At once, the nearby lawmen obeyed the judge's booming command and seized the talkative Earth Sage, ushering him from the hall. They cared little for his title, or for the incessant recitations from the sacred Analects. Mere citations of the First Grand Earth Sage did little to soften the weight of the accusations. When compared to cities such as Omashu, Ba Sing Se had never been particularly inclined toward unconditional reverence for the sages. It seems the ghost of Earth King Jia Lun's atrocious reign still gnaws the present.
Mayumi's gaze flicked briefly toward Shan's expression. The White Scholar might have derived a quiet satisfaction from Ju Qi's removal, though nothing in his countenance betrayed even a hint of it. His features remained composed, polished indifference masquerading as scholarly restraint.
"Now, I would like to hear from the victim herself," Magistrate Bao declared. "Send forth Le Hongniang."
A ripple of unease passed through the chamber. Both the accused and his father stiffened. Naqie Fu, visibly agitated, hurriedly insisted that Le Hongniang would deliver nothing but false testimony, fabricated solely to besmirch the honor of the Naqie household.
"I will render the final verdict," Magistrate Bao replied evenly, cutting through the protest.
At length, Le Hongniang was brought into the hall. Yet she did not walk of her own accord. Instead, two courthouse constables bore her in on a bamboo stretcher, as though she were already half departed from the world of the living.
She lay motionless. Only the faintest rise and fall of breath distinguished her from a corpse. Bruises marred her skin in dark, indiscriminate blooms, and dried blood traced uneven paths across her face and garments. A few in the chamber averted their eyes. Others stared, rigid and unsettled as if witnessing something that should not exist within the confines of law. Le Tiqian knelt beside her and gently smoothed her hair with trembling care, as though such tenderness might anchor justice to righteousness.
The magistrate opened his mouth to begin questioning, but paused. The woman is barely conscious, interrogation would be an exercise in cruelty, not truth.
"Naqie Lai," he said at last, redirecting attention to the accused. "The victim lies before this court. What have you to say in your defense?"
"I am innocent!" Naqie Lai burst out. "T-this woman is a whore! Look at her, she clearly deserves it!"
A loud slam echoed through the hall as the magistrate struck the table. The sound silenced the room instantly, leaving only tension hanging in the air. Naqie Fu hastily stepped forward again, bowing low.
"Your Honor," he interjected, lowering his voice into practiced supplication. "My son is still young. Please grant leniency for his lack of discipline."
The magistrate, the assembled lawmen, and even the two observers accompanying the substitute scribe exchanged unsettled glances. Naqie Lai is near thirty years of age, where ignorance could no longer be mistaken for youth. Even leniency to the young people who transgressed this city's law isn't relevant here.
"The ancient laws of our city also stipulates that save for treason, those of noble or distinguished lineage may be spared certain minor offenses," Naqie Fu argued. "We ask only that tradition be honored, as it reflects the will of our ancestors. Furthermore, my son has not taken a life. There is no conclusive proof that he bears responsibility for this woman at all."
It was a stubborn argument. By invoking the laws and rites of the past, it forces those that went against it seem like detractors from the very culture of the Earth Kingdom. But the Magistrate, while certainly not an avid critic against how the philosophical tradition of Earth Sages have held a significant monopoly over the realm's education, have executed wrongdoers with more consequence. Mere spirits of the ancestors aren't even vocal enough to object anyway.
"The spirits of our ancestors are not summoned to this courtroom to obscure justice," replied the magistrate coldly. He then fixed Naqie Lai with a steady, unyielding gaze before continuing. Eventually, it forced the suspect to look back at the judge. "Multiple witnesses from the vicinity of your residence report that you led a group of household servants in the abduction of Le Hongniang. She was taken into the estate and remained within its walls for several hours thereafter." Magistrate Bao leaned forward from his seat slightly, somehow looking down even at his target more. "Do you confirm, or deny?"
Despite being a dimwit, even the suspect now finally realize that a single wrong word is enough to force one's neck at the executioner's blade. He is not alone in this. One needed only read between the lines to discern that the Magistrate would not be satisfied with punishing Naqie Lai alone.
"Your Honor!" Naqie Lai stammered. "No one saw me do it! I made sure no one did!"
It sounded less like a denial and more like an inadvertent confession. The Naqie patriarch could only curse silently at such a clumsy admission.
