In the bustling province of Guangdong, there once lived a merchant named You Zihua. Though his family hailed from Zhejiang and had built a modest textile fortune over three generations, Zihua’s character was marred by a cruel vice: drink. Liquor turned him into a monster, and his concubine, a local woman of the Wang clan, became the frequent target of his drunken rages. She bore his blows in stoic silence until the pain eclipsed her will to live. One fateful evening, while Zihua lay dead to the world in a stupor, she slipped into the night and cast herself into a well.
When Zihua awoke the next morning, the thought that she might be lying at the bottom of a well never crossed his mind. Assuming she had fled, he plastered the streets with notices offering a reward for her return. Weeks bled into months with no word. Eventually, his business in Guangdong waned, and he packed his life away, returning to his ancestral home in Zhejiang and leaving the mystery to gather dust.
In that same district lived a butcher named Lin Fu. A man of grit and toil, he had scrimped and saved enough silver to marry a woman named Fang Chunlian. But Chunlian possessed a wandering heart, often seeking comfort in the beds of other men. When Lin Fu’s parents uncovered her indiscretions and laid the sordid truth before their son, Lin Fu’s grief curdled into a blinding rage. He subjected Chunlian to a torrent of verbal abuse and physical violence, stripping her of every shred of dignity.
Unable to bear the torment, she fled to her parents’ home, her voice raw with bitterness. “Why didn’t you drown me at birth if I was destined to be so wretched?” she wept. “You married me to a brute who chases every skirt in town, yet curses me for being too plain to hold his gaze. He beats me until I fear for my life.” Her parents, helpless in the face of her misery, could only offer hollow platitudes: “Daughter, you have made your bed. Keep your head down and endure.” But Chunlian’s heart had hardened; she saw Lin Fu now as a creature incapable of mercy.
One morning, while the sky was still a pale wash of grey, Chunlian rose to light the kitchen fire. Xu Da, a local ne’er-do-well, happened to pass by with his water buckets. Seeing her alone in the silence, a sly grin crept across his face. “Chunlian,” he called out, his voice smooth as oil, “you’re up with the lark. Is that husband of yours still snoring? Why not come to my place for a bowl of hot soup to warm your bones?”
“Is there anyone else in the house?” she asked, her guard lowering.
“Who would there be?” Xu Da replied. “Just a bachelor in an empty room.”
Chunlian, shallow and easily swayed, found his words falling on fertile ground. The memory of her husband’s cruelty was a fresh wound, and with a strange lightness in her chest, she followed him. Delighted, Xu Da bolted the door, and they tumbled into bed, sealing a fate that would soon unravel them both.
By the time they parted, the sun was high. Returning home was impossible. Xu Da hid Chunlian inside, locked the door, and sauntered off to ply his trade, returning only when darkness had swallowed the street.
When Lin Fu finally rose to find his wife gone and the door gaping open to the chill morning air, a grim suspicion settled over him. She must have run off, he thought. He scoured the neighborhood, but found not a trace. Desperate, he pasted notices about town and went to inform his father-in-law, Fang Li.
The old man’s reaction was volcanic. “My daughter was never welcome in your house!” he thundered. “She came to me weeping, telling me how you tortured her. You didn’t lose her—you beat her to death! You’ve hidden her corpse and now spin tales of her escape. I will see you in court, Lin Fu. I will have justice for my daughter’s ghost, or I will die trying.”
Fang Li wasted no time. He drafted a plaint that was a howl of grief and presented it to Prefect Tang. The document was a masterpiece of accusation:
A plea against the perversion of moral law: To loathe a wife for her plainness is worse than a beast. My daughter, Chunlian, was wed with all proper rites to Lin Fu. Yet this man, driven by lust and malice, flogged and cursed her without cease. Now, in a fit of murderous rage, he has beaten her to death. Fearing exposure, he has hidden her corpse and falsely claims she ran away. But where are the witnesses? Our town teems with people; had she eloped, could there truly be no trace? My daughter had tiny bound feet that made walking a torment. After days of silence, the truth is plain—she was murdered. Her innocent soul wanders in eternal darkness while I beg for a life for a life.Magistrate Tang accepted the petition and dispatched bailiffs to arrest Lin Fu.
Meanwhile, Xu Da caught wind of the legal storm brewing between the Lin and Fang families. Panic gnawed at him. He returned home and whispered to Chunlian, “I hoped to keep you a while longer, but your father has dragged your husband to court. If they come searching and find you here, we are doomed. We must fly far away, to a place where no one knows our names.”
