Nine Lives of Unjust Suffering Chapter 10

Chapter 10: A Double Bereavement Brings Trouble to the Scoundrel; A Cunning Mediator Profits from a Settlement

Kwai-hing rushed into the inner chambers to find the servants in a chaotic panic. Lady He beckoned him, crying, “Hurry, Husband! Something has happened to Sister!”

Kwai-hing reached Kwai-sin’s room and was met with a horrific sight: Kwai-sin had used a silken scarf to hang herself. Her hair was disheveled, her tongue protruded more than two inches, and her eyes were wide and bulging. Kwai-hing simply stamped his foot and grumbled, “What is this? How could she be so tired of living!”

They cut her down, but it was too late. Kwai-hing noticed a letter peeking out from her bodice. He pulled it out and read the inscription: “To my Aunt at the Leang Residence, a humble report.” Furious, Kwai-hing roared, “So, she was secretly communicating with the enemy! She died too late—much too late!” He tore the letter into shreds and stormed out in a huff.

When the gang of thugs asked what happened, he told them the news. The strategist, Au Cheuk-hing, immediately looked for the angle. “The girl doesn’t matter, but wasn’t she betrothed to the Chen family? The young man is no concern, but his father, Chen Ze-guang, is a difficult man to handle. They call him ‘First Scholar Chen’ because he writes legal petitions so well. We must find a way to silence him first.”

Kwai-hing turned pale. “What should we do?”

“It will simply cost you some wealth,” Cheuk-hing replied smoothly.

Throughout the night, they prepared for the funeral while Cheuk-hing went to the Chen house to report the death. Chen Ze-guang arrived with his son, acting suspicious. “My son is unfortunate to lose his bride, but what illness took her so quickly?”

Kwai-hing lied, claiming it was a sudden, untreatable ailment. When Chen asked to see the body, Kwai-hing redirected him to the study. Using Cheuk-hing as the middleman, they negotiated a settlement. Kwai-hing coughed up two thousand taels of silver. Cheuk-hing, true to his nature, pocketed five hundred for himself as a “fee,” while Chen Ze-guang took the remaining one thousand five hundred and left without a single word of complaint.

A Household Divided

Back inside, the wailing began as they prepared the body for burial. Kwai-hing, bitter over the loss of two thousand taels, sat with a sullen face, refusing to mourn. His five-year-old son, Ying-ke, was crying hysterically for his aunt and accidentally stepped on Kwai-hing’s new socks with muddy feet.

Kwai-hing struck the child across the face. “She’s dead! What does it have to do with you? Why are you so heartbroken?”

Lady He rushed to pull the boy away, weeping, “Who else is heartless like you? Your own sister is dead and you haven’t shed a single tear! No one has offended you, yet you listen to those ‘bandits’ and take your anger out on your son!”

“Bandits?” Kwai-hing screamed. “Who are you calling a bandit?” He struck his wife across the face. As she collapsed in grief, he kicked her twice before the servants pulled him away.

The thugs tried to calm him, but Kwai-hing sat in a stony, angry silence until they eventually drifted away, leaving only Au Cheuk-hing. With honeyed words, Cheuk-hing coaxed Kwai-hing back into a better mood and invited him to the opium couch to smoke away his troubles.

While preparing the pipe, Cheuk-hing feigned alarm. “Oh no! My box of opium has dwindled! It must be your servant, Hei-loi. I heard he’s taken up the habit. I can’t leave it here anymore; at nearly a tael of silver per ounce, I can’t afford his thievery!” He tucked half a box away and asked Kwai-hing to keep a full one safe for him.

“Why not take it home?” Kwai-hing asked.

“I have too many idle guests at my place,” Cheuk-hing lied. “Specifically a man named Hung Ah-tsat, a ‘hero’ of the underworld whom I respect. But his appetite for smoke is bottomless—if there is opium present, he won’t put down the pipe until every bit is gone.” After a bit more idle chatter, Cheuk-hing departed.

Finding the inner rooms slightly quieter, Kwai-hing ventured inside. He found Lady He sobbing uncontrollably by the coffin. Seeking a distraction, he went into the bedroom and placed Au Cheuk-hing’s box of opium in the dressing table drawer. He tried to rest on the opium couch in the outer hall, but a profound loneliness and a sudden, sharp sense of dread—a “palpitation of the heart”—overcame him.