To further strengthen the case, the Magistrate ordered one of his constables to bring in an additional witness, this time, directly from within the Naqie residence itself!
"W-what?!" Naqie Fu exclaimed, indignantly protesting this supposed breach of his family's dignity.
But his objection fell on deaf ears. Magistrate Bao had earlier already arranged for someone to be escorted from the estate before the patriarch could intervene.
A young servant girl, no more than a teenager, was brought before the court. She introduced herself as Ling Xian, one of the many maids that labored at the Naqie family's ancestral manor.
"Your Honor," she said, her voice surprisingly steady and more articulate than that of the Naqie heir himself. "I and the other servants of the Naqie household did indeed see Naqie Lai bring Le Hongniang into his private quarters… by force."
"Y-you viperous wretch!" Naqie Lai spat, attempting to intimidate her into silence.
Such outburst was cut short as a nearby constable brought down his wooden staff without hesitation, forcing him back into submission.
"Aside from those employed for mundane chores within the household," the Magistrate pressed evenly. "Who else has witnessed these events within the mansion walls?"
A heavy silence followed. The servant girl felt the weight of many gazes upon her, especially that of the patriarch who clearly can decide the consequences of her livelihood.
"His parents… and his younger brother are aware," Ling Xian said with visible strain. "Le Hongniang only managed to escape because the rest of us helped her."
"You!" Naqie Lai surged forward again in fury, only to be struck down once more by the constable's thick cane. The blow teared at the fabric of his silken robes.
"Your Honor, this is a baseless accusation!" the patriarch interjected immediately.
Yet the protest found little purchase with the seasoned Magistrate, who was already recognizing a troubling pattern.
"Naqie Fu," Magistrate Bao said, his tone weary but incisive. "You were aware, were you not?"
"W-what?" the patriarch replied, dumbfounded.
"I am increasingly suspecting this is not the first time you have granted leniency to your son," the Magistrate continued. "I have received no shortage of complaints regarding your household, allegations of your son harassing the daughters and wives of others."
The magistrate's hand slowly drifted toward a small wooden box resting upon his desk. Inside lay wooden command tablets, each inscribed with the character 令.
At first, Satchiko was confused by the spectacle before her, an unfamiliarity with the sophisticated court system of the mainland Earth Kingdom leaving her momentarily adrift. Yet her pair of green eyes quickly fixed upon Naqie Fu and Naqie Lai, both now panicked and unrestrained, their earlier composure unraveling as they begged for the judge's mercy.
"Shan," Magistrate Bao said to the substitute scribe, his tone measured and unhurried. "As our great city's newest Zhuangyuan graduate, I will permit you to recite our city's bylaws regarding those found guilty of defiling the virtues of others."
A tiny smirk manifested on the White Scholar's face before he spoke.
"With leisure, Your Honor." Shan complied at once, seizing the opportunity with evident pride. He sated his voice clearly through the hall as he demonstrated scholarly expertise. "In accordance with the penal code of Ba Sing Se, all cases of forcible and illicit harm are to be punished by strangulation. If the act results in injury, the punishment increases accordingly."
Effectively, death.
"What?" Satchiko whispered under her breath, slightly confused by the varied method of punishment. The White Scholar, seated beside her, merely responded in a quieter tone, urging his pupil to observe the sequence that would follow.
"Your Honor!" Naqie Fu's earlier stubbornness shattered. "He is my eldest son! My most promising heir!"
"You mistake my meaning," the magistrate replied, unmoved by the father's desperation. "Naqie Lai may not be the only one."
"I will do anything!" the patriarch cried.
Driven by frantic devotion to preserve his bloodline, as the eldest are often valued above the younger siblings, the patriarch hastily emptied his purse, sending a bag of golden sycee clattering onto the magistrate's table. It is an amount approaching half the official's annual salary. Yet this blatant attempt at bribery, born of sheer desperation, was met with cold disdain.
Deeply insulted, both by the affront to his integrity and the overt corruption before him, Magistrate Bao swiftly ordered the funds confiscated and Naqie Fu restrained for disturbing the court's order.
"You had years to reign in your son just I do upon you now, perhaps it is time you too learn the consequences." The magistrate turned toward the nearby lawmen, even lamenting that earlier intervention would have prevented the entire situation. "Since the Naqie family claims distant royal lineage, we shall employ the serpentine chopper today."
At last, the wooden tablet was cast to the floor. Though it made no thunderous sound, Naqie Lai appeared as though the world itself had collapsed into chaos. His voice breaking as he begged for mercy.
