Rain poured down, crackling against the ground. Inside a small town tavern, the server shouted loudly, and the place was packed with people. Among them were several officials, seated together at a large table.
Thunder rumbled outside, and streaks of white lightning flashed, illuminating the interior as if it were daytime.
"Second Brother, why is this rain coming down so hard? We still have to escort the prisoner to Zhuo Prefecture."
The clatter of chains echoed. In the corner, a trembling prisoner huddled with matted hair and a waxen, sallow face, gasping for breath. His eyes, full of sorrow, stared at the officials at the table not far away, mixed with anger and resentment.
"Please, sirs, have mercy—can you spare me some food?"
"Hey, you don't need to eat. We still have a few days before we reach Zhuo Prefecture, and once we get there, you'll be executed anyway."
The prisoner kept licking his lips, panting anxiously, and spoke in a weak voice.
"I'm innocent."
The officials all burst out laughing.
"Whether you're innocent or not, you can plead your case to the official in Zhuo Prefecture. We're just here to escort you."
But now, the prisoner started shouting and cursing at the constables, insisting he was innocent. He yelled nonstop, and a few younger constables stood up, grabbing their clubs and heading over, clearly ready to teach him a lesson.
"That's enough. Give him something to eat."
He looked at the constables, humiliated, but could only lower himself and start eating.
"Officials, I swear I'm innocent! I didn't kill anyone, and I didn't set any fires. Someone framed me! Please let me go, I have to get somewhere."
The older constable sneered, then leaned back and spoke.
"I've seen plenty like you, always claiming they're innocent."
The prisoner kept eating. After a while, he finished everything, then leaned against the wall and closed his eyes to rest.
The constables ordered a few more jugs of wine and kept drinking. It was only just past noon, and they planned to drink until evening before resting for the night and continuing on their way.
"Quit drinking. If we mess up, we'll lose our heads for it,"
the older constable said.
"Second Brother, it's fine. In a bit, I'll tie that guy up extra tight—he won't be able to cause any trouble. We've been traveling for over ten days straight, we're all exhausted."
But the prisoner wasn't really asleep. He kept his eyes half open, watching the constables drinking and laughing. All these days, he'd been searching for a chance to escape, but there was still no way. If he tried to run, they'd probably break his legs, and any hope would be gone.
The constables drank all day, some already passed out. Even the older one was fading, telling a younger constable to grab some rope and tie up the prisoner before slumping over the table.
A constable staggered over with a rope, smiling as he crouched in front of the prisoner.
Just then, the prisoner sprang into action. He seized the moment, jumped up, and snatched the constable's knife, shouting as he pressed the blade to the constable's neck.
"Let me go, or I'll kill you."
Instantly, the tavern erupted in chaos. The older constable, though, just sneered, got up, drew his own knife, and stared at the prisoner with murderous intent.
"Second Brother, help me!"
The young constable sobered up fast, the knife pressed to his throat. The older constable kept advancing, step by step.
Suddenly, the older constable lunged. The prisoner stared in shock, not moving the knife, but the young constable's eyes went wide as blood spattered. Shouts rang out as the older constable raised his knife and brought it down toward the prisoner's head.
"Show some mercy when you can."
Just as the knife was about to strike the prisoner, an old, weary voice rang out. In the corner sat a down-and-out Taoist named Mao Qianli. The older constable suddenly found himself unable to move, as if someone was holding him back. Startled, he turned to see Mao Qianli walking over.
"It's true, we take money to solve people's troubles, but to kill for no reason... sigh."
"You damn Taoist, what did you do?"
The older constable glared fiercely at Mao Qianli, while the prisoner looked at him with pleading eyes.
"Master Taoist, please save me—I'm innocent!"
The constables who'd been slumped over the table snapped awake, grabbing their knives and surrounding them. The chaos finally settled down. Mao Qianli was arrested, and the older constable, furious, stuffed a rag into the prisoner's mouth to silence him, as the prisoner kept shouting that the older constable was trying to kill him.
In fact, someone had already died. The four young constables glared bitterly at the prisoner, while everyone around whispered that he had killed a constable.
"Taoist, what exactly did you mean just now?"
Mao Qianli just smiled and shook his head.
