home

search

The Examination of the City God(Kǎo Chénghuáng)II

  The paper effigy of Song Mingde trembled as it lifted the medicine bowl, its warped reflection rippling in the celadon glaze. Beneath the porcelain’s surface, the embroidered xiezhi on his judge’s robes flickered like a drowning beast. Yunniang stirred the fifth dose of herbs in the courtyard, oblivious to the cinnabar glow staining her husband’s fingertip—each stir of the ladle left vermilion traces in the broth, as though he dipped his hand in liquid sunset.

  When the City God’s bell tolled the seventh hour, paper joints rasped like cicada wings against the deathbed quilt. Song Mingde’s paper fingers paused mid-adjustment as Yunniang’s voice pierced the gloom: “Where is the jade pendant carved with ‘Xiào Chuán Jiā’?” The question lingered unanswered, for that heirloom now anchored a scroll of wrongful deaths in the Netherworld’s archives—its weight pressing down the confession of a salt merchant’s murdered concubine.

  Hoarfrost crept across the seventh tribunal’s floor as Song Mingde’s soul-chains clinked. Before the bench knelt Chunying, her spectral throat encircled by bruise-dark silk. “The mistress used shīyóu-soaked satin,” the ghost whispered, tendrils of resentment coiling around the judge’s dais. The gavel fell with a crack that echoed through realms—across the veil, his mother’s life-lamp flared briefly, its oil level sinking like a drowning man’s final breath.

  In the false dawn’s pallor, ink-black ichor seeped from the torn seam at Song Mingde’s paper wrist. He reached to check his mother’s pulse, fingers brushing a hidden fragment of the Shengshibu. Chunying’s testimony now burned upon its surface: Thirty thousand silver taels vanished from Yangzhou’s salt tax. Seven lives shall balance the scales ere seven days pass.

  Mist clung to the courtyard stones as Yunniang passed the study, her arms laden with rain-damp linens. Through parted shutters leaked the salt broker’s sycophantic laughter: “Master Song’s prophecy holds true! Liu the Salt Merchant’s heart stopped mid-bite—” The crash of shattering porcelain interrupted. Peering through the gap, Yunniang saw her husband’s hand convulse upon the desk, the flesh splitting like rotten fruit to reveal the mulberry paper beneath.

  Twilight found Song Mingde ascending the City God’s temple steps, Liu’s confession folded against his thrumming chest. Guǐhuǒ bloomed blue along the stone path, their cold flames illuminating Chunying’s distorted visage. “Those silver ingots,” the ghost hissed, cadaverous fingers plucking at his robes, “were poured into molds still clutching scholars’ bones.”

  The storm raged as Song Mingde burst into the chamber, his paper arm crumbling like ash. Yunniang stood frozen, clutching the shattered porcelain bowl, its shards reflecting the ghastly truth—the life-lamp’s final flicker had extinguished, leaving behind a residue of crystalline salt that glinted like damned stars.

  Chunying’s spectral laughter echoed through the downpour. “Each grain you see,” the ghost whispered, her form dissolving into the tempest, “is a scholar’s scream trapped in brine.” Song Mingde staggered toward the bed, his mulberry-paper flesh peeling to reveal golden roots writhing beneath—the phoenix tree’s tendrils now pierced his collarbone, its leaves etched with his mother’s fevered murmurs.

  She lay motionless, yet her eyelids fluttered as if dreaming. When he grasped her hand, the Shengshibu fragment fell from his sleeve. Its surface rippled, revealing words written in congealed lamp oil: The blood-jade box… the truth beneath the Kitchen God…

  The salt merchant’s confession crumbled in his grip. Song Mingde tore open the ancestral shrine’s hidden compartment. There, wrapped in yellowed swaddling cloth, lay an infant’s jade pendant—the twin to his own lost heirloom. Its inscription glowed: Xiào Bù Bì Shùn Tiān. As his fingers closed around it, the xiezhi embroidered on his robes roared to life, its horn piercing the veil between realms.

  In the seventh tribunal’s frozen hall, the bull-headed judge’s gavel trembled. “You dare defile the Shengshibu?” The accusation shook the underworld, yet Song Mingde stood unyielding, the pendant’s light illuminating Chunying’s final testimony etched in air: Thirty thousand taels forged from seven scholars’ bones. Their names buried in salt, their souls bound to Liu’s ledger.

  The life-lamp’s base cracked open, pouring forth a river of blackened salt. Within the crystalline torrent floated his mother’s voice, thin yet unbroken: “De’er, the lamp’s oil was never my life—it was yours.”

  Annotations

  Paper effigy (zhǐrén): A spiritual substitute crafted from ritually-inscribed paper, animated by stolen life force.

  Xiezhi: Mythical justice-dispensing beast resembling a unicorn, said to gore the guilty with its single horn.

  Xiào Chuán Jiā: "Filial Piety Transmits Through Generations," a clan motto often engraved on ancestral jades.

  Shīyóu: Rendered from corpses left unburied under the full moon, used in darkest rituals.

  Shengshibu: The cosmic ledger where lifespan allocations are inscribed in golden ink by celestial clerks.

  Mulberry paper (sāngzhǐ): Sacred material for funerary objects, its fibers containing traces of silkworm rebirth symbolism.

  Guǐhuǒ: Will-o’-the-wisps believed to manifest where unresolved grievances fester.

  Life-lamp A mystical vessel holding a person’s remaining lifespan, its flame sustained by cosmic balance.

  Crystalline salt: Symbolizes both preservation and corruption, reflecting the dual nature of the salt merchants’ crimes.

  Mulberry-paper: Ritual material symbolizing the fragility of artificial life.

  Golden roots: Manifestation of the phoenix tree’s spiritual power, representing Song’s eroding humanity.

  Shengshibu : The Book of Life and Death, its entries written in golden ink by celestial scribes.

  Xiào Bù Bì Shùn Tiān : “Filial piety need not obey heaven,” a heretical doctrine challenging cosmic law.

  Xiezhi : A mythical beast embodying divine justice, often depicted in judicial iconography.

Recommended Popular Novels