Chapter 42: A Murder

In the prison, inmates were responsible for distributing food, with four people carrying the food; two in front with a basin of bowls and utensils, and two behind with a bucket, one wielding a large ladle.

Everyone rushed to the wooden bars, and Zhu Ying, conforming to local customs, joined in.

Standing in front of the wooden railing, she understood why even the previously stoic middle-aged man and the confident scholarly man had charged through the barriers like whirlwinds!

The one carrying the basin placed it in front of the wooden railing first. Several hands reached through the gaps in the railing to grab bowls and chopsticks. After the bowls were taken, the one with the bucket arrived, and the person with the ladle scooped a spoonful of a mushy mixture of vegetables and mixed grains into any bowl that was extended towards the railing.

Some prisoners who had good relations took care of their "cellmates," managing to scoop more of the solids, but for most, it was just that one bowl!

The person who devised the method of not letting prisoners eat too much was indeed clever.

The key to maintaining stability in prison is to keep prisoners fed enough not to starve but not full enough to have the energy to cause trouble or contemplate escape.

Zhu Ying followed their lead, securing a bowl and a pair of chopsticks. With chopsticks perched in her mouth and half her face still uncomfortably hot, she didn’t immediately contest the scant spoonful of food given to her by a fellow inmate. Leaning against the wall, she prepared to eat.

Most prisoners either squat or sit on communal bedding to eat their single bowl of food, quickly finishing it in the hope of possibly getting a second helping if any leftovers remain. Zhu Ying, handling her bowl and chopsticks, found the meal surprisingly acceptable, not spoiled, with beans settled at the bottom and a couple of vegetable leaves floating in the broth. Though not thoroughly cooked, it was edible and even had a hint of salt.

Just as she started eating, someone brought in two large food containers. Despite the tightly sealed containers, many could still sense the deliciousness inside. Zhu Ying paused, her gaze following the containers to where a jailer carried them into a more secluded section.

Zhu Ying surmised that area must house high-risk prisoners. What kind of inmate would receive such quality meals?

A scholarly-looking man, having finished his meal, joined her, commenting on the apparent luxury some prisoners enjoyed, attainable only through significant expenditure.

“Do you know about this, Uncle Wen?” Zhu Ying inquired, intrigued.

The scholar explained that those inside had money. The cost wasn’t just for the meals but also for bribes. In this jail, with enough money and the right connections, one could even have courtesans for the night. However, he doubted Zhu Ying could afford such extravagance.

He sized up Zhu Ying, glanced at the bearded man, and said, "Does your family have some money? I'm afraid it might not be enough. How about this: you tell me what you're in for, and I help you get out. You just need to thank me with some silver."

Zhu Ying, holding her bowl, eyed him warily, "You're still in here yourself... What do you do?"

Pan Bao, having finished his first bowl, leaned in and said, "Him? A litigious trickster! He conned my family into sending him ten guan, and he's done nothing to clear my name!"

Lao Hu, who had also finished a bowl, waiting in front of the fence for more food, added for Zhu Ying's benefit, "He promised me too!"

The scholarly man exclaimed, "Pah! You two! Haven't I helped? Old Hu, those two people you killed, their families wailing at the courthouse every day. One was an only child, his parents relentless, insisting if they couldn't get to your master, they'd demand your life. The other, a wife with a child left husbandless, how could she let it go? I told you to keep a low profile in prison, don't draw attention. Taking the route through Judge Wang, claiming your home has only your aged mother and you as the sole son to care for her, saved your life. With just another note from your master, the matter was settled, yet you refuse to behave!"

He also scolded Pan Bao, "And you, I told you to claim she seduced you, offering to make you her concubine, so she wouldn't be a servant to another woman anymore. A servant girl, who knows how many have slept with her, trying to pin it on you. That woman alone, also planning to trap you, you couldn't contain your fury and ended up hitting her on the head during the argument. You, with your eyes practically undressing that girl in front of the magistrate, did you think he was blind?! And you hit that old woman, she's dead, do you know that? If you had just played the part of a good man in front of the magistrate early on, you would have been released by now, and her death wouldn't be on you. Now you've gotten yourself stuck inside, and you blame me? I only took ten silver coins from you!"

After finishing, he sighed deeply, "How did I end up with you two treasures? Ruining my reputation!"