He skipped dinner, drank several cups of wine in his study to no avail, and eventually drifted into a fitful sleep on the couch. He awoke around the fourth watch (between 1:00 AM and 3:00 AM), shivering from a strange, deep-seated chill.

Deciding to return to the inner bedroom, he crossed the hall. The sight of his sister’s coffin, illuminated by the eerie, flickering green glow of two ritual candles, made him shudder. He entered his room and sat on the edge of the bed, the cold biting at him. “Strange,” he thought, “it’s only the eighth month. Why is it so freezing?”

He reached out to push Lady He, intending to tell her to move over, but his hand touched something—something deathly cold.

Bolting upright, he shouted, “Hey! Get up! Get up! Look what’s on the bed!” Silence. “How can she sleep like the dead? I can’t even wake her!”

He grabbed a lamp, hooked back one side of the bed curtains, and leaned in with the light. He let out a strangled “Wah!” and scrambled back so fast he tripped over his own feet, falling flat on his back. The lamp flew from his hand and extinguished, plunging the room into total darkness.

He scrambled up, tripping and falling as he fled the room. Right outside the door, he came face-to-face with his sister’s coffin. His body went numb with terror; his legs gave out, and he collapsed to the floor. When he tried to stand, his limbs refused to obey. He tried to scream, but no sound came out.

“This is the end,” he thought frantically. “I’ve gone mute!”

He began to crawl across the floor, reaching the open courtyard. Using every ounce of strength, he managed a stuttering cry: “Ri… ri… ri… rise!”

But he could say no more. His jaw chattered violently, and his thirty-two teeth knocked together like castanets. He glanced back at the coffin in the hall and shook again. Still unable to stand, he crawled all the way to the outer hall. Sitting on the ground, he tried to steady his racing heart. His teeth wouldn’t stop chattering, and though his hands and feet were ice-cold, he was drenched in a cold sweat. He bit down hard to stop the shaking, clutched his chest, and took a long breath.

Feeling slightly better, he shouted again: “Wake up! Wake up, all of you! Get up!”

It was the dead of night, and the servants were in deep sleep. He called out a dozen more times, but the house remained silent as a grave. Finally, with his legs still trembling like jelly, he managed to stand. He stumbled toward the outer gatehouse to find his servant, Hei-loi.

The moon had sunk below the horizon, leaving the courtyard in pitch darkness. Terrified, he spotted a faint flicker of light from the study window. Steeling himself, he rushed to the gatehouse door and, without even calling out, began to hammer on it with his fists like a war drum.

Kwai-hing’s thunderous pounding finally jolted his servant, Hei-loi, awake. Hei-loi cursed into the dark, “It isn’t even light yet! What bastard is making that noise?” Kwai-hing didn’t hear him and kept hammering. Hei-loi, now furious, jumped up and flung the door open.

Because Kwai-hing had been leaning his full weight against the door while pounding, he fell forward with a heavy thud, pinning Hei-loi to the floor. Thinking it was a local drunk or a prankster, Hei-loi grabbed the intruder’s queue (braid) and delivered several sharp slaps across the face. Then, catching a glimpse of the man by the light, he recoiled in horror. “It’s the Master! I’m a dead man, forgive me!”

He helped Kwai-hing up and saw the man’s face was as white as lime, his eyes glazed, and his breath coming in ragged gasps.

“The… the Mistress is gone!” Kwai-hing stammered.

“Gone where?” Hei-loi asked. “The gates were locked!”

“She’s dead!”

Hei-loi was stunned. “She was fine yesterday! What happened?” But Kwai-hing could only tell him to wake the house. Hei-loi wondered privately if she, too, had hanged herself, and led the way back inside with a lamp. Kwai-hing refused to enter the room, standing trembling in the courtyard.

As the maids and servants were roused, they gathered in the hall. Suddenly, Kwai-hing shrieked, “Aiyai! The Living Corpse! A Jiangshi is coming!” He turned and bolted. The servants, already terrified by the news of the death and the sight of the sister’s coffin, panicked and ran in all directions, spilling lamp oil everywhere.

