Sandalwood Death (7 page)
In the tenth year of the Xianfeng Emperor, a eunuch called Little Insect audaciously pilfered His Majesty’s Seven Star fowling piece from the Imperial Armory, where he worked, and sold it. A tribute gift from the Russian Tsarina to the Emperor, it was no ordinary hunting rifle. It had a golden barrel, a silver trigger, and a sandalwood stock in which were inlaid seven diamonds, each the size of a peanut. It fired silver bullets that could bring down a phoenix from the sky and a unicorn on land. No fowling piece like it had graced the world since Pangu divided heaven from earth. The larcenous Little Insect, believing that the sickly Emperor was rapidly losing his faculties, impudently removed the piece from the armory and sold it for the reported price of three thousand silver ingots, which his father used to buy a tract of farmland. The poor delusional youngster forgot one basic principle: Anyone who becomes Emperor is, by definition, a dragon, a Son of Heaven. Has there even been a dragon, a Son of Heaven, who was not endowed with peerless wisdom? One who could not foretell everything under the sun? Emperor Xianfeng, a man of extraordinary mystical skills, could see and identify the tip of an animal’s autumn hair with dragon eyes that appeared normal during the day, but emitted such powerful rays of light when night fell that he needed no lamp to put brush to paper or to read a book. It was said that the Emperor planned a hunting expedition beyond the Great Wall and called for his Seven Star fowling piece. A panicky Little Insect made up bizarre explanations for why that was not possible: first an old fox with white fur had stolen it, then it was a magical hawk that had flown off with it. Emperor Xianfeng’s dragon mien turned red with anger, and He handed down an Imperial Edict, ordering that Little Insect be turned over to the Office of Palace Justice, which was responsible for disciplining eunuchs. The standard employment of interrogation tactics secured a confession from the miscreant, so angering His Majesty that golden flashes shot from His eyes. He jumped to His feet in the Hall of Golden Chimes and roared:
“Little Insect, We shit upon eight generations of your ancestors! Like the rat that licks the cat’s anus, you are an audacious fool. How dare you practice your thieving ways in Our home! If We do not make an example of you, We do not deserve to be Emperor!”
With that, Emperor Xianfeng decided that Little Insect would be subjected to a special punishment as a warning to all, and He called upon the Office of Palace Justice to read him a list, not unlike a menu for an Imperial meal. Officials presented all the punishments used in the past for the Emperor’s selection: flogging, crushing, suffocating, quartering, dismemberment, and more. After hearing them out, the Emperor shook His head and said, “Ordinary, too common. Like stale, spoiled leftovers. No,” He said, “you must seek advice from the experts in the Board of Punishments to provide an appropriate punishment.” On the very night that His Excellency, President of the Board of Punishments Wang, received the Imperial Edict, he went looking for Grandma Yu.
Who was Grandma Yu? you ask. My mentor, that’s who. A man, of course. So why do I call him Grandma? Listen, and I will tell you. It is a reference peculiar to our profession. Four executioners are listed in the Board of Punishments register. The oldest, most senior, and most accomplished among them is Grandma. Next in line, ranked by seniority and skills, are First Aunt, Second Aunt, and Young Aunt. During the busy months, when there is more work than they can handle, outside helpers are taken on, and they are called nephews. I started out as a nephew and gradually worked my way up to Grandma. Easy? No, by no means. I served the Board of Punishments as Grandma for thirty years. Presidents and Vice Presidents came and went, but only I remained as tall and sturdy as Mt. Tai. People may despise our profession, but once someone joins its ranks, he looks down on all people, in the same way that you look down on pigs and dogs.
To continue, His Excellency, Board President Wang, summoned Grandma Yu and me, your father, to his official document room. I, barely twenty that year, had been elevated from Second Aunt to First Aunt, an unprecedented promotion and a display of great Imperial favor.
“Xiaojiazi,” Grandma Yu said to me, “your shifu did not ascend to First Aunt until he was over forty, while you, young scamp that you are, have reached the plateau of First Aunt at the age of twenty. Like sorghum in the sixth month, you have shot upward.”
But that is talk for another time.
“His Imperial Majesty has issued an edict to the Board of Punishments to provide a special, even unique, punishment for a eunuch who stole a fowling piece,” Board President Wang said. “You are the experts, so give this your full attention. We do not want to disappoint His Imperial Majesty or show this Board in a bad light.”