Chunlian agreed at once. Under the cover of darkness, they gathered what valuables they could carry and slipped into the night.
They traveled hard, living rough, until the imposing walls of Yunnan’s provincial capital rose before them. By then, their pockets were empty. Xu Da’s face fell as he looked at their meager surroundings. “We are strangers here,” he said, despair creeping into his voice. “Not a soul to turn to, and not enough silver for a meal. What, in heaven’s name, are we going to do now?”
But Chunlian, shallow and morally unmoored, showed no sign of distress. “Don’t trouble yourself over food or clothes,” she said lightly. “If I am willing to sell this body of mine, it will be more than enough to keep you comfortable.” Xu Da, seeing no better path forward, readily assented. And so, Chunlian became a prostitute. Taking the name Su’e, she set herself up in a rented room, painting her face and waiting by the door. Word soon spread among the idle young roués of the town that a stunning new beauty had arrived in the pleasure quarters, and they flocked to her in droves. From that point on, money was no object.
Not long after Chunlian vanished, local elders reported that a woman’s corpse had been fished from a well within the district. The magistrate ordered an immediate inquest. The coroner’s examination confirmed the remains to be none other than the concubine of You Zihua, the Guangdong merchant. But old Fang Li, hearing the news, rushed to the scene without pausing to look closely. He threw himself upon the body and wailed, “This is she! This is my daughter! Just as I told you—that monstrous son-in-law of mine beat her to death and threw her into this well!” He wept and implored the magistrate to put Lin Fu to the torture without delay.
Prefect Tang summoned Lin Fu to the tribunal and barked, “Did you beat your wife to death and hide her corpse in a well? Confess!”
Lin Fu fell to his knees, crying out his innocence. “Your Honour, look closely, I beg you! Yes, the body in the well is a woman, but neither her clothes nor her features match my wife’s. My wife is older; this woman is young. My wife is tall; this one is short and slight. My wife’s hair was thick and long; this woman’s hair is thin and cropped. How can you pin a stranger’s death on me? I beseech you, see the truth!”
But Fang Li only wept louder, his voice cracking with theatrical grief. “Don’t listen to his lies, Your Honour! Examine the wounds! You will see exactly how my daughter was beaten to death!”
Swayed by the old man’s tears, the prefect ordered the torturers to work. Lin Fu, a simple man with a low threshold for pain, soon broke. Under the excruciating agony of the press, he confessed to a murder he never committed. The case was considered closed, the verdict written up, and Lin Fu was thrown into the dungeons to await the final review that would seal his fate.
As the year drew to a close, the legendary Lord Bao was traveling through the empire on imperial orders, rooting out injustice wherever he went. When his retinue arrived at the prefectural seat and he began reviewing the case files, the trial of Lin Fu caught his attention immediately. Something in the testimony rang false. Lord Bao let out a long, troubled sigh. “I have been sent to uncover hidden wrongs,” he said, “and this case reeks of an injustice I cannot ignore.”
Turning to his aides, he explained, “This Fang Chunlian was, by all accounts, a wanton woman. Such women rarely choose death over dishonour. Even if her husband beat her, she would be far more likely to run away than to end her life. It is almost certain she has been abducted.” He then issued an unusual order: bring him every missing-person notice currently posted throughout the district.
The notices were gathered and spread before him. Lord Bao leafed through them, his eyes moving slowly across the paper. Then he stopped. In his hand was the faded notice You Zihua had posted for his missing concubine. He read the description of her clothing and appearance. It matched the corpse in the well in every detail. He ordered that You Zihua be found and brought to testify, but the merchant had long since returned to Zhejiang and was beyond reach. Yet Lord Bao could not let the matter rest. He knew Lin Fu had been wrongfully convicted. How could he not find a way to set it right?
That night, in the quiet of his study, the judge lit a stick of incense and prayed silently to the spirit of the city. The truth of Chunlian’s disappearance eludes me, he confessed to the unseen world. I beg the gods to reveal what I cannot see.
