaodong took one of the gold bracelets Qiongyu had given him and went to find a silversmith named Rao Gui, hoping to exchange it for some emergency silver. Rao Gui examined the bracelet and agreed to take it, though he had not yet put it away.
As luck—wretched luck—would have it, Mei Wang happened to be passing the silversmith’s shop. His eye fell on the bright gold bracelet lying on the counter, and it struck him as terribly familiar. He stepped into the shop and asked with feigned casualness, “Whose item is this?” The silversmith answered offhandedly, “The young scholar Wang brought it in just now and asked me to exchange it for silver.” Mei Wang’s heart gave a sharp thump, but his face betrayed nothing. “If he wants silver for it,” he said smoothly, “why not bring it to my master? If it pleases him, he’ll simply pay the boy for it directly.” The silversmith said, “He asked me not to mention his name. You’d best keep quiet as well, so he doesn’t blame me for running my mouth.” Mei Wang gave a noncommittal grunt, scooped up the bracelet, and left. Back at the mansion, he presented it to the Commissioner. “Master, take a look at this. It looks like something from our household. Perhaps the mistress and the young miss can identify it.” The mistress came out, and the moment she saw it, she recognized it unmistakably. “This is my daughter’s! Where did you get this?” “At the silversmith Rao’s shop,” Mei Wang replied. “The silversmith said the young scholar Wang Chaodong brought it in to exchange for silver.”
The Commissioner erupted in a volcanic fury, all his pent-up suspicions and resentments pouring forth at once. “I always said that boy would shed his principles under the pressure of poverty, that his character was unsound. And now he’s committed a crime worse than a beast’s!” He dashed off an indictment in a frenzy of brush strokes and ordered Mei Wang to deliver it to the itinerant court at once.
The complaint read:
“An accusation of murder and robbery: The villain Wang Chaodong, the wretched son of the deceased Assistant Prefect Wang Zhichen, has refused to abide by his station, squandered his family’s fortunes, and fallen into dire hunger and cold. Because of the former friendship between his father and this official, he was permitted to come and go from our household with familiarity. Little did we suspect that beneath a human face beat the heart of a beast. On a certain night this month, during the second watch, he stealthily entered our home. Encountering the maid Dangui, he attempted to force himself upon her. When she resisted, his savagery boiled over and he took a knife and slew her. He then ransacked the house of its valuables, stripping it bare. The following day, we discovered one piece of the stolen property—a gold bracelet—in his possession, with the silversmith Rao Gui as witness. For such a murderous, plundering, lawless villain, we humbly beseech His Excellency to recover the stolen goods, exact blood-debt for blood, purge the land of such wickedness, and bring peace to the innocent. Respectfully submitted.”The itinerant official presiding at that time was none other than Lord Bao—Bao the Clear-Sky, whose wisdom was as pure as still water and as penetrating as the keenest blade. Upon receiving the indictment, he immediately issued a warrant, commanding the constables Zhao Sheng and Sun Yong to arrest Wang Chaodong and bring him to court. The calamity fell upon Chaodong like a thunderbolt from a cloudless sky. Early the next morning, he hurriedly drafted his own plea and rushed to the yamen gates, pounding the grievance drum.
His counter-complaint read:
“A plea to illuminate deceit and halt false accusation, to distinguish the crooked from the straight: A man whose neighbor’s silk is missing cannot be arbitrarily accused of stealing clothes; a man who buys wine in the state of Yue cannot be made to pay a tavern bill in Qin. The plaintiff’s late father was a man of classical learning and moral rectitude, a commissioned officer of the court who preserved his integrity immaculately, leaving behind nothing more than bare walls. Though his unworthy son is of little talent, I am nevertheless a registered student of the county academy. The elder Zou Shilong and my late father swore an oath of betrothal before my birth; betrothal gifts were formally exchanged, with the azure jade phoenix hairpins as token. Liu Bolian can serve as witness to these facts. But since my family’s fortunes declined and I have been unable to muster the full Six Rites, my prospective father-in-law has grown enamored of wealth and disdainful of poverty, repeatedly proposing to annul the engagement and marry his daughter elsewhere. He has merely been waiting for a pretext to do so. Now, by sheer coincidence, his home has been burglarized. He seizes this chance to fabricate a trap and cast his blame upon me, seeking thereby to sever the old bond and secure a match with a loftier family. I kneel and beseech His Excellency, whose wisdom is a mirror hung on high, to flush out the true culprit, wash away my unjust disgrace, and grant that we may complete our nuptials, thus honoring the ancient pledge. Prostrate in my wretched plea, I shall be grateful without end.”Lord Bao perused both documents, and a seed of understanding took root in his mind. He summoned Wang Chaodong to the bench. “You claim you did not kill Dangui. Then where did this gold bracelet come from?”
