Nine Lives of Unjust Suffering Chapter 12

Chapter 12: Commander Huang Favors the Thugs; Ling Kwai-hing Leads a Brazen Robbery

After settling with his father-in-law, Ling Kwai-hing turned the “Hall of Abundant Harvest” into a site for a massive forty-nine-day funeral rite. Beneath the banner of “helping out,” his gang of thugs swarmed the house day and night, drinking and feasting. Kwai-hing, now free of the “nagging” of his wife and sister, felt a dark sense of liberation.

On the third day, Au Cheuk-hing took twenty-six promissory notes from Kwai-hing. He gave one note for a thousand taels to the father-in-law, He Da-an. As for the other twenty-five notes—totaling one thousand seven hundred taels—he simply pocketed them himself. Both sides, blissfully unaware of the theft, remained grateful to him.

The funeral became a grotesque carnival. The sound of monks chanting sutras mixed with the boisterous shouts of the gambling gang. Before the “Third-Seven” (the 21st day of mourning) was even over, Kwai-hing took two new concubines, Lady Yang and Lady Pan. The house saw wedding wine served alongside funeral tea—a chaotic mix of joy and mourning, life and death.

The Bribery of the Military

One day, Zong-kong voiced a concern: “I saw Leang Hon-chiu leaving the Commander’s Yamen. Are they trying to use the law against us?”

“Those village elders are terrified of officials,” Cheuk-hing scoffed. “But,” he added, “we are about to move on their rice harvest. If they report it, the civil magistrates will ask the military to make arrests. Commander Huang is a greedy dog; give him fifty taels, and he’d call you ‘Father.'”

Kwai-hing offered fifty taels, but Cheuk-hing—acting as the “thrifty” advisor—suggested twenty was enough. He took the silver and “negotiated” with the Commander. For twenty taels, Commander Huang was bought body and soul.

The Harvest of Tears

The news of the double suicides reached the Leang family. Lady Leang wept for her niece, Kwai-sin, realizing now that the girl’s final visit on the Mid-Autumn night had been a farewell address from the brink of death. She told Tin-loi of Kwai-sin’s dying plea: “If my brother brings disaster on us, look after him for my father’s sake.” Tin-loi could only sigh at the tragedy.

A few days later, a group of frantic tenant farmers burst into the Leang house. “Lady Leang! Disaster! A mob of bandits has come to our fields at North Sand and is stealing the entire harvest!”

Lady Leang, ever compassionate, told the farmers, “Since it was bandits, I will waive your rent for the year.”

The farmers wept. “Mistress, your mercy is great, but we rely on that rice to survive the winter and celebrate the New Year! We have nothing left!” Lady Leang promised to find a way to provide for them.

The “Starving” Official

Hon-chiu raced to the Commander’s Yamen to report the crime. Commander Huang, having already pocketed Kwai-hing’s bribe, frowned and feigned illness. “What bad timing! I have a stomach ailment and haven’t eaten. This is public business, so I must go, but I can’t move until I’ve had a meal.”

“If you wait to eat, the bandits will be long gone!” Hon-chiu pleaded.

“The Emperor doesn’t use starving soldiers, and you want to use a starving official?” the Commander roared.

Hon-chiu was silenced. He waited for over four hours. Finally, after a long meal and an even longer preparation, Commander Huang mounted his horse and led his troops out—slowly—toward the fields.

Hon-chiu followed the troops. At first, he worried he wouldn’t be able to keep up, but the Commander kept his horse at a leisurely crawl. A man of eighty could have outpaced them, let alone the fifty-year-old Hon-chiu. By the time they reached the North Sand fields, there wasn’t a shadow of a bandit left—only a scene of devastation. Interestingly, the neighboring fields on both sides remained untouched, their stalks still heavy with grain like a sea of yellow clouds.

Commander Huang looked around and asked, “Are these neighboring fields yours as well?”

“No,” Hon-chiu replied. “They belong to other families.”

“How strange!” the Commander remarked. “If these were truly bandits, why would they discriminate? Why is your family’s crop stripped to the last grain, while the others aren’t touched by a single hand?”

Hon-chiu was speechless. The Commander continued, “I suspect you owe someone money, and they simply came to collect your debt in kind.”

