Er Mao, standing at the back of the crowd, stood dejectedly on the ground. The surrounding noise surged like a tide: vulgar curses, triumphant laughter, shouts, screams, and even the cries of a child.
There were so many conflicting opinions that Er Mao thought to himself, "Caishikou is indeed Caishikou. Even Caishikou in the south of the city is hundreds of times better than the one near my home."
He came all this way to see the execution of the former dynasty's tyrannical emperor, not to listen to this cacophony of noise and watch these stinking old men.
So he tried to stand on tiptoe, hoping to catch a glimpse of what the Dharma assembly looked like from among the countless backs.
But he wasn't the only one standing on tiptoe; he could still only see those irrelevant people. Er Mao had long heard his father say that the tyrannical emperor was tyrannical, extravagant, and the most despicable sinner on this land.
Today, she will be punished and executed, and will surely have to pay the full amount owed.
Since the execution was to take place today, Er Mao thought that she must be subjected to the most severe punishment, which would most likely be slow slicing.
Although Er Mao had never seen what the Lingchi execution was like, he had asked someone about it. They said that Lingchi involved using a sharp knife to slowly slice off pieces of flesh from the prisoner's body.
The executioner must be a highly skilled executioner who can do everything possible to save the prisoner's life during the execution.
It is said that a skilled executioner can make 360 cuts, and by then the prisoner's skin is almost completely gone, yet he is still alive.
This was an extremely terrifying method of execution; just thinking about it sent chills down Er Mao's spine, so he dared not stand on tiptoe anymore.
Only then did he realize that his sister was holding his hand very tightly, so he turned his head to look at her.
The little girl was looking down at the ground with her head down. The gardenia in her pigtails had turned yellow and withered. She was almost pressed against Er Mao, and she was trembling all over, which made Er Mao tremble as well.
Er Mao was standing very close to his father, so the man looked down at Er Mao and joked:
"Hey, why is my man trembling?"
Er Mao wanted to argue, but ultimately didn't open his mouth because he was genuinely terrified. He deeply regretted coming to watch this spectacle and was angry at himself for being so impulsive.
"Sigh." He couldn't help but sigh.
"Brother." Wen'er glanced at him and called out timidly.
"Actually, there's nothing much to see," Er Mao said softly, and Wen'er nodded in agreement.
"Then why did you come along? What are you doing here?" Er Mao teased his sister, using his father's words as a way of expressing his frustration.
Just as Wen'er opened her mouth to speak, a loud gong sounded from ahead, and the noisy crowd immediately fell silent.
"They're here," the father said in a deep voice.
"Who?" Er Mao tugged at his father's sleeve.
"Our Emperor." It wasn't Er Mao's father who answered, but Zhao Zhennan, who was standing beside him.
Er Mao looked up at him. His uncle's face was unusually solemn. Although his temples were gray and his face was full of wrinkles, he stood straight like a soldier in formation.
"Come here, little girl." At this moment, the father suddenly bent down, picked up Wen'er, and carried her on his shoulders.
Seeing his younger sister, who was receiving generous treatment and could already see the scene ahead, Er Mao's eyes widened in surprise.
'And what about me?!'
The father's neck could only support one person, and Er Mao wouldn't fight with his sister for it. He could only look at his uncle, the only close person beside him at the moment, but his uncle was concentrating on looking ahead, because he could hear voices that were not very clear coming from the front.
Er Mao knew that it was probably His Majesty speaking, since everyone was listening quietly.
It seemed that his uncle's neck was too high to reach, so Er Mao had to try to stand on tiptoe, but he still couldn't see anything, and he couldn't even hear what His Majesty was saying. He was too far from the center of the execution ground.
He could only vaguely hear fragments, like something like:
"...nepotism and persecution of loyal and virtuous officials..."
"...Abuse of power has ruined the country and corrupted the government..."
"...they levied exorbitant taxes, lived in extravagance, and preyed upon the people..."
"...ceding territory to seek aid, paying reparations to appease foreign powers, and humiliating the nation by surrendering its sovereignty..."
"......."
Er Mao initially wanted to write down how many charges there would be so he could have something to talk about later, but he couldn't remember them all, so he had to give up.
But being unable to see His Majesty and only being able to listen to him list crimes was truly boring, so he squinted as he glanced at the sun in the sky.
It's almost noon.
Er Mao thought it should be about time, so he pricked up his ears and listened intently again.
As expected, following the declaration, "His crimes are blatant and intolerable to Heaven; today he shall be beheaded and his head displayed to the world," deafening cheers suddenly erupted.
Countless people were shouting and yelling, their voices like rolling thunder, so loud that Er Mao's ears felt like they were going to burst, and he had to quickly cover his ears.
At this moment, the father put his sister down and hugged her in his arms from the opposite direction.
Er Mao sensed something was amiss and knew that the execution was about to take place. He quickly grabbed his father's waist and pressed his face against his body.
Of course, this was superfluous, because he couldn't see anything at all.
The crowd was in an uproar. Many people were walking forward, shouting excitedly. Then, the chaotic shouts suddenly turned into laughter.
Hearing the bursts of laughter, Er Mao was puzzled.
The laughter didn't last long; in a very brief moment, all voices disappeared.
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