Then he said to Zhu Ying, "Young master, don't follow their example. See, my advice is sound; it's all because they're imprudent! Just listen to me, for ten silver coins, I guarantee to reduce your sentence from two years to one, and for one year of servitude, you'll only receive twenty lashes. Add another ten silver coins, and you can be released on the spot. How about it?"

Not how about it.

Zhu Ying asked, "What about that person inside, what crime did he commit? Can you get him off too?"

"Him?" The scholarly man said disdainfully, "He doesn't need me! He's got someone powerful backing him. Hmph! You couldn't commit his crimes even if you tried! Bullying men and women, seizing farmers' land, torturing servants, assaulting and disabling people—he's done it all! Some with his own hands, some by ordering his servants, like Old Hu did for his master. If it wasn't for the magistrate finding out about the servant's death this time and getting the evidence, we couldn't have brought him in. Just wait, in a few days, he'll be out, just a matter of a letter."

If they take ninety-five acres out of a hundred, leaving you five to keep from starving, the crime seems minor, but it changes the rest of your life. Or say, if they seize your shop, forcing your whole family into destitution, forcing you to sell yourself into servitude, it's not their fault—it's your family's for degrading themselves.

None of the crimes directly cause death, but each is aimed right at the livelihood.

Without a high person's guidance, or if one isn't savvy on their own, these are deeds one must never commit.

It seemed the scholarly man wouldn't be making any money off this venture.

The scholarly man pressed Zhu Ying, "Well? If you don't have the means to get a petition, it's twenty guan. Trust me, if I weren't capable, why would the Minor Prefect have had me arrested?"

Zhu Ying understood: he was arrested for monopolizing lawsuits. Litigious tricksters have always been despised by the government. The more upright the official, the more they detest such individuals.

Lao Hu shouted, "Shut up!"

The prisoner distributing food came back, and Lao Hu, the weary middle-aged man, and Pan Bao each got another half bowl. The scholarly man hurriedly extended his bowl, "Wang Wu, give me some, quick!"

…………——

Zhu Ying didn't rush forward; she had barely touched her food, the thin broth almost reflecting her face.

For corrupt officials and those enslaving private individuals, the punishment is ninety lashes; for the strong, add one degree.

For all who are sentenced to death, not among the ten abominations, but who have elderly grandparents or parents with chronic illnesses to care for, and no adult male relatives in the family, an appeal is required.

For slaves who commit crimes, if their masters kill them without appealing to the officials, the punishment is one hundred lashes; if killed without cause, the sentence is one year of penal servitude.

Enslaving a servant warrants merely a beating.

Claiming there is no one at home and that grandparents or parents are elderly and ill requiring care may exempt one from the death penalty.

Killing a servant on one's own initiative results in one year of penal servitude, and claiming the servant was at fault results in beatings. If explained in advance to the authorities, these punishments can be avoided.

The above offenses are redeemable.

Yet, you refuse to abide by even such laws.

Zhu Ying wonders, what more do you want?

Just a casual mention by Zhou You, and she was sent to the government office; a dislike from someone, and she was sent back. Another displeasure, and she was thrown into the major prison.

What more do you want?

Zhu Ying, holding her bowl, sidesteps to avoid Pan Bao's encroaching face, leaving him grasping at air. Pan Bao steps closer again, still unable to reach her. Smiling, Pan Bao says, "Hey, don't be stingy, come on, you haven't eaten much, I've got some more here, let me share some with you!"

He sucks on the tip of his chopsticks with a sizzling sound, offering his bowl to Zhu Ying with one hand while poised to act with the other.

Zhu Ying stretches her toe forward, and as Pan Bao lunges, she steps back and then spins around to run.

Pan Bao laughs, chopsticks in mouth, his speech muffled by saliva, "Quite amusing, huh!" He suddenly strides forward to chase!

Zhu Ying, watching his pace, uses his figure to block others' view and flicks her hand downward. Pan Bao steps on a piece of vegetable, slips dramatically, and his bowl flies out of his hand, crashing against the wall. The half-bowl of soup and beans splatter against the wall, then trickle down. The wooden bowl hits the wall with a thud, bounces off to the other side of the cell, and comes to a rest after a couple of small bounces, motionless.

As the audience was eating and enjoying the spectacle, their gaze shifted to the wall following the wooden bowl's trajectory. But when they looked back, expecting more entertainment, they found Pan Bao flat on the ground. Zhu Ying, still holding her bowl and chopsticks, stood innocently against the wall.

Laughter erupted, with Old Hu's being the loudest.