The initial confusion in Satchiko's gaze faded as the lawmen brought forth the instrument seen earlier, a metal apparatus shaped with a serpentine curve. Compared to the others, its blade was far less corroded, suggesting how rarely it was required for more base born offenders.
"It's a guillotine," Mayumi finally said, resolving Satchiko's uncertainty. The older Kyoshi Warrior had already noticed her sister's questioning glances at the trio of execution devices. Apparently, Mayumi had witnessed this mechanical contraption during a diplomatic prior visit to Chin Village many years ago, where the severity of its penal code revealed itself without restraint.
Several lawmen surged forward, pinning Naqie Lai with the clear intent of forcing him onto the device. Yet something remained unaccounted for. The scion's most loyal followers, his bodyguards, sprung into a sudden fervor, toppling stationed officers and joining the struggle. All the while, Naqie Fu remained motionless, neither intervening nor commanding them to stand down.
Either wealth ran deeper than reason, or some more obscure fever had taken hold of these audacious men.
"Run!" the patriarch shouted as his wayward son broke free from restraint.
In response to the daylight eruption of violence, the magistrate immediately ordered the courthouse doors sealed. Yet even as the two lawmen stationed at the entrance strained against the weight of the timber, the vast doors groaned and inched shut with agonizing slowness.
And yet, instead of seizing this brief opportunity to flee, perhaps to live thereafter as a hunted fugitive, Naqie Lai did the opposite. He pivoted, not toward escape, but toward vengeance. His voice tore through the chamber in a ragged scream, fury not aimed at the magistrate, but at the man he believed had woven the intricate net of his ruin. It is the loquacious scribe who spoke too freely.
"White Scholar!" Naqie Lai bellowed.
At this declaration, and amidst the escalating chaos of lawmen clashing with Naqie Lai's retinue, Shan remained unperturbed. He even took the time to gently blow across his cup of oolong tea, cooling it with almost ceremonial patience, before at last deigning to regard the approaching reprobate.
"Yes?" the gentleman replied evenly, leisurely sipping the brew.
"Ah!"
Aggravated by that single syllable, so calm and dismissive, Naqie Lai surged forward, pushing past his mortified father and launching himself toward Shan's table. It was a reckless motion, almost absurd in its futility.
Before Satchiko could even commit to action, she felt a firm squeeze on her shoulder. Mayumi was already moving.
With no time for hesitation, the swordswoman drew her dao and surged past the pupil, the blade flashing as it cut forward with decisive precision.
"No!" the patriarch cried out.
Steel met flesh with brutal certainty. The blade swung cleanly through Naqie Lai's wrist, severing the hand in a single, decisive stroke. His scream shattered the air, but Mayumi's attention had already shifted, not to the falling man, but to the authority still present in the hall.
"Your Honor," the bodyguard said quickly, turning toward the magistrate and offering the formal fist and palm salute while the held blade angled safely toward the floor. "I sincerely apologize for staining the floor of this hall. Like many armed retainers, I am not of this city."
The stern magistrate raised a hand, dismissing her concern with measured composure, even as the patriarch hurried to restrain his grievously injured son.
"Though I would have preferred you subdue the scoundrel without drawing blood," the magistrate replied evenly. "Your actions constitute proportional self-defense under the laws of this city."
Mayumi bowed, acknowledging the reasonable ruling with quiet gratitude. Given the context, no reasonable magistrate would condemn the restraint of a rampaging criminal, especially one already condemned for heinous crimes against the innocent.
"Pupil," Shan said to Satchiko, who is standing slightly closer to the bleeding creature than the scholar himself. "Careful."
"Got it," Satchiko replied, almost absentmindedly. Her hand slipped quietly from the pocket where her remaining metal fan rested.
A trio of lawmen soon stormed across the hall. Elsewhere, their colleagues were already subduing the remaining retainers, those reckless enough to provoke violence within a government building now earning the severest consequences. The magistrate's men shoved Naqie Fu aside and seized his son without ceremony. The accused was pressed down onto the guillotine, his neck aligned beneath the looming blade.
"Pupil, perhaps there is no need for you to witness this part," Shan advised despite the usual cold demeanor "It may be more prudent for you to withdraw. We will reconvene once this matter has concluded."
