Chapter 4: How Could He Possibly Still Be Alive?

“Ah, it’s nothing serious. My wife heard you were beset by an evil attack yesterday, so she made some congee and asked me to bring you some today.”

Wang Er said this to Li Chaosheng, and Li Chaosheng quickly cupped his hands and replied, “Thank you so much, Brother Er and Sister-in-law, for your kindness.”

“Ah, it’s nothing, it’s nothing. But Brother Li just said ‘freeloader’? What’s that supposed to mean?” Wang Er asked curiously.

He’d never heard the term before and it sounded novel. Li Chaosheng laughed and said, “You were talking about Changchun Court, the brothel? Getting wine and women for a night without spending a single dime, that’s being a freeloader. Think about it more carefully, Brother Er, think about it!”

“A night of pleasure without spending a coin? Freeloader… Indeed, what a term. How incisive, how incisive. Brother Li truly is a man who’s attended private school. That was amusingly put, hahaha…”

Wang Er suddenly understood and couldn’t help praising loudly.

Even people at the county gate all knew Li Chaosheng had studied as a child, and the matter had even produced a not-so-small joke.

When Li Chaosheng was young he was adopted by a foster father, who initially didn’t want him to inherit the family’s trade. So the foster father pulled some strings and secretly sent him to a private school, planning that once Li Chaosheng made a name for himself he’d sever their father-son ties and have him adopted by a farming family, thus freeing himself from the artisan identity he would otherwise pass on. Maybe Li Chaosheng could even pass the public service exam or something.

But Li Chaosheng disappointed those hopes: as soon as he entered the school he stumped the old teacher. The teacher was teaching arithmetic and posed the classic problem, “There are chickens and rabbits in the same cage, in total 35 heads and 94 feet. How many chickens and how many rabbits are there in the cage?”

This problem came from the Sunzi Arithmetic Classic. The old teacher himself had only memorized methods and didn’t understand the deeper solution, so he posed the question to cut down Li Chaosheng’s arrogance. Li Chaosheng had been acting as if the old man couldn’t teach him, so the old man set this tough problem hoping he’d admit defeat and obediently pay attention during lessons.

But when the question was posed, Li Chaosheng unrolled his brush and ink and within moments produced the answer: 12 rabbits and 23 chickens.

The old teacher was stunned because the answer was correct. He asked Li Chaosheng how he calculated it. Li Chaosheng smiled faintly and recited a string of words the teacher couldn’t understand, something about rabbits being ‘each one dies’, chickens ‘dying crooked’, so ‘each one dies plus dying crooked equals thirty-five’… (Li Chaosheng was using algebra; X in Chinese sounds like ‘each one dies’ and Y sounds like ‘dies crooked’.)

The old teacher’s moustache even twitched, a sign of utter incomprehension. What angered him most was that when he looked baffled, Li Chaosheng shook his head and said, “This child cannot be taught!”

The old man was so furious he suffered a stroke and fainted. When he came to, he went to Li Chaosheng’s foster father and insisted on returning Li Chaosheng, saying the boy had no respect for teachers. “I’m over sixty and even the county magistrate pays me deference, but your brat actually pointed at me and said ‘this child cannot be taught’…”

The old man valued face more than life itself. Those words hurt him more than digging up his ancestors’ graves. “I became a scholar at fifteen and have been one for more than 40 years! How dare he say ‘this child cannot be taught’? Absurd… shameless!”

The foster father pleaded his case but couldn’t convince the old man, so he took Li Chaosheng back and gave him a sound beating. After that he abandoned the idea of sending Li Chaosheng to school, perhaps out of exhaustion, perhaps for other reasons.

In any case, he began teaching Li Chaosheng the executioner’s trade. Learning to be an executioner was hard. The training didn’t start with beheading but with cutting melons. A big winter melon would be bought and secured, and Li Chaosheng told to crack it with chops. After six months of practice, when he could split a melon in one blow, they moved on to the next stage: building courage by seeing blood and killing.

At that time the household kept small rabbits and chickens. Training started by killing those little creatures. Once he understood killing, they moved on to larger animals like pigs and sheep. After slaughtering pigs and sheep until proficient, they returned to theoretical instruction.

The foster father would dig up corpses from mass graves at midnight and use the dead to explain the anatomy of the human neck, having Li Chaosheng feel the corpse’s throat.

He told Li Chaosheng that the cervical bones are very hard, able to resist knife and axe blows, and that an executioner must never deliver a second cut, otherwise the condemned will suffer and the executioner will face the condemnation of conscience and the gods. Therefore, when beheading one must be precise: one cut, two halves; never sloppy. To achieve that, one must fully understand the structure of the neck bones.