Quickly finishing their meals, Old Hu tossed his bowl to the floor, crossed his arms, and kicked Pan Bao: "Get up, stop playing dead! Let me see, did you flatten your face?"

Pan Bao stirred, attempting to push himself up before collapsing again in total prostration. Old Hu flipped him over with a toe kick, his expression suddenly changing: "This is bad!"

The others crowded around.

The listless middle-aged man lifted Pan Bao's head, checking his eyelids: "He's passed out."

Zhu Ying, feeling somewhat regretful, crouched on the communal bed, scraping up her now lukewarm bean soup.

The scholarly man commented, "Old Ma, you're an experienced hand. Could a fall like that really knock him unconscious? He's as sturdy as a mule!"

The weary Old Ma replied, "The head, a bad fall could be fatal..."

The dish collector returned, and Zhu Ying finished her meal, gathering their bowls and chopsticks, including Pan Bao's fallen bowl. Six bowls and a bunch of chopsticks were all tossed back into the basin through the bars.

The convict responsible for serving food, noticing her bruised face, remarked, "Oh, new here? Picking up on the rules already? Hey, what happened to them?"

Holding the job of serving food marked him as a higher-tier among the prisoners. His shout drew a response from Old Hu, "Mind your own business! The fool knocked himself out!"

Old Ma gently slapped Pan Bao's cheek, urging, "Wake up!"

Old Hu declared, "That won't do, watch this!" and unleashed a flurry of slaps on Pan Bao, the sounds of which indicated they were much heavier than the one delivered to Zhu Ying.

Pan Bao barely opened his eyelids before rolling his eyes back, mumbling incoherently, then fainted in front of them.

Old Ma had a sinking feeling, "Something's wrong!"

He pried open Pan Bao's mouth to take a closer look and exclaimed, "This is bad! Quick, someone!"

The food servers had already left, and the satiated inmates were idly chatting. The innate curiosity to watch unfolds in everyone, even prisoners. Their alarm drew many onlookers to the bars. Queries of "What happened?" echoed around.

Dragging the unconscious man to the bars, under the dim torchlight, Old Ma discovered the end of a chopstick protruding from Pan Bao's mouth!

The scholarly man, biting his fingertips, worried, "This is terrible, someone's going to die!"

Attempting to grasp the chopstick's end, Old Ma found two chopsticks had diagonally pierced upward from the throat into the brain, leaving only an inch visible in the mouth. How could they remove it without risking brain damage?

Zhu Ying internally concluded, "He won't survive this."

…………

The inmates raised an alarm, shouting for help, "Someone come quick! A man is dead! YOOOOOOO~"

"Someone's dead! Come see!"

The jailer, who had been inside another cell drinking and sharing news with a prisoner, heard the commotion. Setting down his drink, he came out with his sword drawn, exasperated, "What's all this noise?! A bunch of crooks, never quiet unless beaten!"

The prisoners exchanged comments like "Pan Bao fell and died" and "Heh, you've got a dead man here," among other remarks.

The jailer strides forward, covering three steps in two, reaching Pan Bao's cell, where Pan Bao is pressed against the bars, with fellow inmates forming a semi-circle a few steps away from him.

Frowning, the jailer calls for two more jailers. They unlock the door, one checks on Pan Bao, while the other two keep watch over the inmates. Unbeknownst to others, the jailers are well aware that Old Ma, a notorious thief leader in the capital, has been recently tumultuous. Coincidentally, the Minor Prefect is currently cleaning up the streets, and he's been charged with a crime to lay low here.

Lao Hu is a hitman for a noble family with a significant background. The lean man is a key member of a gang leader known on the streets, detained for causing severe injury in a brawl. The litigious Wen is also somewhat renowned in the capital's underground.

These four, along with Pan Bao, despite their different crimes, were all arrested during the Minor Prefect's campaign to rid the city of nuisances.

It would be best if no incidents occurred with these individuals; otherwise, how would they explain it to the Minor Prefect should he inquire?

The jailer, checking Pan Bao's breath and finding it faint, urgently says, "Quick! Carry him to the bed and call a doctor!"

The other two are shocked, "What happened?"

"He's exhaling more than inhaling! Hurry, we can't let him die like this! If he dies and we didn't call a doctor, the Minor Prefect might hold us accountable!"

The remaining two become anxious as well.

Deaths among prisoners, especially accidental ones like tripping during mealtime and fatally stabbing oneself with chopsticks, are not uncommon. While the law stipulates punishment for guards who neglect medical needs leading to an inmate's death, such incidents usually don't attract much attention—unless the family is relentless.

