12dz Chapter 28 Voluntary
Chapter 28 Voluntary
Song Quyou stepped into the outer hall on the top floor, his gaze sweeping over the tall pile of case files.
The ship owner remained in the inner hall, hidden behind a gauze curtain; his voice could be heard, but he could not be seen.
Before the long sandalwood table, Song Quyou held a sword in one hand and unfolded the scroll with the other, carefully examining it.
Above it was a handwritten note of someone voluntarily dedicating themselves to the river, and below it were the names of thirty-six people who pressed their fingerprints.
Behind the gauze curtain, a woman said with a sorrowful and helpless expression, "These thirty-six people all entered the river voluntarily."
Upon hearing the explanation, Song Quyou's eyes flickered. He picked up the stack of case files beside him and opened them one by one.
These case files contain handwritten notes written by individuals who voluntarily sacrificed themselves, marked with bright red, blood-red handprints, some weathered, some delicate, some large, some small.
The top document that Song Quyou opened was about a grain merchant named Chen Santai who, unable to repay a huge debt, voluntarily threw his body into the river, hoping that his death would erase the debt and spare his wife and children from harm.
The second story is about a woman named Zhou Qiaoniang. Her husband died early, and she had one son who was seriously ill. She had exhausted her family's wealth to treat the illness, and she did not want to burden her only son. So she gave herself up for ten taels of silver to support her son's marriage and the birth of his children.
The third case involves Li Dajiao. His wife and daughter, seeing the handsome son of the county magistrate, secretly harbored lustful thoughts and forced him to commit adultery. He aided and abetted the crime, severely injuring the son. He was fined fifty taels of silver, but unable to repay the exorbitant debt, he voluntarily offered himself up, leaving his mother with even greater debts.
The fourth, the fifth, the sixth...
Each case is different, yet the same: the names and reasons differ, but the common thread is a desperate, helpless situation...
Song Quyou stared coldly at the inner hall hidden by the gauze curtain.
A voice came from inside the hall again, "Does the Daoist understand this?"
"Understand? What do you want me to understand? Understand that they all did it voluntarily? Understand that they all signed their consent forms?"
Song Quyou slowly removed his hand from the case file on the long table, his palm, which was still warm, trembled slightly from the cold.
"The ship owner kindly allowed me to see these handprints." His voice was not loud, but it was very clear.
"But the most difficult thing to discern in this world is the word 'voluntary'."
"The case file says that Chen Santai owed a huge debt and was willing to sacrifice himself to repay it, but if he hadn't, wouldn't his wife and children have to be abandoned? Did he have a choice? He didn't. Zhou Qiaoniang was seriously ill and had exhausted her family's wealth. She was willing to die for her son. She had no choice. What's even more interesting is Li Dajiao. His wife and daughter were lustful and raped the son of the county magistrate. He himself aided and abetted the wicked and beat the man seriously. How ridiculous! Even wealthy people travel with one or two strong attendants. How could he be forced by two women? The victim was also pitiful. In the end, he was sentenced to fifty taels of silver, which also implicated his elderly mother at home. He had no choice! All of this was voluntary."
The inner hall remained silent for a long time.
A very soft sigh came from behind the gauze curtain, like a ripple on the surface of the river caused by a breeze, which was then covered up by the surging waves and disappeared in an instant, unnoticed by anyone.
"The Taoist priest is right." The boat owner's voice was slightly hoarse. "They had no choice. But in this world, it's not about choosing or not choosing, but about living or not living."
Song Quyou tightened his grip on his sword. Indeed, as the ship owner had said, the helplessness in this world was not a matter of choice, but of life or death. Even if Song Quyou could figure out who the culprit was, there was nothing he could do. They could not be killed or eradicated, and their numbers continued to multiply endlessly.
"What's in that box?"
The ship owner's voice trembled slightly, tinged with bitterness: "Longevity Powder."
Song Quyou took a deep breath, his bright eyes gleaming as he looked into the inner hall: "But..."
