Nine Lives of Unjust Suffering Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Forging a Three-Thousand Debt to Steal Three Hundred Silver; The Thugs Succeed While the Village Elder Suffers

Au Cheuk-hing addressed Kwai-hing: “If we simply round up a mob to rob them on the road, bystanders will intervene, and it will ruin the Ling family’s reputation. I have a plan. We shall write a false promissory note that reads: ‘In the 48th year of Kangxi, Leang Chiu-tai, due to a shortfall in purchasing sand-fields, borrowed three thousand taels of silver from Ling Tsung-hak. Interest to be paid monthly at one percent.’ With this note, we can claim we are merely collecting a debt. If they deny it, we take their silver by force. Bystanders will only see it as a dispute over a loan; who would dare call it a robbery?”

Kwai-hing was delighted. He ordered Zong-kong to gather men while Cheuk-hing forged the document. To make it look authentic, Cheuk-hing used rice dust and smoke to stain the paper until it took on the yellowed hue of an old record. Zong-kong recruited fourteen fierce thugs from the Ling clan—including Hoi-shun, the “ferocious” brother from before—and stationed them at key points along the road to Tea Village.

As fate would have it, disaster was brewing for Tin-loi. Had he and his brother simply hired a boat from Tea Village directly to the provincial capital, they would have been safe. Instead, Tin-loi felt he needed to stop by home first. Furthermore, having collected three hundred taels of silver, which was heavy to carry, they hired a small boat to take them to the Tam Village pier.

As the boat neared the dock, Tin-loi looked ahead and saw a man sitting in the roadside tea pavilion: it was Ling Kwai-hing, fanning himself with a folding fan and looking about expectantly. Tin-loi felt a chill of alarm and quickly split the three hundred taels with Kwan-loi, concealing the silver on their persons.

Author’s Note: Alas! Here Tin-loi made a fatal error. Having seen Kwai-hing and knowing the danger, he should have ordered the boatman to turn around and head for the city. Instead, he walked straight into the tiger’s mouth.

When they stepped onto land, Kwai-hing sauntered out of the pavilion to meet them. The Leang brothers tried to walk past as if they hadn’t seen him, but Kwai-hing called out, “Cousin Leang! Greetings!” They were forced to stop.

Kwai-hing approached with a smile, yet his eyes held a murderous glint. To his left was the rat-faced Au Cheuk-hing, and to his right was the fierce-eyed Ling Zong-kong. Tin-loi managed a stiff “Greetings” and tried to move on.

“Cousin!” Kwai-hing said. “We haven’t met in a while. Why the rush? I have a question for you.”

“What is it?” Tin-loi asked.

“That old debt of your late father’s—when exactly do you plan to settle it?”

Tin-loi was stunned. “What outstanding debt did my father have?”

Zong-kong let out a cold laugh. “See, Nephew? I knew he’d try to deny it. Luckily we still have the paperwork!” Kwai-hing produced the forged note and handed it to Tin-loi with a smirk. “This is your father’s handwriting; surely you recognize it.”

Tin-loi looked at it. “Whether the handwriting is real or not is one thing, but if this debt existed, why wasn’t it brought up when we split the business in Nanxiong?”

Kwan-loi shouted, “Brother, why waste time reasoning with him? If you want us to pay this ‘debt,’ let’s go to the Great King Temple! We’ll ring the bells and beat the drums before the Buddha, and I’ll pay you every cent right there!”

Author’s Commentary: Readers might find Kwan-loi’s remark amusing. Why would a statue care about a debt? In those days, people believed so strongly in the gods that such a challenge was proof of a clear conscience. Today, as superstitions fade, some might rejoice that “reason” is prevailing. But beware! The cunning and treacherous simply adapt; they no longer fear the gods, but they will still use “swearing an oath” as a tool to deceive and trap the honest.

Au Cheuk-hing stepped forward. “There is no need for anger. Kwai-hing is your close relative. He originally never mentioned this debt out of kindness. But lately, he needs three thousand taels to purchase ‘Charity Fields’ to support the poor of our clan. Would a benevolent gentleman like Kwai-hing, who seeks only to help his kin, ruin family harmony over a mere three thousand taels if it weren’t urgent? You deny the debt and grow angry; Kwai-hing might be patient, but I fear the rest of the Ling clan brothers will not be so forgiving!”

Before Tin-loi could answer, Zong-kong roared, “Where are the clan brothers?”

Realizing the trap was about to spring, Tin-loi shot a desperate look at Kwan-loi, signaling for him to run.

Before Zong-kong’s roar had even faded, thugs appeared from every direction: Liu Yu and Liu Quan from the left; Run Bao and Run Zhi from the right; Yue Wen and Yue Wu from the front; and Yue Shun and Yue He from behind. Kwai-hing, Cheuk-hing, and Zong-kong leaped onto the stone benches outside the tea pavilion. Zong-kong snatched the folding fan from Kwai-hing’s hand, snapped it open with a sharp crack, waved it, and shouted, “Seize the debt-dodgers! Search them!”

The eight men swarmed the Leang brothers. They pinned them down and systematically stripped them of the three hundred taels of silver. After delivering a brutal beating, they let go and escorted Kwai-hing away in triumph. Tin-loi and his brother fled, nursing their wounds.