Hei-loi, the only one with any courage left, caught Kwai-hing. “Master! What are you doing?”

“Let go! The Jiangshi is in the room crying!”

Hei-loi listened. “If there is crying, it means the Mistress has regained her breath. It’s not a ghost!” He dragged Kwai-hing back and shouted for the servants. But when they entered the room, they found it wasn’t Lady He crying—it was their five-year-old son, Ying-ke. He had woken up, and when his mother didn’t answer his calls, he had burst into tears.

The Discovery of the Box

Kwai-hing refused to go near the bed. Two elderly maids felt Lady He’s chest and sighed. “It’s no use. Help us pull down the bed curtains.”

As they tugged the heavy fabric, something fell from the headboard with a sharp clack. Hei-loi picked it up and froze. “An opium box? Where did this come from?”

Kwai-hing stamped his foot in despair. “Finished! It’s all finished!”

By dawn, the house was in an uproar. Kwai-hing sent for his gang of thugs to help, but before they could arrive, a group of angry men burst through the gates. It was his father-in-law, He Da-an, and his uncle-in-law, He Da-xian, followed by twenty fierce kinsmen from the He clan.

“A perfectly healthy woman dies in a single night?” they roared. They pushed past Kwai-hing without a word and marched straight into the inner chambers. Kwai-hing, unable to stop them and sensing a disaster, sent Hei-loi racing to find Au Cheuk-hing to mediate.

Translator’s Note:

The Silken Scarf (羅巾 – Luójīn): Suicide by hanging was a common “protest” for women in the Qing Dynasty who felt trapped by family dishonor. Kwai-sin’s death is a direct result of her brother’s descent into villainy.

Legal Pettifoggers (訟師 – Sòngshī): Chen Ze-guang is a “First Scholar” of lawsuits. In a society where legal language was a weapon, someone who could write a winning petition was feared and respected. Kwai-hing buying him off shows that even “justice” had a price.

Opium (煙 – Yān): By this point in the Qing Dynasty, opium had become a destructive force. Cheuk-hing using opium as a way to “bond” with Kwai-hing shows how he is further degrading Kwai-hing’s health and mind.

The Muddy Sock: This small detail illustrates Kwai-hing’s narcissism. He cares more about a smudge on his expensive clothing than the death of his sister or the feelings of his child.

Green Ritual Candles (綠蠟燭 – Lǜ làzhú): In Chinese funerary traditions, specific colors are used for candles. The “green” or “pale” glow often associated with the dead adds to the “cold” and eerie atmosphere (Yin energy) that Kwai-hing is feeling.

The “Fourth Watch” (四更 – Sì gēng): This is roughly 1:00 AM to 3:00 AM—historically considered the time when “Yin” energy is strongest and ghosts are most active.

Psychosomatic Terror: Kwai-hing’s symptoms—sudden cold, loss of voice, and chattering teeth—are classic literary descriptions of someone whose “Vital Essence” (Qi) has been depleted by guilt and fear.

The Coffin in the Hall: In traditional Chinese homes, it was common to keep the coffin in the central hall for several days for mourning before burial. To Kwai-hing, who just tore up his sister’s final plea for peace, the coffin is no longer a ritual object—it is a physical reminder of his betrayal.

Jiangshi (僵屍): In Chinese folklore, a Jiangshi is a “stiff corpse” or a reanimated dead person. Kwai-hing’s terror shows his extreme guilt; he expects the dead to rise and take revenge on him.

Opium Poisoning: The box found by the bed suggests Lady He committed suicide by swallowing a large amount of raw opium—a common and tragic method for women in the Qing Dynasty. The “purple-black” face Kwai-hing saw is a classic literary description of opium overdose.

The He Clan’s Arrival: In Qing society, if a wife died suddenly or under suspicious circumstances, her birth family (the “Natal Clan”) had the right to demand an investigation. If they suspected foul play or driven suicide, they could ruin the husband’s family legally and financially.

Au Cheuk-hing’s Box: Remember that in the previous chapter, Cheuk-hing specifically asked Kwai-hing to hide a box of opium in the house. The “strategist” has set a deadly trap for his own patron.