Chapter 13 – Slaughterhouse (1/2)

Chapter 13: Slaughterhouse

Part 1

The second month, the twenty fourth.

Chang’an.

Before dawn.

The sky was a dark sheet, darker than any other time during the day.

Gao Jianfei sat alone in the darkness, so cold that it seemed his blood would soon freeze.

“I did no wrong,” he kept telling himself. “I didn’t let Zhu Meng down, and I didn’t let her down. I did no wrong.”

Love is fundamentally not wrong.

It is never wrong to fall in love with someone.

When he fell in love with Die Wu, he didn’t know she was Zhu Meng’s woman, never even imagined she could be.

But every time he thought of the look on Zhu Meng’s face when he saw Die Wu, he felt a knife-like stab of guilt and remorse.

And so he’d left.

At first, he’d wanted to rush over to Die Wu as she laid there in a pool of blood, forget about everything and just hold the only woman in his life, take care of her forever, love her forever, regardless of whether or not her legs were severed, just love her.

But Zhu Meng had already rushed over to hold her, and so he’d left quietly.

He could only leave.

—How far could he go? Where could he go to? How far did he have to go to be able to forget?

Who could answer these questions for him?

As daylight approached, the ground seemed to grow colder. Little Gao laid down on the snowy ground and stared up at the darkness of the heavens.

Then he closed his eyes.

With his eyes opened, he could only see a sheet of darkness, why not close his eyes?

“Will I die like this?”

He had closed his eyes, so he could only hear the cold voice of a person say, “This winter in Chang’an at least four or five people died like this in the cold, frozen like rocks. Even stray dogs couldn’t bite a piece off of them.”

Little Gao ignored him.

—When life suddenly becomes this painful, why not just die?

But it seemed this person wouldn’t let him die.

His jaw was wrenched open, and he felt something burning go down his throat and into his stomach.

His stomach suddenly felt like a roaring furnace, and warmth filled his body.

He opened his eyes and saw someone standing in front of him like a rock. In his hand was a box.

An ordinary person, an extraordinary box.

If this person wanted someone to live, he would find it difficult to die. And if he wanted someone to die, he would find it difficult to keep living.

Little Gao understood this.

“It’s good alcohol.” He sat up, trying as hard as possible to act nonchalant. “Is it Lu Zhou liquor?” (1)

“Seems so.”

“You can’t conceal the truth about this kind of thing from me. When others were still drinking milk, I had already started drinking alcohol.” Little Gao laughed, and it seemed as if it were a happy laugh. “Some people are born heroes, some people are born swordsmen, and some other people are born alcoholics.”

“You’re not an alcoholic.” The man looked coldly at Little Gao. “You’re a bastard.”

Little Gao laughed heartily. “Bastard, then. Anyway, what’s the difference between bastards and alcoholics?”

“There’s a difference.”

“What difference?”

“When you see it you’ll understand.”

“See what? Where?”

The man suddenly grabbed him by the side and flew with him into the air. They passed over countless rooftops before coming to a stop.

“Here,” he said. “Here you can see.”

They stood on the eaves of a tall building, overlooking an expansive garden.

The building was the first pavilion of the Chang’an Restaurant.

Part 2

The sky was growing bright, and in the murky, early-morning light, the red flowers were as elegant and bright as before. The strange thing was, the snowy ground also seemed to be covered with flowers.

“If you think those are flowers, you’re wrong,” said the man with the box. “It’s not flowers, it’s blood.”

Little Gao’s heart sank.

He knew it was blood, and he knew whose blood it was.

When Zhu Meng had arrived, he’d left his subordinates here, in preparation for the battle to the death with Zhuo Donglai.

“You must have known that Zhuo Donglai wouldn’t be unprepared,” said the man with the box. “His men weren’t here, they were outside. He knew you would have your forces stationed here, so he surrounded you from outside.”

Zhuo Donglai had mobilized three-hundred and twenty men, all of the best men he could muster.

“Even though he had several times as many men as you, Zhuo Donglai wasn’t willing to act rashly.”

“Because he knew that the men who had come from the Lion Clan were true men who didn’t fear death, and were here to go all out, regardless of the risk to their lives.”

“Risk to their lives?” the man with the box laughed. “Do you think risking one’s life does any good? If you risked you life going up against me, would it do any good? Would I be so scared that I wouldn’t make a move?” His question was sharp and without emotion, in a way that made it impossible to respond to. He didn’t even give Little Gao a chance to respond. “Sometimes risking one’s life only amounts to delivering oneself up to death. Zhuo Donglai wasn’t afraid of those men.”

“Who was he afraid of?”

“You!”

