Chapter 38: The State of the World

Over the vast expanse of the East Sea, the waters stretched out in a boundless blue. Upon them, a lavish two-story pleasure barge, standing twenty feet high, drifted slowly along. Such a splendid vessel ought to have graced the tranquil, perfumed inner city rivers, not braved the perilous, ever-restless East Sea, where disaster threatened at any moment. Yet, strangely enough, here it was.

At the prow, a performer in theatrical garb swayed long silken sleeves, singing in mournful, quavering tones:
"Tell me, in this world of men, how can one bear to see wild beasts run rampant, right and wrong turned upside down? The sun and moon rise and set, ghosts and spirits hold sway over life and death. Heaven and earth ought only to divide the pure from the foul, so how is it that villains and sages are muddled together? The good suffer poverty and die young, the wicked prosper and live long. Even Heaven and Earth bully the weak and fear the strong, drifting along with the current. Earth, you fail to judge good from evil; Heaven, you mistake the worthy and the foolish. Alas, only tears remain."

As the performer reached the most poignant verses, tears welled in his eyes, his voice laden with sorrow and grievance. The passengers, listening in a daze, sighed in unison, "Such bitterness," and wept along with him.

Far out on the sea, several pirate ships flew their banners high. From the largest of them, a small boat was lowered to the water. An old man with graying hair, dressed in coarse clothing, leapt aboard. Two burly pirates, muscles rippling, were already waiting with oars in hand. As the old man settled himself, the two men shouted and rowed with all their might. Both were masters of internal strength, trusted confidants of the old man. The little boat shot across the waves like an unbridled steed, swiftly closing the distance to the pleasure barge.

When they were a few yards away, the old man and his two subordinates knelt flat on the deck, remaining motionless.

On the pleasure barge, the performer, dressed as a female lead, continued his song, lost in the depths of his role. The old man and his men dared not utter a sound, holding their breath until the performer, exhausted, finally paused. Only then did the old man speak: "This humble servant pays his respects to the young master."

"What is it?" The response came from the prow, a youthful, gentle, cultured male voice.

At that moment, a young woman emerged. Barefoot, clad in pale yellow court robes, she was graceful and strikingly beautiful. She eyed the three men cowering in the boat with obvious displeasure. "How many times must I say it? Don't bring your filthy business before the young master. He has a kind heart and cannot bear talk of blood and death."

The old man inwardly cursed his misfortune—was this not all at the young master's command? How could he presume to act on his own? He wouldn't dare, not a hundred times over. But this woman was the young master's close attendant, and he could not offend her either. He hurried to reply, "Yes, milady, you are right. But I have no choice—the pirates have lingered near the coast for over half a month, and I fear the navy's response. I've come to ask whether the young master permits us to act."

"What do you fear? You are the pirate king of the East Sea, and yet your courage fails you at such a time?" she retorted with scorn.

The old man could only stammer and bow his head.

She continued, "Wait another thirteen days—on the day of Double Ninth, you may gather your men and attack the city. This is the agreement among the great noble families; the court has turned a blind eye. On that day, the only defenders in Ping'an County will be a few hundred garrison soldiers and a thousand militiamen—no reinforcements will come. The city cannot withstand you. After the gates fall, you may take whatever riches and women you find, but what was commanded must be carried out to the letter. Within three days of the city's fall, you must slaughter eighty-one thousand souls to complete the required tally. If you fall short, your own ten thousand pirates will make up the rest."

All of Ping'an County and its surrounding villages held little more than a hundred thousand people—this was a command to slaughter nearly every living soul, and to do so within three days. The task was immense, but the old man dared not argue. Her threat was no bluff; it was a statement of fact.

"Rest assured, milady. I will see it done. Should I fail, you may have my head," he declared, beating his chest in earnest.

She added, "Furthermore, do not try to fish in troubled waters in the other counties of Baiquan Prefecture. The arrangement covers only Ping'an County, as agreed by the great families, and the court will turn a blind eye. But if you attack elsewhere and the censors catch wind, though you are the young master's dogs, he will not stand up for you. Should you bring trouble upon him, I will be the first to see you punished. Do you understand?"

"Understood, understood."

"Good. Now be gone and prepare yourself. Don't linger before the young master and sully his sight."

The old man quickly signaled his subordinates to row away at top speed.

Behind them, the sound of singing rose once more:

"It is not I who punishes these endless grievances, but truly the injustices run deep. If not for some divine sign to pass down to mortals, would the heavens remain so clear? I ask not to shed a single drop of blood upon the dust of the world, but only to see the banners and spears raised aloft. Let all see it—this is the fate of those who give their lives in vain."

The sorrow in the song was beyond words. The passengers, still listening in trance, sighed together, "Such injustice."

...

Not until the small boat had rowed far away, the pleasure barge lost from view, did the three men dare to breathe again. The old man regained his air of command, the pirate king once more.

One of his confidants could not help but ask, "Why do the nobles want us to slaughter the city, and why exactly eighty-one thousand?"

The old man replied, "It's no great secret. Since you are my trusted men, I will tell you. Recently, the earth's energy in Ping'an County has surged, yin energy fills the air, and monsters and ghosts have gathered. Some suspect that a strange treasure lies beneath the ground, linked to the realm of the dead. The realm of the dead, legend says, is where all souls return. With such a treasure at stake, how could the noble families let it go? But the energy may take decades to fully awaken, and they are impatient. So, they plan to use mass slaughter to accumulate resentment, forcing the earth's energy to erupt and hasten the treasure's emergence."

The pirate shuddered, "These noble families are even more ruthless than us men who live by the sword."

Just then, the old man noticed his other confidant grinning foolishly and glancing repeatedly in a certain direction. Frowning, he asked, "What are you smirking at?"

The pirate replied, "That handmaid beside the young master—she's beautiful as a fairy. I've never seen such a gorgeous woman."

The old man was startled, "You dared to look up at her?"

Sheepishly, the man answered, "Her voice was so lovely, I couldn't help sneaking a glance. She even smiled at me."

The old man, both shocked and furious, cried, "How many times have I warned you—never raise your eyes to those nobles!"

Seeing his master's alarm, the pirate grew uneasy, "Surely they wouldn't punish me for something so small?"

"You don't understand—you don't understand," the old man yelled, stamping his foot.

Before the pirate could answer, the other confidant pointed at his face, "What's wrong with your face?"

The man felt an itch and scratched it—his hand came away dripping with blood, a large piece of flesh torn free.

He stammered in terror, "I—" but felt no pain at all. Soon, his whole body itched unbearably, and he began to claw at himself uncontrollably.

Moments later, there were only two men left in the boat—and a pile of blood, flesh, viscera, and bones.