“I owe no one!” Hon-chiu cried. “It must be the work of an enemy.”

The Commander barked, “If it’s a dispute with an enemy, why did you report it as a bandit robbery? You ignorant villager—learn the weight of your words!” With that, he turned his horse around and rode away.

Hon-chiu stood dazed for a long moment before returning to tell Lady Leang. She realized there was nothing they could do. Hon-chiu suggested, “Should we send word to Tin-loi and have him come home to decide our next move?”

“There is no need,” Lady Leang sighed. “It’s near the end of the year and the sugar firm is busy. Let’s not distract him. Besides, if he comes back, he’ll only let out a few sighs. He is even more afraid of trouble than we are!” Hon-chiu dropped the matter, and Lady Leang busied herself arranging aid for the starving tenants until they left with their thanks. Fortunately, the sugar business had been prosperous; a lesser family would have collapsed under such a blow.

A New Year and Two Very Different Houses

Time flies like an arrow; the days and months shuttle by. Soon the winter ended and spring returned, bringing the sixth year of Yongzheng (1728). Tin-loi managed the business in the city until New Year’s Eve, when he finally returned home with Kwan-loi and Yeung-fuk to celebrate. In Guangdong, major shops and firms usually don’t reopen until the twentieth day of the first lunar month, so the men looked forward to several days of family joy.

At the Ling residence, however, the scene was entirely different. His “brothers in wine and meat”—a pack of foxes and dogs—spent their days gambling and drinking. Their most “refined” pastime was grabbing drums and gongs and making a deafening racket.

One morning, seeing a few orchids blooming in the courtyard, Kwai-hing felt a surge of high spirits. He decided to host an “Orchid Viewing” banquet. In the Hall of Abundant Harvest, which still bore the scars of last year’s riot, he laid out a massive feast. Truly, a gathering of every villain and scoundrel in the region.

In the middle of the drinking, Kwai-hing suddenly set down his cup and let out a deep sigh.

Zong-kong immediately swayed toward him with an exaggerated, scholarly air and asked, “I ask of thee, Nephew, why dost thou suddenly sigh? Zhi Hu Zhe Ye?“

Kwai-hing burst out laughing. “Uncle, why are you suddenly acting like a scholar?”

Zong-kong roared with laughter. “I’ve been spending so much time with Cousin Au lately and hearing his ‘Zhi Hu Zhe Ye’ that I’ve caught some of his ‘literary fragrance.’ I’m trying to learn, though I suppose I haven’t quite figured out where to put the ‘Ye’ yet!”

The crowd erupted in laughter. Cheuk-hing smiled and asked, “Jokes aside, Nephew, truly—why the sigh?”

Kwai-hing sighed and said, “I only hate that Tin-loi’s stone room has ruined my Feng Shui. If not for that, I would have passed the provincial exams the year before last. Had I passed, I would have certainly succeeded in the Imperial examinations and become the Zhuangyuan (the top scholar of the empire). How else could the top spot of the 1727 exams have gone to that man Peng Qifeng?”

Note: The author correctly cites Peng Qifeng, who was indeed the top-ranked scholar (Zhuangyuan) in the 5th year of Yongzheng (1727).

“Why distress yourself?” Au Cheuk-hing replied smoothly. “He cannot guard that stone room forever. Since this isn’t an exam year, let us use our strength to seize it. Even if we can’t take the property, we can tear it down. I guarantee that by next year (1729), you will be the top scholar of the province, and the year after that, the top scholar of the Empire! I drink to your future success!” The thugs erupted in cheers as Cheuk-hing drained his glass.

Kwai-hing continued, “I feel my luck is simply inferior. Look at these flowerpots for our orchid viewing—they are common, coarse ware. Back when we had the Kwang-yuen firm in Nanxiong, we had twenty-four jade flowerpots and a set of rosewood (Huali) furniture. Tin-loi took them all. If they were here, how they would shine!”

Zong-kong roared, “If they belonged to the firm, both families have a right to use them! Who does he think he is, taking them for himself? Come, brothers! Help me go and take them back!”