A sound like a moan emerged from Grandma Yu’s mouth.
“Excellency,” he said after a moment, “your humble servant opines that His Imperial Majesty loathes Little Insect because he has eyes but does not see. We must therefore carry out the Emperor’s will.”
“How true,” Board President Wang said. “What do you have in mind? Tell me quick.”
“There is a punishment,” Grandma Yu said, “known as Yama’s Hoop, named after the doorway to the King of Hell’s realm. Another name for it is Two Dragons Sport with Pearls. I wonder if it might be appropriate.”
“Tell me about it.”
So Grandma Yu described Yama’s Hoop in detail, and when he was finished, His Excellency beamed in delight.
“Go make preparations,” he said, “while I seek permission from His Imperial Majesty.”
To which Grandma Yu replied, “The construction of Yama’s Hoop is a burdensome task. The iron hoop alone is a unique challenge. It can be neither very hard nor too soft. Only the finest wrought iron, repeatedly fired and hammered, will do, and there is no blacksmith anywhere in the capital who is up to the task. Will His Excellency approve a delay of several days, giving me and my apprentice time to make it ourselves? We of course have no adequate tools or facilities and must somehow make do. Will His Excellency favor us with a bit of silver to purchase what we need?”
Wang sneered.
“Don’t you receive enough income by selling cured human flesh for medicinal purposes?”
Grandma Yu fell to his knees, and naturally I, your father, followed.
“Nothing escapes His Excellency’s eyes,” Grandma Yu said. “But constructing Yama’s Hoop serves the public good . . .”
“Get up,” Wang said. “I’ll see that you are given two hundred ounces of silver, one hundred for each—master and apprentice—but you must spare no effort in the service of perfection. I will tolerate no shoddy work. Throughout history, from dynasty to dynasty, generation upon generation, the discipline and punishment of eunuchs has been the responsibility of the Office of Palace Justice. For the Emperor to deliver this case to the Board of Punishments is unprecedented, a manifestation of the trust and high regard His Imperial Majesty has in us. We could ask no higher honor! It is incumbent upon you to take great care in this enterprise. If it is performed well enough to please the Emperor, our future is bright. If not, if His Imperial Majesty is displeased, our Board will be in for bad times, and that will provide a moment for your dog heads to find a new place to perch.”
Grandma Yu and I accepted this glorious task with trepidation, though we were delighted to receive the silver, which we took to Smithy Lane south of the Temple of National Protection in search of a shop capable of fabricating a hoop to our specifications. Once that was done, we went to Mule Avenue, where we bought several untanned cowhides and hired someone to turn them into leather straps to affix to the iron hoop. In all, we spent a grand total of four ounces of silver, with a hundred ninety-six ounces left over, twenty ounces of which we used to buy a gold bracelet for Board President Wang’s concubine, whom he had installed in Jingling Lane. From the remaining one hundred seventy-six ounces, we gave six each to Second Aunt and Third Aunt. We kept the rest, a hundred for Grandma and seventy for me, your father. I brought that back to our hometown and bought this house, marrying your mother while I was at it. If the eunuch Little Insect had not stolen the Emperor’s fowling piece, I would never have had enough to buy a house or get married. And without a wife, you would not have been born. And if I had missed out on the opportunity to have a son, there would never be a daughter-in-law in this house. Now you understand why I feel it is important to tell you about the Little Insect affair. There are root causes for everything that happens. The theft of a fowling piece by Little Insect is the root cause of your existence.
Excellency Wang, who was on pins and needles the day before the punishment was to be carried out, ordered that a prisoner awaiting decapitation be taken from the condemned cell and brought to his audience hall as a subject on whom we were to practice our technique. We did as we were told, affixing the iron hoop over the poor man’s head.
“Laoye!” the man screamed. “Laoye, I did not commit the unforgivable act of retracting my confession, I did not. Why are you doing this to me?”
“All for the sake of the Emperor,” Excellency Wang declared. “Begin!”
From start to finish, the punishment lasted no longer than it takes to smoke a pipeful of tobacco. The man’s head split open, and he died as his brains spilled out.