Little Gao laughed, a bitter laugh. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgot about my battle with Sima at the Great Wild Goose Pagoda?”

“But Sima is not in Chang’an.”

“Where is he?”

“In Luoyang,” said the man with the box. “He’s not like Zhuo Donglai. He has the same heroic spirit as Zhu Meng. It’s just that he’s controlled too much.”

“If Sima was in Chang’an, and was sent by Zhuo Donglai, how could he possibly deal with you and Zhu Meng? If his subordinates made a move first, would you let him go?”

Little Gao looked at the flower-petal-like bloodstains on the snow, and cold sweat broke out on his back.

If it hadn’t been for Die Wu, they would have had an excellent opportunity to execute Zhuo Donglai before the banquet.

“That was your one and only chance, and you let it slip away, because you left,” said the man with the box. “Of course, you should have left, because you’re a true man, and wouldn’t fall out with Zhu Meng because of a woman.” His voice was bitingly cold. “But did you ever think that you left at a time when Zhu Meng needed you the most? You left him a woman with severed legs, because you thought yourself a true friend. But I think you’re a truer friend to Zhuo Donglai, because you left him Zhu Meng and the Lion Clan’s eighty-six brothers.”

Little Gao couldn’t say anything, not even a single word. His clothes were completely soaked with sweat.

“So they risked their lives,” said the man with the box, “and sadly it didn’t do much good. After you left, this place became a slaughterhouse. Do you know what a slaughterhouse is like?”

Little Gao slowly lifted his head and stared at him, his voice hoarse with sorrow. “I don’t know. Do you?”

“Of course I know, because I was here when it happened.”

“You sat here and watched all those people slaughter each other like livestock?”

“I not only watched, I watched very carefully. I saw every sword stroke very clearly.”

“Did it make you happy to watch?”

“Not very happy, but not very sad,” said the man with the box, coolly. “Because it’s your issue, and has nothing to do with me.”

Little Gao had been struggling to hold back his fury, but it finally burst forth like flames from a furnace.

“Are you human?”

“Yes.”

“If you’re human, how could you sit by and watch others be butchered like animals?” The strength of his question would move anyone who had emotions. “Why didn’t you save them?”

The man laughter was cold enough to soak through to one’s marrow. “Why didn’t you stay behind and save them? Why did you you lay down in the snow to wait to die?”

Little Gao said nothing.

“If you really want to die, you don’t need to go look for death, because Zhuo Donglai has already planned it for you. He’s made arrangements with someone who can send you to your death at any time.”

“Sending me to my death isn’t an easy thing,” laughed Little Gao coldly. “Who is this person?”

“It’s true that not many people can send you to your death, but this person has never failed in an attempt to kill someone.”

“Oh?”

“You must know that some people in Jianghu make a living by killing others. The higher their prices, the less likely they will fail.”

“And he found the person with the highest price?”

“Yes.”

“You know who this person is?”

“I do. He’s surnamed Xiao, the same character ‘xiao’ as in the expression ‘the whistling of the sword energy.’(2) His full name is Xiao Leixue.”

“And you are Xiao Leixue.”

“Correct.”

Little Gao was completely composed. Only this kind of stabbing surprise could have pulled him out of his sorrow and confusion into composure.

The morning fog began to rise. He looked at this mysterious man, more mysterious than the fog itself, and sighed.

“This is really disappointing. I really never imagined that you would kill others for money.”

“I also never imagined it,” said Xiao Leixue. “It’s been a very long time since I killed anyone for money. That sort of thing isn’t very interesting.”

“So why are you making an exception?”

Xiao Leixue didn’t answer directly. His ash-like gray eyes filled with a mysterious expression.

“Everyone has a rope attached to their body, and most people are slowly bound tighter and tighter by it throughout their lives. For some people, the rope is family, wife, and children. For others, it is money, achievements, and responsibilities. People like you and Zhu Meng aren’t bound by those types of ropes, but you make ropes of your own nonetheless.” He stared at Little Gao. “Emotions. Your emotions are too powerful, and they are your rope.”

“And you?” asked Little Gao. “What is your rope? What kind of rope could fasten you?”

“It’s a contract.”

“Contract?” Little Gao didn’t understand. “What contract?”

“A contract of assassination.”

Xiao Leixue’s voice seemed to be coming from a distant place. “Right now I’m a hermit with more wealth than most countries. But twenty years ago, I was nothing but a nameless vagabond. I was like you, without friends, without relatives, without roots. Without anything except for this box.”

“The box is a weapon designed to kill people, so you started making a living by killing people?”