The “Liu Bei Borrowing Jingzhou” Tactic

“Wait, Nephew!” Cheuk-hing interrupted. “Write a note first, saying you wish to ‘borrow’ them. If he agrees, we treat it like ‘Liu Bei borrowing Jingzhou’ (a famous historical reference to taking something with no intention of returning it). If he refuses, we take them by force. That way, we are polite before we are aggressive, and he cannot blame us.”

Kwai-hing was delighted and sent his servant, Hei-loi, with a note. After a long wait, Hei-loi returned. “He refuses! He says the items are in the provincial capital and have been lent to others.”

Zong-kong leaped up to attack, but Cheuk-hing stopped him again. “Wait! Let me organize this. Nephew, you must lead the way. We will knock on the door and say we have come to pay New Year’s respects and ask for the items in person. If you are at the head, there will be no trouble later. If others go, he might report a robbery to the Magistrate. We must guard against that.”

“How does my being there prevent trouble?” Kwai-hing asked.

“If you go yourself, how can he sue for robbery? Even if it goes before a judge, we will simply say you are cousins having a bit of fun. Who would care about a few old items? It becomes a ‘laughable lawsuit’ rather than a criminal case.”

“Brilliant!” Zong-kong cried. “Nephew, when you become Emperor, make this man your Grand Vizier!”

The Midnight Knock

Zong-kong dragged Kwai-hing toward the door, and the mob of thugs followed, leaving only Cheuk-hing behind to watch the house. When they reached the Leang gate, Kwai-hing whispered, “If he sees so many people, he won’t open up. Hide on both sides. Once I get the door open, you all rush in.”

Kwai-hing knocked. The servant Kei-fu asked who it was. “It is I!” Kwai-hing replied. Recognizing the voice, Kei-fu was terrified. He didn’t dare open the door and instead ran deep into the house to report the news. Lady Leang and the others were gripped with fear.

Will they open the door? Read the next chapter to find out.

Translator’s Note:

The Concubines (待妾 – Dàiqiè): Taking concubines during a formal mourning period was a massive violation of Confucian ethics. It signals that Kwai-hing has completely abandoned social propriety.

The “Starving Official” Tactic: Commander Huang’s delay is a classic piece of bureaucratic corruption called “Intentional Negligence.” By waiting four hours to eat, he ensures that by the time he arrives, Kwai-hing will have finished the robbery and escaped.

Tenant Farmers (佃戶 – Diànhù): In the Qing Dynasty, the relationship between landlords and tenants was the backbone of the economy. By stealing the harvest, Kwai-hing isn’t just hurting Tin-loi; he is starving dozens of innocent families, showing the “tigerish” greed mentioned in earlier chapters.

Zhi Hu Zhe Ye (之乎者也): These are four grammatical particles used in Classical Chinese. In the vernacular of the time, the phrase was used to mock someone who was trying too hard to sound educated but was actually a fraud. Zong-kong using them is a joke about his own illiteracy.

Orchid Viewing (賞蘭): Orchids were a symbol of the “Perfect Gentleman” (Junzi) in Chinese culture. Holding a drunken, rowdy banquet with thugs to “view orchids” is a sharp piece of irony by the author—it shows how the Lings are imitating high culture while acting like beasts.

North Sand Fields: The Commander’s logic was a legal trap. If it was a “robbery,” the military had to act. If it was a “dispute between enemies,” it was a civil matter for a magistrate. By claiming it was a private debt dispute, the Commander washed his hands of the bribe-funded crime.

Yongzheng 6 (1728): The story is moving toward its most violent climax. The year 1728 is historically significant as the year the real-life “Nine-Case” tragedy took place.

Zhuangyuan (狀元): This was the highest academic honor in China. Kwai-hing’s delusion that he is a “top scholar” held back only by a neighbor’s stone room shows how he uses Feng Shui as an excuse for his own failures.

Jade Flowerpots & Rosewood: These weren’t just decorations; they were massive assets. In the Qing Dynasty, high-quality jade and Huali (rosewood) furniture were worth fortunes.

Liu Bei Borrowing Jingzhou (劉備借荊州): A reference to The Romance of the Three Kingdoms. Liu Bei “borrowed” the territory of Jingzhou and never gave it back. It is a Chinese idiom for a “loan” that is actually a permanent seizure.