Red Sorghum

Magistrate Cao said, ‘You’re a real scoundrel, Wu the Third. Now, since you caused the death of this hen, you can pay for it. Three silver dollars!’
    Wu the Third, shaking like a leaf, reached into his pocket and pulled out two silver dollars and twenty copper coins. ‘Magistrate, your honour,’ he said fearfully, ‘this is all I have.’
    ‘You’re getting off light!’ Magistrate Cao said, handing the money to the woman.
    ‘Magistrate, your honour,’ the woman said, ‘a hen isn’t worth all that much. I only want what’s coming to me.’
    Magistrate Cao raised his hands to his forehead, uttered anexclamation, and said, ‘You’re truly a decent, upright woman. Nine Dreams Cao salutes you!’ Bringing his legs together, he removed his hat and bowed low.
    The poor woman was so flustered she could only gaze at Nine Dreams Cao through tear-filled eyes. Once she’d regained her senses, she fell to her knees and said over and over, ‘His honour, the upright magistrate! His Honour, the upright magistrate!’
    Magistrate Cao placed his walking stick under her arm. ‘Up, get up.’
    The countrywoman got to her feet.
    ‘I can tell you are a filial daughter by the way you came to market in shabby clothes and poor health to sell a hen for the sake of your mother-in-law. Nothing impresses the magistrate like filial piety. Take the money and look after your mother-in-law. Take the chicken as well. Clean it and make a nice soup for her.’
    Money in one hand, chicken in the other, the woman walked away, murmuring her gratitude.
    Meanwhile, the deceitful Wu the Third and the neighbour who had served as his witness stood under the blazing sun trembling with fright.
    ‘Wu the Third, you scoundrel,’ Nine Dreams Cao commanded, ‘drop your pants.’
    Wu was too bashful to do as he was told.
    ‘You tried to cheat that good woman in broad daylight,’ Magistrate Cao rebuked him. ‘It’s pretty late for modesty, isn’t it? Do you know what shame is selling for these days? Drop ’em!’
    Wu the Third dropped his pants.
    Nine Dreams Cao took off one of his shoes and handed it to Little Yan. ‘Two hundred lashes. All cheeks. Ass and face!’
    Holding Magistrate Cao’s thick-soled shoe in his hand, Little Yan kicked Wu the Third to the ground, took aim at his exposed backside, and started in, fifty on each side, until Wu was screaming for his parents and begging for mercy, his buttocks swelling up in plain sight of everyone. Then it was his face’s turn, again fifty on each side; that stopped his screams.
    Magistrate Cao placed the tip of his walking stick on Wu theThird’s forehead and said, ‘Will you try something like that again, you old scoundrel?’
    Wu the Third, whose cheeks were so puffy he could barely open his mouth, responded by pounding his head on the ground as though he were crushing garlic.
    ‘As for you,’ Nine Dreams Cao said, pointing to the man who’d served as witness, ‘an ass-kisser who’d make up a story like that is the scum of the earth. I’m not going to give you a taste of the bottom of my shoe, because your ass would only soil it. Since you prefer something sweet, I’ll let you lick the ass of your rich buddy. Little Yan, go buy a pot of honey.’
    Little Yan moved towards the crowd, which parted to let him pass. The false witness fell to his knees and banged his head so hard on the ground that his skullcap fell off.
    ‘Get up! Get up! Get up!’ Nine Dreams Cao commanded. ‘I’m not going to have you beaten or punished. I’m going to treat you to some honey, so what are you pleading for?’
    When Little Yan returned with the honey, Nine Dreams Cao pointed to Wu the Third. ‘Spread it on his ass!’
    Little Yan rolled Wu over on his belly, picked up a stick, and spread the potful of honey over his swollen buttocks.
    ‘Start licking,’ Nine Dreams Cao ordered the false witness. ‘You like kissing ass, don’t you? Okay, start licking!’
    The false witness kept kowtowing loudly. ‘Magistrate, your honour,’ he pleaded, ‘Magistrate, your honour, I promise I’ll never again . . .’
    ‘Get the shoe ready, Little Yan,’ Nine Dreams Cao said. ‘And really put some arm into it this time.’
    ‘Don’t hit me,’ the false witness screamed, ‘don’t hit me! I’ll lick it.’
    He crawled up to Wu the Third, stuck out his tongue, and began lapping up the sticky, transparent threads of honey.
    The looks on the hot, sweaty faces of observers can hardly be