Chaodong answered, “The young lady of the Zou family gave it to this student.”
Lord Bao fixed him with a stare as sharp as a honed edge. “I find that rather difficult to believe.”
“She can be called to testify face-to-face with me,” Chaodong replied.
The magistrate paused, then rapped the gavel and dismissed the attendants. He led Chaodong into the inner chamber alone and asked in a lowered voice, “Were you and Zou Qiongyu… intimate?”
Chaodong’s face flushed scarlet. Words failed him, and he could only glance about in mute mortification. Observing his expression, the magistrate understood seven or eight parts of the truth. He softened his tone. “If there were no intimacy, why would she give you something so precious?”
Chaodong fell to his knees, tears spilling over. “Had I not been plunged into this impossible injustice today, I would rather die than speak of it and stain the young lady’s reputation. But now… to prove my innocence, I have no choice.” And so he told everything—the meeting in the garden, the nocturnal rendezvous, the oath they had sworn, the gifts, the secret union—from beginning to end, in painstaking detail.
When he had finished, Lord Bao said slowly, “I will verify every word of what you have told me. If it is true, then when we face each other in court tomorrow, you will tell the whole truth exactly as you have just done. I will have my own reasoning. When the time comes, I will summon the girl to testify. If your words hold true, I will settle the matter and see you two wed. But if there is even half a lie in your account, you will be slandering a virtuous maiden, and you will pay with your life.”
Chaodong kowtowed again and again, gratitude surging through him. “This student places himself entirely in Your Excellency’s hands.”
The next day, Lord Bao reopened the court. Zou Shilong appeared in person, and from the moment he stepped into the hall, he launched an aggressive assault. “This degenerate boy’s conduct is an outrage. I trust Your Excellency, in consideration of my status as a court official, will apply the law with utmost severity and sentence him to death!”
Lord Bao’s expression remained utterly composed. “Where reason points, the law follows. The law cannot be bent to serve personal interests. Wang Chaodong is also the son of an official household and a promising talent in the academy. In my eyes, there is no distinction of favor.” He motioned Chaodong forward. “Your father was an honest official. Today you stand here as a prisoner in the dock. Search your heart—can you face the ancestors of the Wang family?”
Chaodong kowtowed deeply. “This student has studied the sages from childhood and has ever held righteousness as his foundation. How could I stoop to such a bestial crime?”
“If it was not you,” said the magistrate, “then how did the bracelet—the stolen property—come into your possession?”
“It was a gift from the young lady of the Zou family. This is no plundered booty.”
Zou Shilong gave a cold, contemptuous laugh. “He has clearly run out of arguments and has nothing left to say, so now he slings mud at my daughter’s name!”
Lord Bao turned to Zou Shilong. “Your daughter is a sheltered maiden of the inner chambers. How could she have met with him to bestow such a valuable gift?”
Chaodong lifted his head and spoke with clarion clarity. “There are reasons for all things.”
“What reasons?” the magistrate pressed. “Speak plainly.”
And Chaodong, without further reservation, laid bare the whole story before the court. “In the third month of this year, this student was passing by his garden and chanced to see the young lady and her maid Dangui admiring the blossoms. We looked upon each other for a long while. The next day, when this student passed that way again, the young lady was already in the garden. She bade Dangui to call me to the gate and told me in detail how her father had spoken with her mother of despising poverty and loving wealth, of his desire to break the betrothal and return a hundred taels of silver, and how only her mother would not consent. The young lady, seeing this student in threadbare clothes, took pity on me in her heart and arranged for me to come into the garden at night to speak. I went as she asked. Dangui waited at the gate and led me inside. Wine was prepared. The young lady herself gave me a pair of gold bracelets, several silver hairpins, and three bolts of silk, urging me to devote myself to my studies. A few days ago, my aged mother fell gravely ill and we had no money for medicine. In desperation, I took one of the gold bracelets to the silversmith Rao to exchange for silver, not expecting the Zou household’s servant Mei Wang would trick me out of it. As for the murder of Dangui—this student knows absolutely nothing! I beseech Your Excellency, in your Heaven-like mercy for all living things, to remember that my late father left behind only this one thread of blood, that my mother still lies sick—I beg Your Excellency to see through this clearly, to capture the real murderer, to cleanse my unjust shame, and to fulfill the betrothal made before I drew my first breath. I will weave grass and hold rings in my mouth to repay this kindness!”
When Chaodong finished, Lord Bao turned a calm, measured gaze upon Zou Shilong. “From what I have heard, Elder Zou, you have been somewhat remiss in the governance of your household, permitting laxity within and without. It seems you too bear some responsibility. How can you lay all the blame on this young man alone?”
