Chapter 37: The Execution of Judge Lu—A Growing Malice in Men’s Hearts (Part Two)

As they entered the courtyard, they found Zhu Erdan unconscious amidst the ruins. Without ceremony, Zhuge Liuyun seized him by the collar and delivered several resounding slaps.

Zhu Erdan stirred groggily, uttering a startled cry, “Wife?”

“Don’t look for her. Your friend Lu devoured her alive. If you wish to see her remains, they’re over there,” Zhuge Liuyun replied coldly.

Not far away, a gruesome pile of flesh and viscera was strewn about. Zhu Erdan vomited uncontrollably. Zhuge Liuyun kicked him aside with a flick of his foot. “Now do you realize what kind of monster your friend Lu truly is?”

Yuanhui stepped forward and intoned, “Amitabha. Master Zhu, we are here to investigate the murders committed by Lu the Judge, who has brought disaster upon this land. We ask that you do not conceal anything and speak the truth.”

Terror filled Zhu Erdan’s eyes; he hesitated, his lips trembling, but remained silent. After a moment, seeing he would not speak, Yi Fan and the others exchanged glances, deciding it would be best to leave the matter for the authorities.

They did not force him further and led him outside. Before long, they saw hundreds of armed soldiers approaching at a jog, torches ablaze. Upon spotting them, the soldiers shouted, “Who goes there? Halt!”

A ring of drawn blades surrounded them. A commander in iron armor, mounted on horseback, barked, “You sneak about suspiciously—no doubt you’re criminals. Seize them!”

“Wait, General. We are guests of the Deng household, acting by their commission. Please show us some consideration,” Yi Fan interrupted, producing an iron token from his breast and tossing it over.

The commander caught it, examined it closely, and his expression changed at once. He dismounted immediately. “So you are honored guests of the Deng household. Forgive my offense—please accept my apologies.”

He signaled the soldiers to lower their weapons.

“No need for formality, General. We must return to the Deng residence on urgent business, so we’ll take our leave,” Yi Fan said, turning away.

Zhuge Liuyun dragged Zhu Erdan along. Their pace was swift, and soon they reached the gates of the Deng estate, where several constables and a stewardly figure awaited them.

Seeing Yi Fan and his companions, the steward’s face brightened and he hurried forward. “Masters, you’ve returned. My master and Master Zhu await you inside.”

Within, the mansion was brightly lit but quiet, few servants moving about. In the front hall, seven or eight people were seated. Three men in official robes, with gold-fish pouches at their waists, sat at the head; clearly, these were the magistrates of Hangzhou.

“Thank you for your efforts, gentlemen. Please, be seated,” Master Deng invited them. Then he introduced, “This is the Prefect of Hangzhou. Hearing you had uncovered leads, he came at once to await your return.”

After the customary courtesies, they took their seats. Zhuge Liuyun shoved Zhu Erdan forward. “Master Deng, here is your clue.”

All eyes turned to Zhu Erdan, who was in utter disarray, pale as death. Master Zhu looked confused. “And who might this be?”

“Zhu Erdan, what’s the meaning of this?”

Zhu Ziqiang recognized him immediately; he’d known as soon as Zhu Erdan entered. Sensing everyone’s puzzlement, he explained, “Though he bears our surname, there is no relation between him and my family. He passed the provincial exam last year and enjoys some reputation in Hangzhou.”

The assembly understood, but remained uncertain what clue Zhuge Liuyun referred to.

Without further ado, Yi Fan recounted the entire sequence of events. “But the details are best told by him.”

Zhu Erdan, pale and drenched in cold sweat, had collapsed in a heap. As everyone stared, he stammered, “I didn’t kill Miss Deng. I don’t know anything!”

“How dare you! Even now you try to lie?” The prefect slammed the table, shouting, “Must we throw you in the dungeon and subject you to torture before you’ll speak?”

At this, Zhu Erdan turned even paler. “I’ll talk, I’ll talk.”

Two years before, he had been a poor scholar with nothing but bare walls at home. His wife toiled at menial labor to make ends meet, while he occasionally earned a little by writing letters for others. Life was miserably hard.

At that time, tales spread in Hangzhou of a spirit called Judge Lu, famed for his efficacy. Peasants and even some gentry worshipped him, though the scholarly class scoffed.

At a gathering, after some wine and ghost stories, someone bet him he wouldn’t dare go up the mountain at night and carry down the Judge Lu idol that the villagers had set up. If he did, they promised to treat him to drinks forevermore.

Though he had his scholar’s degree, he was an old licentiate who had repeatedly failed the higher examinations, and his poverty made him the butt of jokes. Stung by pride, he accepted the wager, vowing to bring the idol by dawn.

Once outside, the night breeze sobered him and fear took hold—Judge Lu was said to have a fearsome visage: green face, red beard, terrifying to behold. To go at night and carry off the idol seemed a death sentence.

Yet to admit cowardice would be to invite ridicule. After long hesitation, he steeled himself and, with his wife carrying a torch, set off up the mountain.

The Judge Lu shrine was small and close to Hangzhou, half a day’s journey at most. Inside, a man-sized wooden idol loomed, fierce night-demon statues about it.

Both were so frightened their legs turned to jelly. They kowtowed, promising that if he ever passed the provincial exam, he would commission a golden image and worship Judge Lu in their home, with offerings of fine wine and meat.

Summoning his courage, he tied the idol with rope and hoisted it onto his back. Fortunately, his stature and strength sufficed for the task.

Not long after they set off, the weather turned violently—wind and rain snuffed their torch, and they stumbled their way down the mountain.

Strangely, once they reached the foot, the idol seemed to grow lighter, and the storm abated.

They rested in a corner outside the city until dawn. When the gates opened, he sent his wife home and, wrapping the idol in a robe, carried it to the appointed meeting place.

At the set hour, the others all arrived. Zhu Erdan unveiled the idol.

All were amazed and, soon, full of admiration. They praised his courage and the righteousness of a scholar; only such a man, they said, could carry the idol down from the mountain. His reputation soared overnight.

True to their word, they treated him to food and drink and pressed him for the tale. Learning he had accomplished it alone, their respect grew.

At this point, Yi Fan and his companions exchanged glances. He said, “The idol, worshipped by its followers, had gained a spirit. It should have been confined to the mountain, unable to cross the boundaries of the spirit domain. But Zhu Erdan carried it out, setting it free.”

Yuanhui nodded. “Indeed, the storm on their descent was a manifestation of the spirit domain’s disruption. Had he been a cultivator, he would have sensed it. Sadly, his scholar’s pride blinded him to the danger.”

The spirit domain is the realm of gods and spirits, generally delimited by the underworld and corresponding to the world of the living. Without a summons, spirits cannot cross its boundaries.

Zhuge Liuyun snorted. “This so-called righteous god, Judge Lu, was a fraud. No true god of the underworld would possess two offices and two domains.”

All agreed. Seeing Master Deng and the others still puzzled, they explained as much as they could without revealing forbidden secrets.