However, as they rounded a corner in their haste, they collided head-on with another man: it was Hoi-shun. “The debt-dodgers are here!” he bellowed. Immediately, another group—Mei Xian, Zong Meng, Zong Ji, Zong Xiao, and Zong He—surrounded them. They delivered a second, even more vicious beating before howling with laughter and rushing off to catch up with Kwai-hing.

Back at the Ling residence, Kwai-hing took the center seat, flanked by his “advisors” Cheuk-hing and Zong-kong. As Kwai-hing prepared to distribute the spoils, Cheuk-hing handed him a slip of paper. “Keep this safe, Nephew.” It was the forged debt note. “When you showed it to him, you didn’t take it back immediately,” Cheuk-hing noted. “I was worried, but luckily in the chaos, he dropped it and I snatched it up. If this remained in the world, it would be trouble. Keep it; it may be useful again.”

Kwai-hing was delighted. He ordered the silver weighed: the fourteen thugs received ten taels each. Zong-kong and Cheuk-hing, for their “meritorious service,” received seventy taels apiece. The remaining twenty taels were spent on a lavish feast of fat fish, prime meats, and fine wine. They spent the night in drunken celebration.

Meanwhile, the Leang brothers limped home in agony. Lady Leang was heartbroken to see their injuries but felt utterly powerless. After a few months of recovery, Tin-loi returned to the city. On a later visit home, he happened to cross paths with Kwai-hing again.

Kwai-hing had become addicted to the feeling of power. He didn’t care about the money; to him, the robbery felt like a glorious battle where he was the Great General, flanked by a strategist and a bodyguard, commanding hidden troops from his “command platform” (the stone bench). He longed to play this “game” again. Seeing Tin-loi looking healthy and spirited on the road, Kwai-hing felt a surge of resentment. He wanted to beat him again, but he was alone and feared he couldn’t win a fair fight.

Just then, his clan uncle Yi-hang approached, carrying a manure basket and a hook—the lowliest of labors. Kwai-hing usually detested him, but seeing a potential tool, he called out, “Uncle! Hard at work? How have you been?”

“With nothing but my bare hands, doing this filthy work, how could I be well?” Yi-hang replied. “Unless you, my prosperous nephew, look after me.”

“I have a use for those bare hands right now,” Kwai-hing said. “I can guarantee you’ll strike it rich instantly. See Leang Tin-loi standing there? Go and beat him for me, and I will reward you handsomely.”

Yi-hang shook his head. “No, no! Tin-loi has shown me kindness; we have no grudge. How could I lay a hand on him?”

Kwai-hing was displeased, but Zong-kong arrived and chimed in: “Brother, have you lost your mind? Kwai-hing is family; Tin-loi is an outsider. Even if he helped you once, what of it now? Look at your basket—it’s empty. The sun is setting; how will you buy food? Are you going to go beg Tin-loi for it?”

Yi-hang hesitated. “If I do it, what is the reward?”

Kwai-hing declared, “For every blow, I’ll give you one bag of rice. If you have the strength to hit him a thousand times, you’ll get a thousand bags!”

“I’ll go, I’ll go,” Yi-hang said, dropping his tools. He paused, walked to a muddy ditch, and smeared filth over his face so Tin-loi wouldn’t recognize him. He rushed at Tin-loi and struck him across the face. Tin-loi, thinking he was being attacked by a madman, was dazed as several more blows landed. He turned and fled.

Yi-hang’s strength failed him quickly—not from physical fatigue, but from a flickering conscience. As soon as Tin-loi ran, he stopped. He returned to Kwai-hing and asked, “How many? Did you count?”

“Five!” Kwai-hing laughed. “Go home, Uncle. I’ll have five bags of rice sent to you immediately.”

Yi-hang hurried home and told his wife, Lady Zheng, to clear a space for the rice. But after hearing how he had earned it, Lady Zheng slapped him across the face and burst into a fit of wailing and shouting.

Translator’s Note:

The Forged Note: Au Cheuk-hing used “rice dust” (michen) to age the paper. This shows the sophistication of his villainy; he knows that a fresh white paper wouldn’t look like a debt from the Kangxi era (which ended in 1722, at least 4 years prior to this scene).

Charity Fields (贍族義田 – Shànzú Yìtián): This was a highly respected act in the Qing Dynasty—buying land whose profits would support the clan’s widows, orphans, and students. By claiming the money was for this, Cheuk-hing makes Kwai-hing look like a saint and the Leangs look like they are “stealing from the poor.”

Great King Temple (大王廟): Taking an oath before a deity was a serious legal and social matter. If a person lied after “ringing the bell,” it was believed they would be struck down by lightning. Kwan-loi’s willingness to go there is the ultimate proof of his innocence.

The “Rival of Zhuge” Tactics: Note how Cheuk-hing frames the robbery as a “family dispute over an inheritance.” This prevents the village from calling the police, as local authorities usually refused to interfere in “private family matters.”

The Manure Collector (拾糞 – Shífèn): In rural Qing society, collecting animal manure for fertilizer was the lowest possible social stratum. Uncle Yi-hang’s desperation highlights the extreme poverty that Zong-kong and Kwai-hing exploit.

Five Bags of Rice (五擔米 – Wǔdàn Mǐ): A dan was a significant unit of weight (roughly 100 liters/60kg). Five bags was enough to feed a small family for months. This shows how “cheap” a man’s dignity had become in the face of starvation.