Whether by divine will or simple chance, fate answered swiftly. The very next day, a clerk from Lord Bao’s own yamen, a man named Tang Wan, was dispatched to Yunnan on official business. The journey was long and dusty, and when he arrived in the provincial capital, he delivered his documents and settled into lodgings at the relay station to await the official reply. Days passed with tedious slowness. To while away the time, he listened to the gossip of the town and soon heard talk of a new courtesan who had recently arrived—a woman of extraordinary grace and beauty, known by the name of Su’e. Intrigued, Tang Wan found his way to her door.
The moment he saw her face, a shock of familiarity jolted through him. He studied her carefully. “Where are you from?” he asked. “How is it you’ve ended up here, in this line of work?”
The woman sighed, a touch of stage melancholy in her voice. “I was a respectable married woman once,” she said. “But my husband beat me without mercy, day after day. I couldn’t bear it any longer, so I ran. Without money or food, I had no choice. This is how I survive.”
Tang Wan fixed his gaze on her. “Your accent,” he said slowly, “it sounds like home. And your face… you look exactly like the wife of my neighbour, Lin Fu.”
The colour drained from the woman’s face, then flooded back in a violent blush. Her eyes darted away, unable to meet his. Cornered, she stammered out the whole truth, confessing everything that had happened. “It was Xu Da, a neighbour, who brought me here,” she finished, her voice pleading. “Please, as a fellow townsman, I beg you—don’t reveal my secret. Keep it hidden, and I will repay you however you wish. I won’t charge you a single coin.”
Tang Wan smiled and pretended to agree. “The two of you can rest easy,” he said smoothly. “I’ll come back for another visit tomorrow. When I finally return home, you have my word—I won’t breathe a word about any of this.” With that, he took his leave.
But back at his lodgings, Tang Wan’s mind was in turmoil. “Such a monstrous injustice!” he murmured to himself, pacing the room. “Lin Fu is my neighbour, and he’s rotting in a cage, condemned for a murder that never happened.” He felt he could sprout wings and fly home that very instant with the news.
The moment he received his return dispatch, Tang Wan set out. He traveled as if pursued by demons. The instant he arrived home, he laid the entire story before Lin Fu—how Chunlian had been seduced and stolen away by Xu Da, and how she was now living as a prostitute in the provincial capital of Yunnan.
Armed with this ironclad evidence, Lin Fu drafted a new petition and presented it directly to Lord Bao. The judge issued warrants on the spot. He ordered bailiffs, accompanied by Tang Wan, to ride with all haste to the Yunnan capital. Within days, Chunlian and Xu Da were dragged back in chains to stand before the tribunal. Lord Bao conducted his examination in open court, and the full truth poured forth at last.
His judgment was swift and precise. Fang Chunlian was to be sold at auction by the state; the proceeds of the sale would go to Lin Fu to fund a new marriage. Xu Da was sentenced to penal exile and hard labour. Fang Li, for his false accusation, was to receive the punishment his son-in-law would have suffered had his lies succeeded. Lin Fu was declared innocent and released from prison that very day. As for Tang Wan, Lord Bao awarded him three taels of official silver in recognition of his righteous conduct.
The judge’s written verdict read:
In the matter under review, it is found that Fang was a woman of wanton disposition and licentious conduct, repeatedly engaging in clandestine affairs. That her husband, hearing of her debauchery, should punish her with blows and curses was a thing both natural and proper. Yet this woman, far from showing remorse, hardened her heart and fled her marital home without a backward glance. Rising at dawn, she encountered Xu Da and concealed herself in his dwelling, where they gave themselves over to unrestrained lechery. Xu Da, a lowly water-carrier, a man of no breeding or consequence, seduced a susceptible woman with sweet words and then made his livelihood off her beauty. He thought he had found a peerless prize that eclipsed even noble rank; he failed to see that the crime of abducting a runaway wife would end in the misery of exile.
Fang Li, instead of reproaching the stains upon his own doorstep, accused an innocent son-in-law of depravity. He falsely charged a man with murder, claimed a hidden corpse, and mistook another man’s dead concubine for his own daughter’s body. He brought charges for a killing, yet the supposed victim was alive. He filed an accusation of concealing a corpse, yet the body was not hers. Falsehood may deceive for a season, but true crime cannot forever elude the law.
Let Lin Fu receive the sale-price of his former wife and take a new one. Let Tang Wan, for his meritorious service, be honoured with a reward. So recorded.When Lord Bao’s gavel fell for the last time, a murmur of astonishment and admiration rippled through the crowd that had gathered to hear the verdict. The people were utterly convinced, and his name was on every grateful tongue.