"You know exactly what I meant."
The older constable looked embarrassed, letting the others watch the prisoner and the Taoist run outside. He said he was heading to the local government office to report, just to avoid any misunderstandings.
The older constable's name was Xue Wang. He was supposed to escort the condemned prisoner to Zhuo City, hoping to make some extra money. But now, things had changed.
"You screw things up more than you fix them. Hmph. I've already delayed as much as I can. The handoff might happen tomorrow or the next day. You'd better figure something out and get rid of that guy."
Instead of reporting to the nearby county office, Xue Wang slipped into an inn and met with a plainly dressed old man in a large room upstairs.
"Sir, I know I'm guilty. Please, just give me one more chance."
With a thud, a gold ingot hit the floor. Xue Wang's eyes lit up as he knelt to pick it up, tucking it away with a grin, beaming at the old man.
"Listen up. Tonight, I want that guy gone before sunrise."
When Xue Wang returned, the constables were all downcast. After all, someone had died. Earlier, Xue Wang had planned to take care of the prisoner during an escape attempt, but that plan failed—thanks to that damn Taoist.
"Where's that Taoist?"
"Bro, he's in the woodshed."
Xue Wang decided to vent his anger first. He walked into the woodshed, only to find the Taoist, who should've been tied up, now free—sitting on the floor, drinking wine and eating meat.
"You damn Taoist, you must have a death wish."
Xue Wang tried to draw his knife, but it was as if his right hand was pinned down, his whole body unable to move.
"You damn Taoist, what kind of dark magic are you using—what is this..."
Suddenly, Xue Wang's eyes widened. The Taoist was holding a gold ingot, weighing it in his hand.
"That's mine, you..."
"And what makes you think it's yours, Xue Wang?"
Mao Qianli chuckled, tucking the gold into his robe. Then, a letter appeared in his hand. Xue Wang's face instantly changed. He wanted to move, but couldn't—he could only watch as the Taoist read the letter.
"So that's it, huh? They offered you three gold ingots to kill that man."
"Hmph, so what? Who's going to believe a damn Taoist like you?"
Mao Qianli stood up, smiling at Xue Wang.
"Young man, I'm already a dying man. But since your heart isn't all bad, I want to save your life."
"Pah! Damn Taoist, let me go!"
Mao Qianli just chuckled and kept sitting cross-legged, eating and drinking. A long time passed, and night had fallen. Xue Wang's whole body was numb, stuck in the same position, and he couldn't take it anymore.
"Your child isn't doing well, right? Already gravely ill and in desperate need of money for treatment. That's why you were willing to kill. Too bad you ran into me."
Suddenly, Xue Wang could move again. He collapsed to the floor, staring at Mao Qianli in terror.
"But let me tell you, if you really kill that man, not only will your child not recover, but your whole family will be doomed."
Xue Wang looked at Mao Qianli in confusion and fear. How could this Taoist know about his life the very first time they met? He thought back—he'd been careful, there was no way the Taoist could know.
"Master Taoist, then what should I do? Am I just supposed to watch my own child..."
"Life and death are already decided by fate. I advise you to turn yourself in and confess everything. That way, you'll earn some merit, and maybe in the next life, your child will be born into a good family."
Xue Wang had heard stories about ghosts and gods, and about these Maoshan Taoists, but he never believed them. Mao Qianli tossed the gold and the letter on the ground, took a swig of wine, and stood up.
"I've said all I need to say. As for you, well..."
Xue Wang picked up the things, fear creeping in, but he still planned to take care of the prisoner that night.
A fit of violent coughing seized Mao Qianli. He covered his mouth, spitting up thick, dark blood, then tilted his head back to gaze at the clear moonlight.
"Looks like it's hopeless. Sigh, after searching so long, I still can't find someone to extend my life."
Early the next morning, the prisoner was dead—his face twisted in agony, eyes wide open, unable to rest in peace. Mao Qianli stood quietly in the noisy crowd, watching Xue Wang and the other constables handle the scene.
Xue Wang was all smiles, finally relieved. He glanced back at Mao Qianli in the crowd and sneered.
"People's hearts have changed... heh, I guess it's time I found a place to die."