He started to speak, but found it difficult to say it.
But the ship owner in the inner hall chimed in: "His Majesty ascended the throne at the age of twenty and has been on the throne for over forty years."
"Ambitious in youth, cowardly in old age." Song Quyou shook his head helplessly and smiled. "This is truly a melodramatic plot, and an inescapable law of fate."
The inner hall remained silent for a long time. A breeze from the river blew by, causing the gauze curtains to flutter, as if someone was trembling gently behind them.
Outside the window, the sky was already bright, and the soft light of the rising sun sprinkled on the water, breaking into tiny fragments.
Song Quyou stared outside as the river rose higher and higher, gradually engulfing the window. The turbid river water surged in, impossible to stop.
"You scuttled the ship?" Song Quyou's voice was low, like a sword about to be drawn.
No one answered him.
Song Quyou hurried through the gauze curtain and entered the inner hall, where he saw a beautiful woman lying on the bed, blood gushing from her mouth.
"What is this all for?"
The woman frowned and choked up, "Women are born to love beauty. Even when they want to die, they dare not use a knife. They were drowned by having their boats scuttled, but they were afraid they could not bear the pain of suffocation. So they could only try this poison that they bought, and in the end, they died such a gruesome death."
Song Quyou frowned, his heart filled with mixed emotions.
The woman continued, "Daoist Master, yesterday I asked you if you were that Eight-Character Toad, would you be willing to sacrifice yourself to save people? You said you would not, and I would not either. But there is another thing to say: only if the Eight-Character Toad eats that poison can the other Eight-Character Toads live."
The river water had already reached above my knees, and it was icy cold.
Song Quyou looked at the woman on the bed. The bloodstains at the corner of her mouth were diluted by the river water, spreading out in strands, like ink dissolving in clear water, gradually turning into a light red color.
The ship sank faster and faster, until even the stilted prows sank into the river.
……
A blue rainbow pierced the sky as Song Quyou emerged from the water, his toes touching the floating wooden planks. He drifted with the current, remaining motionless for a long time.
As the sun rose higher and the river mist dissipated, the green mountains on both banks appeared like dark eyebrows. Early-rising fishermen, casting their nets from their small boats, saw Song Quyou drifting by on a plank no bigger than an arm's length and exclaimed that the River God had taken back his big boat and could no longer take back his small one.
Song Quyou took out a few taels of silver from his pocket, tossed them casually, and they landed in the fisherman's small boat.
"Old man, I am not the river god, I am a wandering Taoist priest, please help me cross over."
After receiving the money, the fisherman poled forward and helped Song Quyou onto the small boat.
"Master, how did that big ship sink?" The fisherman looked back at the river and saw nothing but a few pieces of wood drifting on the water.
Song Quyou sat at the bow of the boat, his soaked Taoist robe clinging to his body. He didn't answer, but just stared blankly at the river. The river was murky, carrying mud and sand, and too many other inexplicable things.
"Sir, do you think it's better to have a beginning and an end, or to have a beginning but no end?"
"That's a strange question, Taoist priest," the old fisherman said, taking out a pipe from his pocket, putting it in his mouth without lighting it.
"We're just fishermen, we don't think about these profound things. We just want to live each day well, catch more fish every day so that we can have enough for our family, and if we can afford a cigarette every day, we'll be satisfied."
Song Quyou turned to look at the old fisherman and said with a faint smile, "Then why don't you light it? What are you doing holding it in your mouth?"
"We can't smoke now. We have to wait until this day is over, and then we can smoke properly before going to bed."
……
The small boat reached the shore.
Song Quyou rose to express his gratitude, slung his sword over his shoulder, and stepped onto the wet stone steps of the dock.
The stone steps were slippery, and moss was growing vigorously in the crevices.
Song Quyou took a few steps and suddenly stopped. He turned around, took out a yellow talisman from his pocket, and said to the old fisherman, "Uncle, put this yellow talisman on your boat, and it will keep you safe."