“That was impressive,” Wang declared, “but he died too quickly. His Imperial Majesty went to the trouble of allowing us to choose a method of execution that will inflict maximum suffering on Little Insect. A death of utter anguish will serve as a trenchant warning to all palace eunuchs. So what do we get from you? You placed the hoop on the man’s head, tightened it, and poof, it was over. Strangling a rabbit takes more time than that. Is that the best you can manage? I demand that you slow the process down, make it last at least two hours. It must be more enjoyable than a stage play. You know that the palace supports troupes that employ thousands of actors who have performed every play in existence. I expect Little Insect’s body to be drained of fluids and for you two to work up a mighty sweat in the process. That is the only way this Board and the punishment you call Yama’s Hoop can gain the reputation they deserve.”
Excellency Wang then ordered that a second condemned prisoner be brought over for us to practice on. The head of this particular man was the size of a willow basket, almost too big for the hoop, which we struggled to affix to his head, inept like coopers, greatly displeasing His Excellency.
“That little toy is what I get for two hundred ounces of silver?”
Sweat oozed from my pores at his comment. But Grandma Yu appeared not to let it bother him, although he later told me he was quaking from fear. Our performance this time was a distinct improvement, as we drew it out for a full two hours, inflicting untold anguish on the pitiful man with the big head before he died. That earned a smile from His Excellency. With an eye on the two corpses laid out in the center of the audience hall, he said:
“Go ahead, get everything ready. Replace the bloodstained leather straps, clean the hoop, and add a coat of varnish. Be sure to clean the garments you plan to wear, so His Majesty and His court followers will see that the executioners attached to the Board of Punishments are a refined lot. There may be many ways of putting it, but in simplest terms, only success matters. You will not fail! If there is the slightest flaw in your performance, casting the Board in a poor light, you will experience Yama’s Hoop from a more personal angle.”
We rose at second cockcrow the next morning and set to making our preparations. Our minds were filled with the gravity of performing a palace execution, making sleep impossible. Even Grandma Yu, who had weathered many storms, tossed and turned all night, getting out of bed every hour or so to take the urinal down from the windowsill and empty his bladder, then sitting down to smoke. Second and Third Aunts busied themselves lighting the stove and preparing breakfast, while I concentrated on subjecting Yama’s Hoop to a meticulous inspection. After convincing myself that it was in flawless condition, I handed it to Grandma Yu for one final inspection. He rubbed his hand over every inch of the device, nodded his approval, and wrapped it in a three-foot length of red silk before reverently laying it on the Patriarch’s altar. The Patriarch of our profession is Gao Tao, a sagely eminence from the period of the Three Kings and Five Emperors, who nearly succeeded the legendary Yu on the Imperial Throne. Many of the punishments in use and the penal codes honored today originated with him. My shifu told me that our Patriarch needed no knife to dispatch a victim—by staring at the victim’s neck and slowly rolling his eyes, he could make the man’s head fall to the ground on its own. Ancestor Gao Tao had phoenix eyes, brows like reclining silkworms, a face the color of a jujube, eyes as bright as stars, and three handsome tufts of whiskers on his chin. He bore an uncanny resemblance to the warrior Guan Gong of the Three Kingdoms period. “The truth is,” Grandma Yu said, “Guan Gong was a reincarnation of Gao Tao.”
Following a hurried breakfast, we rinsed our mouths, cleaned our teeth, and washed our faces. Second and Third Aunts helped us into our new court attire and placed red felt caps on our heads.
“Shifu, Elder Apprentice, you look like bridegrooms,” Third Aunt complimented us.
Grandma Yu gave him a stern look, showing his displeasure with the comment. One of the conventions of our profession is a proscription against silly or foolish words before or during an execution. Any violation of that taboo can summon the ghosts of wronged victims or evil spirits. You often see little spinning dust devils in the marketplace. What do you think they are? They are caused not by wind, but by the spirits of those who were put to death unjustly.
Grandma Yu took a bundle of prized sandalwood incense from a willow case, gently extracted three sticks, lit them from the flickering candle on the Patriarch’s altar, and inserted them into the incense burner. He went down on his knees, followed hastily by his three assistants. Grandma began muttering softly:
“Patriarch, Patriarch, today we will carry out our task in the palace, with enormous consequences. Your offspring ask for your protection and guidance in the proper performance of our duties, and for that we kowtow to you.”