The Commissioner’s face darkened with fury. “This is nothing but a pack of wild fabrications! My daughter’s conduct is proper and decorous. How could such a debased thing possibly have occurred!”
“If it never occurred,” said the magistrate evenly, “then let your daughter come and testify face-to-face. The truth—black or white—will be known the moment she speaks.”
Chaodong added, “If the young lady is willing to testify, and a single word I have said proves false, I will willingly accept death.”
Inside, Zou Shilong’s heart churned like a stormy sea. If he claimed the story was false—how had this boy come to know the private words he had exchanged with his wife? Yet if it was true… where could he hide his face? His thoughts were a tangled knot; he could find no answer. Seeing his hesitation, Lord Bao applied a careful needle of provocation. “The Elder is a court official of rank. How is it that you now seem less meticulous than this humble interrogator?”
The jab struck home. Zou Shilong’s old face flushed deep crimson. He stiffened his neck and said, “No one knows a daughter better than her father. I know my household’s reputation. Absolutely no such thing occurred!”
“If you are so confident,” said Lord Bao, pressing forward without quarter, “then what harm is there in bringing her forth?”
Zou Shilong, trapped by his own words, was silenced. After a long, agonizing hesitation, he reluctantly ordered Mei Wang: “Go… go and fetch the young lady.”
Mei Wang galloped home, his chest heaving as he gasped out the situation to the mistress. The mistress’s heart was cut to ribbons. She rushed into her daughter’s room and recounted every harrowing detail. Yet Qiongyu, in this dire moment, had become strangely calm. In the depths of her heart, she knew the truth with absolute clarity: That dear fool has fallen into terrible calamity. If I don’t step forward and testify for him, his life is forfeit.
Outside, Mei Wang pressed her to hurry. Qiongyu hardened her heart, straightened her dress and hair, and stepped into the sedan chair. It bore her directly to the great hall of the yamen. She emerged gracefully, her eyes lowered, her head bowed in modesty, and walked into the courtroom. Lord Bao addressed her with a gentle voice. “Wang Chaodong says that you gave him this gold bracelet. Your father says he stole it. Truth or falsehood, innocence or guilt—all of it rests now upon a single word from you. Speak with honesty.”
Qiongyu’s face burned with mortification. How could she, in open court before all these people, admit to a secret affair? She bit her lip and stared at the floor, mute. Beside her, Chaodong, frantic, cried out in a voice laced with tears, “Miss! Things have come to this—what is there left to hide? Are you truly going to watch me die a wrongful death?”
Qiongyu, still young, and now with Chaodong calling out to her so piteously in front of the entire court, felt her heart shattered into chaos. She only hung her head lower, still unable to utter a single word. Lord Bao’s face suddenly hardened. He slammed the gavel down with a thunderous crack and roared, “Wang Chaodong! You parrot the words of Confucius and Mencius, yet your conduct is that of a bandit! You dare fabricate such filthy lies to deceive this court and defile a woman’s honor! Guards—forty heavy strokes! Then sentence him to death pending review!”
The words hit Chaodong like the sky collapsing upon his head. A childish, desperate despair surged up in him, and right there in the courtroom, prostrate on the ground, he wept like a child, his cries wrenched from the very marrow of his soul. “Miss! Oh, Miss! If it was to come to this, why did it ever begin? The solemn vows we swore that night—have you forgotten them all? If I suffer the rod and die today, it is you who have blighted my entire life… I do not fear death, but my white-haired mother remains at home. When I am dead, who will care for her in her final years…”
Every word was drenched in blood, each sentence a heartbreak. Qiongyu could bear it no longer. Two clear streams of tears rolled down her cheeks. She lifted her head abruptly, her lips trembling. “Your… Your Excellency,” she said, her voice quiet but unwavering, “the gold bracelet… was indeed a gift from this young woman.” She drew a deep breath, steadied herself, and looked directly at the magistrate, her gaze resolute. “The man who killed Dangui was not him. When the thief burst into the room, I caught a glimpse of him from the darkness. By the lamplight, I could make out a shadow—a middle-aged man, with a beard beneath his chin.”
This was precisely what Lord Bao had been waiting for. His expression thawed at once. He nodded. “There—the truth speaks. Rise. I will spare you the beating this time.” Snatched from the jaws of death, Chaodong scrambled to his feet, trembling, and knelt beside the young lady. Qiongyu saw his disheveled hair, his utterly bedraggled state, and a wave of love and aching guilt washed over her. In that moment, forgetting entirely that she stood in a court of law, she instinctively reached out and gathered his scattered locks.