Sometimes, even relentless families can't change the outcome. Death is final, and any investigation is often superficial.

As long as they appear to have made a genuine effort to save him, reporting an accidental death will suffice.

Money isn't a concern, as Pan Bao's family still owns a house; they should be able to cover the medical expenses from his estate.

Soon, the doctor arrived and upon examination, said, "It's difficult! It's not uncommon for children to accidentally jab their throats with chopsticks while eating. If it doesn't damage the windpipe, it's manageable. But this one has pierced the brain, it's up to fate. To be clear, not pulling it out guarantees death, but removal doesn’t guarantee survival either."

The jailer impatiently said, "We know! Get on with it!"

The doctor, with some effort and Lao Hu's help in keeping Pan Bao's mouth open, grasped the end of the chopstick with pliers. He struggled and the chopstick slipped, pushing in a bit further before he managed to pull it out. After removing one, the jailer breathed a sigh of relief, but the doctor mentioned, "There's another one."

After both were extracted, Pan Bao kicked twice and then was still.

The doctor stated, "Don't blame me for this!"

The jailer said, "Alright, come back tomorrow."

"What?!"

"You just need to report what you saw!"

The doctor wiped his sweat, "Alright."

The jailer didn't move the body outside, instead ordered, "Keep it down!" and inquired how Pan Bao had fallen.

The scholarly man pointed out, "There, see? He slipped on a vegetable leaf!"

The jailer shone a torch on the ground, spotting a nearly unrecognizable crushed vegetable leaf and a long slide mark. He nodded, "Right. These pigs and dogs, making a mess when they eat, caused his own death!"

The scholarly man chuckled under his breath, having witnessed quite the spectacle.

The jailer scolded, "What are you laughing at, you who deserve to be beheaded?" Scanning the room and seeing Zhu Ying looking the most docile, he pointed at her, "You, come here, remove his prison clothes!"

Reluctantly approaching, Zhu Ying undid Pan Bao's prison uniform. Pulling at a sleeve and pushing the body, she removed the garment as it rolled on the ground. Standing up, she shook off the dust and carefully folded the uniform, placing it neatly on the communal sleeping area.

The jailer, impatiently, said, "What's the fuss about being in here? Come here, check his belt, see if there's anything on him!"

Zhu Ying turned around, looking at him innocently. The jailer cursed, "Are you deaf? Hurry up and come here!"

Reluctantly moving closer, Zhu Ying was struck twice on the shoulder with the sheath of a knife. The jailer urged, "Check for any silver coins, gold hairpins, silver pendants..."

Touching a corpse... Zhu Ying thought, slowly bending down and reaching out. "Hurry up!" the jailer shouted, kicking her in the shin.

When Zhu Ying came in, she had only a key on her. In fact, prisoners aren’t allowed to bring valuables or weapons into jail. Zhu Ying, transferred from Wannian County and only searched beyond her shackles, managed to keep her key. Pan Bao, evidently searched upon entry, had nothing valuable.

"Nothing, just clothes," Zhu Ying reported.

The jailer frowned, muttering, "Bad luck!" Pan Bao's clothes weren’t even nice enough to confiscate for resale or gifting...

He then ordered Zhu Ying to remove the corpse's shoes to check for hidden items. Surprisingly, a small amount of silver was found inside. Taking the silver, the jailer left, locking the cell door behind him, leaving Pan Bao’s body in the cell.

Pointing at Pan Bao's body, Zhu Ying asked Mr. Wen, "Is... that... it?"

"They’ll come to remove the body in the morning. Don’t worry, they’ll ask his family for a burial fee. There’s money to be made; they won’t neglect it," Mr. Wen reassured.

Zhu Ying remained silent.

She took Pan Bao’s blanket to the corner of the communal sleeping area, securing her own bedding in less than an hour since her arrival without anyone offering her one. The space on the platform now seemed more spacious, and as long as it wasn't intentional, the person next to her shouldn't encroach on her space.

The outermost person slept next to the toilet, which wasn't by chance. Zhu Ying choosing this spot meant no one would dispute it. Yet, in a cell with six people, one dead on the floor, only Old Ma and Zhu Ying seemed unfazed.

The others, including Old Hu, looked fierce but had no experience spending a night in a room with a corpse. Some of them still had living parents, or had lost theirs so early they held no memory of it, hence lacking any experience with vigils. How could they be expected to possess such fortitude?