“The people I killed deserved to die. If I didn’t kill them, they would eventually have been killed by someone. Even though my prices are high, I’m very trustworthy. If I take a contract, I always complete it.” His voice was filled with ridicule, self-ridicule. “It’s because of this that I’m not able to sleep at night.”

“But eventually you washed your hands of it,” said Little Gao coolly. “Because you had made enough money.”

“Correct. I did eventually wash my hands of it, not because I had made enough money, but because one night after killing someone, I found that I couldn’t sleep.” He grasped his box. “People in my profession all agree that that is the most fearful thing that can happen.”

“So why are you still bound by your rope?”

“Because the contract I’m referring to is my earliest contract. It stipulates that at any time or place, he can ask me to kill someone. It doesn’t matter when or who, I can’t refuse.”

“And you never fulfilled the contract?”

“Never,” said Xiao Leixue. “Not because I didn’t want to, but because that person never came looking for me to fulfil it.”

“So, the contract is still valid.”

“Correct.”

“Why would you sign a death contract like that?” Little Gao seemed surprised. “The price he payed must have been enormous.”

“Correct.”

“How much did he give you?” asked Little Gao.

“He gave me a life.”

“Whose life?”

“My own. When I signed the contract, he could kill me at any place or time.”

“Killing you isn’t easy. Who is this person?”

Xiao Leixue refused to answer. “I can only tell you that the contract has been returned to me and there is a name on it.”

“The name of the person for you to kill?”

“Correct.”

“And the name is Gao Jianfei?”

“Correct.”

Xiao Leixue looked calmly at Gao Jianfei. Gao Jianfei looked calmly back at him. They were extraordinarily calm, as if killing and being killed were ordinary matters.

A long time passed.

Then, Gao Jianfei asked, “Do you know where Zhu Meng’s corpse is? I would like to go pay my respects.”

“There is no corpse of Zhu Meng,” said Xiao Leixue. “For the moment, he’s not dead.”

Little Gao’s breathing suddenly ceased. “He killed his way out again?”

“He didn’t kill his way out. Zhuo Donglai let him go. Otherwise he would never have had a chance.”

“Why did Zhuo Donglai let him go?”

“Because Zhuo Donglai wants to leave him for Sima Chaoqun,” said Xiao Leixue. “Zhu Meng’s death will cause a huge sensation in Jianghu. He usually leaves those types of things for Sima Chaoqun to accomplish.” He slowly continued, “To build up a hero isn’t an easy matter.”

“Right. It’s definitely not.”

After saying this, they both closed their mouths. Far in the distance could be seen a wisp of red smoke climbing up. In the midst of this murky early morning light, it looked almost like a stream of blood piercing the snow.

Then the wisp of smoke was dispersed by the wind. In a very strange voice, Xiao Leixue said, “There’s a special place I need to go to, and you’re coming with me.”

Where did the wisp of red smoke rise from? Did it have some special significance?

—Was it a signal? Was it a warning?

What was this special place? Why did Xiao Leixue want to bring Little Gao with him?

Sometimes people will pick a special place to kill someone. Was this place another slaughterhouse?

It wasn’t a slaughterhouse, and actually didn’t appear to be special at all. It seemed to be just a tiny village temple. A tiny temple situated on a remote path.

The gods of this small temple were a couple, earth spirits, and had clearly been long neglected. On this bitterly cold early morning of the second month, there definitely would be no incense burning.

Little Gao stood mutely next to Xiao Leixue, looking at the images of the spirits. They had seen the hypocrisy of the world, experienced together the transformations of time. He suddenly felt an indescribable loneliness.

He suddenly felt that these two simple spirits, who from ancient times had never been regarded as important, were more blessed than the mighty immortals and shining gods who resided at the top of the highest heavens.

—Die Wu. Why did you have to be Die Wu? Why couldn’t you be another woman?

He hadn’t asked about whether she was alive or dead, or where she was.

He couldn’t ask.

Because she didn’t belong to him, and he only hoped that he could take the few days they’d had together and make it into a dream.

Part 3

What was special about this place? Why did Xiao Leixue bring him here? What was he going to do?

Little Gao didn’t ask. Xiao Leixue said, “They know everything. Everything I did all those years, they know about all of it.”

“They?” asked Little Gao. “Who are ‘they?’”

“Them.” He was looking at the statues in the shrine. “This Earth Spirit grandfather and grandmother.”

Little Gao didn’t understand, and Xiao Leixue knew this.

“Twenty years ago, the people who could afford to hire me as an assassin all knew about this place,” he explained. “They would come here and leave the name of a location and a person. The location is where I would go to get the money, and the person was who I was to kill.”

—A remote village temple, a secret corner, a loose red brick, a carefully rolled strip of paper, an exorbitant price, a life.

