Sandalwood Death: A Novel (Chinese Literature Today Book Series)

palpable.
    Yang Rui, who was kneeling alongside Liu Guangdi, tugged at his clothing.
    “Peicun,” he said, “at this point, what is there to say? Kneel with us. It is what is expected.”
    “Great Qing Dynasty!” Liu shouted, drawing the words out as he straightened his clothes, bent his knees, and knelt on the platform. A functionary standing behind the chief witness announced in a loud voice:
    “Give thanks for the blessings of Her Royal Highness!”
    Of the Six Gentlemen, only Lin, Yang, Yang, and Kang numbly performed the rite of kowtows to her. Tan Sitong and Liu Guangdi held their necks straight and refused to kowtow.
    Then the functionary announced loudly:
    “Criminals, give thanks for the blessings of His Imperial Majesty!”
    After this announcement, all six men kowtowed. Tan Sitong banged his head on the platform as if he were crushing cloves of garlic, interspersed with shouts:
    “Your Majesty, Your Majesty, I have failed you, Your Majesty!”
    The thuds from Liu Guangdi’s kowtows were loud and insistent; tears lined both sides of his gaunt face.
    In a voice that betrayed his discomfort, Gang Yi gave the command:
    “Carry out the sentence!”
    Zhao Jia bowed deeply to the Six Gentlemen.
    “I will send Your Excellencies to your glory,” he said softly.
    He braced himself to drive out all personal thoughts and concentrate his strength and spirit into the wrist of his right arm. In his mind, the execution sword and his body had already merged. He took one step forward, reached down with his left hand, and grabbed the tip of Liu Guangdi’s queue. With it he pulled Liu’s head toward him to expose the taut skin of his neck. Thanks to years of experience, he immediately spotted the precise spot where the sword would enter the neck. He lowered Liu’s head slightly as he turned to the right before he would swing back and bring down the sword in one motion, when a desperate howl emerged from the throng of spectators:
    “Father—”
    A tall, lanky, and badly disheveled young man stumbled forward at the very moment Zhao Jia was about to slice the sword through Liu’s neck. He aborted the move. His wrist felt the power of the bloodthirsty Generalissimo in that sudden stop. The young man staggering up to the platform was Liu Pu, Guangdi’s son, whom he had met that time in the little temple outside Xizhi Gate. A surge of compassion that had been suppressed for many years by weighty professional considerations flowed past his heart. Bewildered soldiers, armed with red-tasseled spears, recovered from their shock and rushed up in confusion. A badly shaken Gang Yi jumped to his feet and cried out shrilly, “Grab him.” Palace guards behind him drew their swords and converged on the young man, but before they could use their weapons, Liu Pu fell to his knees and was kowtowing to Gang Yi. That stopped the guards, who gaped vacantly at the handsome young man, whose ashen face was wet with tears and snot.
    “Be merciful, Your Excellency,” he pleaded with Gang Yi. “Let me take my father’s place . . .”
    Liu Guangdi looked up and, choked with sobs, managed to say:
    “Pu, my son, don’t be foolish . . .”
    Liu Pu crawled forward on his knees and gazed up at his father, his words muffled by sobs:
    “Father, let me die in your place . . .”
    “My dear son . . .” Liu Guangdi sighed. His face was haggard, his features twisted in his agony. “I want no extravagant funeral, and you are to take no bereavement gifts from anyone. Do not send my body back to my hometown, but bury it somewhere nearby. Once that is done, I want you and your mother to leave Peking and return to Sichuan. I want my descendants to receive an education, but I want no sons or grandsons to sit for an official examination. I entrust all this to you. Now, leave, and don’t make me waver in my resolve.” With that he closed his eyes, stretched out his neck, and said to Zhao Jia, “Old Zhao, do it now. For the sake of our friendship, make it a good job.”
    Zhao’s eyes burned. He was nearly in tears.
    “I promise, Your Excellency.”
    Liu Pu howled from below the platform and crawled on his knees up to Gang Yi.
    “Excellency . . . Excellency . . . let me take my father’s place . . .”
    Gang Yi covered his face with his wide sleeve.
    “Take him away!”
    Soldiers rushed up and dragged the hysterical, sobbing Liu Pu away.
    “Carry out the sentence!” Gang Yi commanded.
    Zhao Jia grabbed Liu Guangdi’s queue for the