Old Ma covered himself with a blanket to sleep, while Zhu Ying fiddled with the straw on the communal sleeping area, straightening each strand.

Unable to sleep, Mr. Wen scooted closer to her and asked, “What are you doing?”

“Can’t sleep, I’m making a straw mat,” Zhu Ying replied.

Mr. Wen’s eyes widened in disbelief, “What?”

Ignoring his astonishment, Zhu Ying continued her task as Mr. Wen eventually gave up. After working for a while and taking two pieces of straw paper from Pan Bao, she slowly went to the toilet. Mr. Wen turned away, pinching his nose — regretting his proximity due to the smell.

Zhu Ying worked on the mat for a bit longer. With the sparse straw available, her handiwork resulted in a thin mat barely an arm’s width and two arm’s length, which she placed under herself. She then folded the blanket, half as padding, half as cover, and closed her eyes.

She thought, given that the prefecture’s magistrate seemed to be a sensible man, even without Zheng Xi in the capital, there should still be competent officials in charge. Listening to today's discussions about the magistrate, it seemed unlikely he would keep her incarcerated based on Zhou You’s whims. A few more days of waiting for an inmate review or court appearance should offer a chance to appeal for her release.

At worst, she could wait for Zheng Xi's return, by which time contacts like Jin Liang and Gan Ze would also be reachable, facilitating her release.

With thirty taels at home, enough to support her parents for a significant period since neither were spendthrifts, they would worry but the funds should sustain them in seeking information about her whereabouts.

Apart from the wasted days in jail and the unnecessary worry for her parents, there didn’t seem to be any major concerns.

Zhu Ying fell into a deep sleep.

While Zhu Ying slept soundly, the others in the cell were restless. However, out of respect for Old Ma's presence, their cell remained quiet. From adjacent cells, there were a couple of ghostly jests about "Old Hu, Pan Bao misses you," but then silence prevailed. Some inmates were hardened and fearless, others simply indifferent since the disturbance was not in their cell.

Those unable to sleep would murmur a prayer or two, finding solace and a sense of security in their faith.

…………

Waking up, Zhu Ying sneezed, a sign she might have caught a chill.

The guards, starting their day early, brought the head jailer to inspect the scene, including the vegetable scraps on the floor, and called for the coroner. With a headache, the jailer said, “Alright, take it to the coroner for a death report. Sigh, I'm in for a scolding!” The corpse was then carried away and the cell door re-locked.

Shortly after, some prisoners were summoned to distribute breakfast.

"Seems similar to last night's meal," Zhu Ying thought, curious about what lunch might entail. Always eager to learn, she humbly sought insights from Mr. Wen. But Mr. Wen hardly had the appetite for breakfast, lamenting, “Lunch? There's no such thing here.”

Old Hu seemed slightly better tempered, mentioning, “We only get two meals here.”

"And you still have the energy to fight?" Zhu Ying wondered to herself, amused at his apparent robustness.

Soon, breakfast arrived, much like the previous night's dinner. The carriers had a strange look about them, prompting Mr. Wen to ask, “What's the matter?”

With a sneer, an outsider responded, “What’s the matter? You’ll find out soon enough!”

As the basin was placed behind the bars, the prisoners surged forward as usual, only to pause in surprise—there were only wooden bowls, no chopsticks!

Wooden bowls were used to prevent them from breaking porcelain ones. But chopsticks...

Someone explained, "The higher-ups said chopsticks could cause trouble."

So, they just decided not to provide them at all?

Mr. Wen cursed, "Can't you do anything right? If there are no chopsticks, there are still spoons!"

Zhu Ying grabbed a bowl and received a serving of mixed vegetables and beans, slurping it down in a corner before going back for seconds. The serving prisoner gave her a puzzled look but still filled her bowl halfway.

After eating, the long day in the cell began. Some cells had old inmates boasting about their crimes, others witnessed conflicts escalating to physical fights once the guards left, some "knowledgeable" inmates shared tricks of the trade, and the wronged ones cried out their innocence. With nothing else to do, shouting filled the air.

When sunlight briefly shone through the narrow windows, Old Hu finally seemed to return to normal. He paced around the cell, immediately noticing Zhu Ying's neatly folded blanket and the grass mat beneath it.

Grabbing and shaking out the blanket, he claimed the grass mat for himself, "This is good! I'm taking it! Kid, come here and make another one, tailor it to my size! Make it carefully, or I'll beat you!"