When beheading, you must strike at the gap between two cervical bones. There is only a layer of cartilage and membrane there. If you hit that spot, the blade needn’t be very fast to sever the head.

Human necks vary in a thousand strange ways. An executioner needed sharp eyes to find the easiest spot to strike under extremely complicated conditions.

This included knowledge of different neck types: the easiest was the long, slender neck. White and tender, the kind nobles call a ‘swan neck’. To an executioner it’s worthless: nice to look at, but not sturdy!

What gave executioners the most trouble was the short, thick neck that was usually on fat, robust men where the neck may be invisible. That really tested an executioner’s skill, and many failures came from encountering this difficult sort of neck.

So the foster father told Li Chaosheng to love whatever trade he took up, to contemplate everything, to study and observe more. While others on the street looked around for merriment, an executioner liked to follow behind people and stare at the backs of their necks, studying where to deliver the quickest cut.

Thus when ordinary people walked with an executioner, someone like Wang Er, he would never walk in front of Li Chaosheng, fearing Li Chaosheng would study his neck. What he didn’t know was that Li Chaosheng had already worked it out: Wang Er’s neck was easiest to strike between the third and fourth vertebrae…

Li Chaosheng drank the congee Wang Er brought, and Wang Er took his leave, telling Li Chaosheng to get some rest. He came and left in a hurry and didn’t even go inside. Even if he had, Li Chaosheng would have stopped him because there was still a human head on the floor, and that would be hard to explain.

After sending Wang Er off, Li Chaosheng returned inside and tidied up. First he picked up that severed head, wrapped it in the lotus leaf they used for yesterday’s roast chicken, and while the morning was still quiet, he took it to a mass grave two miles from the city and buried it.

As he buried it, Li Chaosheng cursed, because this too broke custom. Executioners had an unwritten rule: ‘we control the killing, not the burying.’ Both killing and burying? That was unseemly. But there was no choice. He couldn’t have a head living with him every day, could he?

After burying the head, Li Chaosheng returned home, gathered the broken ceramics and tossed them on a rubbish heap, drew well water and scrubbed the floor until the whole place seemed brand new. As for the smashed teapot and bowls, he’d replace them when he had time.

With everything in order, Li Chaosheng tossed his little turtle into the copper basin used for washing faces. It was both the turtle’s home and Li Chaosheng’s washbasin, very well used. The turtle had likely been frightened and hid all night, it only came out when Li Chaosheng changed its water. Seeing the turtle’s cautious look, Li Chaosheng couldn’t help scolding it, “They say you’re long-lived, but you’re really just a creature with great survival instincts! Yesterday, despite being in such danger you didn’t help me? You’re so unfilial!”

The turtle blinked its pea-sized eyes and stared at Li Chaosheng without a sound. Li Chaosheng snorted with laughter. He must be out of his mind to expect the damn turtle to apologize. What a joke!

Li Chaosheng put the basin outside. The turtle was well treated: every morning when the sun rose Li Chaosheng took it out to bask. Li Chaosheng changed into a clean scholar’s robe and headed to the magistrate’s office. He had, after all, attended private school for a few days and liked the scholar’s look, which was why the county magistrate favored him.

The county magistrate of this county was a genuine degree holder who passed both levels of the imperial exams, unlike those who bought rank, and he liked scholars. Li Chaosheng had gained the magistrate’s favor and acquaintance partly because, though an executioner, he dressed like a scholar and had attended a private school. As the magistrate put it, “Though this man is a butcher, he was once a disciple of the sages, so he deserves a little more respect.”

Having studied was a mark of superiority in this society: all else was lowly, only education was exalted. That was a saying with real force here.

Li Chaosheng dressed and went to the office. Upon arrival, the clerk was chatting with the head of the patrol. When he turned and saw Li Chaosheng, his expression changed and he immediately went to greet him. “Brother Li, you’ve come?”

Li Chaosheng nodded and said, “The county magistrate asked me to see him today.”

The clerk nodded and said, “Wait here, I’ll report it to the Master.”

“Thank you, Second Master.”

‘Second Master’ was the respectful title for the clerks at the magistrate’s office. Since the county magistrate was addressed as ‘Master’ and the clerk was his second-in-command, he was then ‘Second Master’.

The clerk ran into the inner court to report. The magistrate was in his study reading, but in an odd mood. He was distractedly muttering, “I’ve caused trouble for Brother Li… I promised him retirement from the blade and yet this happened. It’s my poor judgment, it’s my fault alone. Sigh…”

As the magistrate sighed, the clerk rushed in, “Your Honour, Li Chaosheng requests an audience outside!”

“Who?”

The magistrate paused and turned to ask, so the clerk added, “Executioner Li Chaosheng requests to see you.”

“Ah! He—how could he possibly still be alive!!”

The magistrate gasped in astonishment!