So simple, and so complicated.

“If I believed that the person should die, then I would go to the location and retrieve the money. There is only ever money, never a person. My clients have never seen my face.”

“And what about those who have died by your hand?”

“People who force others to spend so much money on an assassination are usually worthy of death,” said Xiao Leixue. “So this little village temple is probably Chang’an’s greatest center of business.” Cynicism filled his voice. “Our profession is one of humanity’s most ancient professions, and definitely the most ancient profession for men.”

Little Gao understood.

As for the most ancient profession of women, it was a bit more ancient because women have access to the most natural of resources.

“Sixteen years. Sixteen years and three months. Such a long period of time.” Xiao Leixue sighed. “In that period of time, people were born, people grew old, people died. But this place doesn’t seem to have changed at all.”

“You haven’t been here in sixteen years?”

“Not until the day before yesterday.”

“After sixteen years, why would you suddenly come back?”

“Because I saw something I last saw sixteen years ago, what people in Jianghu call ‘blood fire’ smoke.”

“That’s the same as the smoke we just saw?”

“Yes.” Xiao Leixue continued, “When the blood fire appears, some important person in Jianghu will suddenly die. So, some people call it the ‘command of death.’ A bewitching command of death.” His explanation continued, “When someone leaves a message for me here, they must then go to the outskirts of the city and set off the red smoke. Starting in the early morning, three times. What you saw just now was the third time.”

“So when you came here the day before yesterday, you received the contract that you must fulfil.”

“Yes.”

“The person who traded your life for the contract was Zhuo Donglai?”

“No, it wasn’t him,” said Xiao Leixue coldly. “He’s not worthy.”

“But you think Zhuo Donglai is behind it.”

“I know. Of course I know.” His words were very strange: “After that person disappeared from the world, I could never figure out where he went to hide. Only now do I know.”

“That person” who he referred to was undoubtedly the person with whom he had entered into the contract.

—Who was this person? What mysterious relationship did he have with Zhuo Donglai?

Little Gao didn’t want to ask these question. He was exhausted, so completely exhausted that he felt he would collapse at any moment. But then, his vitality arose once again.

“I know that I’m in your hands. If I die under your hand, I can die satisfied, because I know that it’s at least better than dying under the hands of someone else. But, killing me won’t be easy.” He stared at the box in Xiao Leixue’s hand. “If you want to kill me, you have to open your box first. You have to open it before I draw my sword.”

His sword was in his hand. It was no longer wrapped in black cloth. Alone in Chang’an, he had long since prepared to draw it.

Xiao Leixue slowly turned around and looked at the hand holding the sword. Suddenly, a very strange expression filled his eyes.

The knuckles of the hand that held the box suddenly grew white. The veins bulged.

—When the treasured sword appeared, gods and ghosts trembled in fear.

—Whose tearstains marked the sword?

—Grandmaster Xiao’s.

—The treasured sword had already been forged. Why would he shed tears?

—Because he had foreseen a calamity. He foresaw within the spirit of the sword, that his only son would die beneath this blade.

—His only son is Xiao Leixue?

—Yes.

Part 4

Mist roiled in the bathing room. Zhuo Donglai was bathing, and it seemed as if he urgently desired to purge last night’s bloodstains from his body.

Located behind his quarters, the bathing room had been built as sturdily as a hidden treasure room.

Because he would not allow anyone to enter when he was bathing.

Because when bathing, people must be naked, and he was no exception.

Other than when he was a baby in his mother’s arms, Zhuo Donglai had never allowed anyone to see him naked in his entire life.

Zhuo Donglai was deformed, hypoplasticly deformed. (3)

His left leg was somewhat shorter than his right. The reason for his hypoplasia was that while in his mother’s womb, he had been squeezed by another person.

And that person was his younger brother.

Zhuo Donglai was a twin, and should have had a younger brother. A younger brother with whom to share their mother’s love and nourishmen.

But he was born first, and by that time his brother was dead in his mother’s womb. Dead along with her. “I’m a murderer, a natural-born murderer.” Zhuo Donglai would often call out in this way during nightmares. “My first act in life was to kill my mother and brother.”

He’d often believed that his deformity was a punishment from heaven. But he wasn’t completely convinced.

His incomparable determination and willpower overcame the congenital defects. After he grew up, no one could see that he was lame, and no one knew how much time had spent, how much pain and sweat he had experienced, just to be able to walk like a normal person.

But unfortunately there was something else that he was powerless to change, no matter what price he paid.

He could never really be a man. There was one part of his body that would always look like a baby’s.

The veins on the back of Zhuo Donglai’s hands bulged, popped out by the hot water. He liked to bath in scalding hot water.