Satchiko's gaze lingered on the condemned man, and on the severed hand lying discarded nearby. For most youths in Ba Sing Se, seeing such scenes are unthinkable. For her, while harrowing for both eyes, are not new.
"It's fine, Shan," she said. "I will stay."
A brief silence followed. Shan closed his eyes and gave a single, restrained nod. Perhaps in the scholar's view, such composure is only natural for someone raised beyond Ba Sing Se and Omashu's sheltered walls. Those who lived outside the great cities of the Earth Kingdom rarely enjoyed the luxury of safety. In lands scarred by endless conflict, death is no abstraction or theme of literature. It is commonplace. Senseless wars do indeed pile the corpse mounts towards the heavens.
Before the great blade, its polished edge reflecting his own distorted face, Naqie Lai finally broke. He pleaded, begged, and bargained for mercy.
"Mercy, Your Honor! I will not do it again!"
"Naqie Lai," Magistrate Bao intoned solemnly, lifting another wooden tally from his desk. "Were I to spare you today, neither heaven nor earth would abide your continued existence. Your crime of violating morality by harming the common people cannot go unanswered. In accordance with the laws of this city, I sentence you to beheading. 铡!"
Like a blade cast into motion, the magistrate flung the wooden tally downward. Not even Naqie Fu, desperate to intervene, could reach it before it struck the floor. Yet even had he succeeded, it would have changed nothing.
The executioner's hands tightened on the guillotine lever. With a single decisive motion, and a yell, the blade is slammed downward.
A severed head struck the ground and rolled to a stop near the magistrate's table. As Naqie Fu saw this, the patriarch can only faint to the cold stoney floor.
"The remainder of the Naqie household will be placed under investigation," the magistrate declared, rising without a glance at the corpse as he walked past it. As for the victim who is still lying on the ground, he used a nearby piece of embroidery and give it to the father, who covered it over the still heavily injured Le Hongniang.
Only then did the magistrate step out into the hall, addressing the gathered citizens. He spoke in a plainer manner, assuring them that justice had been served and order preserved. Any responsible official would ensure that the people's concerns were heard and that no false rumor would take root.
Thus concluded the court case. Judging by the murmurs of approval from the crowd outside, both locals and visiting farmers from the Agrarian Zone appeared satisfied with the verdict. At least the victims and their kin could find some measure of solace in the knowledge that the perpetrators had been executed or confined behind cold iron.
"Long live the magistrate!"
As Shan gathered his belongings and Mayumi quietly wiped the blood from her blade, the pupil could not help but steal a glance at the still-troubled father. The weight of the day lingered in the hall like dust that refused to settle.
"It could be worse," Shan remarked, having noticed her silent pity toward the victims. "I have heard of distant places in this world where perpetrators are shown undue leniency, while the victims are punished and made to suffer twice over. By that measure, anything less than what transpired today would be a disservice to those who were harmed."
To this, Satchiko gave a small nod. It was a sentiment she had long since accepted, even in her youth. Shortly thereafter, the magistrate's attendants escorted the victim out of the courthouse hall and toward the adjoining administrative building's medical office.
With the day's docket concluded, even the substitute scribe was granted a reprieve. Yet it seemed the day still reserved one final interruption before its conclusion.
Once the lawmen struck their canes against the stone floor, formally adjourning the court, Shan announced the next part of the schedule. It is partaking in dinner with fellow young scholars in the Middle Ring.
The bodyguard produced an invitation from her pocket, the very one Shan had entrusted to her earlier. Despite his staunch Legalist convictions, the White Scholar seemed to maintain a surprising circle of acquaintances who either ignored or were indifferent to his philosophical allegiance. One particularly enterprising poet had even granted him access to the esteemed establishment of Li Wa's White Peony.
Perhaps this is the distinction between youthful scholars and those rigid Earth Sages who clung to tradition above all.
"There will be free food, right?" Satchiko asked while all around the hall are lawmen who swept and wiped the floors in methodical silence.
For a moment, the White Scholar appeared taken aback. He had likely envisioned the gathering as a sober exchange of ideas, something akin to the philosophers of the ancient, debating schools of thought over cups of warm tea. Yet, given his pupil's appetite and the fact that she had missed lunch due to the protracted proceedings, the question is not entirely unreasonable.
"Yours truly believe so," Shan replied in his customary measured tone. "Our host is known for his hospitality. I am certain the fare will be as refined and dignified as any gathering of Ba Sing Se's gentlemen."