The Grand Marshal shouted for his guards to seize Lin Chong and take him away for execution, but Lin Chong cried out that he was innocent. The Marshal demanded, "What business did you have in the council hall? You stand here holding a naked blade—how is that not an attempt on my life?"

Lin Chong replied, "I would never have dared come without your summons. Two messengers came to my door and went into the hall ahead of me—they tricked me here."

"Rubbish!" the Marshal roared. "There are no messengers in my household! This wretch refuses to accept his punishment." He ordered his men to deliver Lin Chong to the Kaifeng prefectural court, instructing Prefect Teng to interrogate him thoroughly and pass sentence, and to seal the treasured sword as evidence.

The guards escorted Lin Chong to the courthouse, where the prefect was still in session. The courtroom bore all its customary solemnity: red silk draperies, purple tasseled hangings, vermilion plaques overhead, bamboo blinds around, officials upright beneath the imperial admonitions carved in stone, clerks attentive at their posts. Bailiffs stood with rattan switches before the steps, while others held heavy staves on either side. The prefect judged disputes as clearly as a jade balance, distinguishing right from wrong like a mirror of polished gold—a true father and mother to the people.

The Marshal's agents brought Lin Chong before the prefect, made him kneel at the foot of the dais, relayed the Grand Marshal's words, and set the sealed sword before him. Prefect Teng said, "Lin Chong, you are an instructor of the Imperial Guard. How could you ignore the law and enter the council hall bearing a weapon? This is a capital crime."

"Your Honor, your wisdom is a bright mirror," Lin Chong pleaded. "Consider that I am wronged. Though I am but a rough soldier, I know something of the law. How would I dare trespass into the council hall? It began last month on the twenty-eighth day, when my wife and I went to the temple to offer incense. We encountered the Grand Marshal's young son, who made lewd advances toward my wife. I drove him off with a shout. Later he sent Lieutenant Lu Qian to lure me away for drink, while another man, Fu An, tricked my wife into going to Lu Qian's house, where the young master tried to molest her. I drove them off again and gave Lu Qian's household a beating. Though no violation was completed both times, there were witnesses. The next day I bought this sword myself. Today the Grand Marshal sent two messengers to summon me, saying he wished to compare blades. So I came with them to the council hall. The two went inside, and then the Marshal himself appeared from outside—it was all a trap against me. I beg Your Honor to see justice done."

Prefect Teng heard his statement, ordered a receipt issued, and had Lin Chong shackled and thrown into prison. His family brought food daily and spent money freely on his behalf. His father-in-law, Instructor Zhang, also bought favors high and low with silver. Now there was a clerk in the court named Sun Ding, a man of the most upright character who loved to help people in trouble—everyone called him "Buddha Sun." He knew the truth of the case and pleaded it skillfully before the prefect.

"This matter truly wrongs Lin Chong," he said. "He should be spared."

Prefect Teng objected: "But look at his crime! The Grand Marshal has ordered a sentence. He insists on charging him with bearing arms and entering the council hall to murder a superior officer. How can we spare him?"

Sun Ding replied, "This southern court of Kaifeng—is it the court of the realm or the household of Grand Marshal Gao?"

"Ridiculous!" said the prefect.

"Everyone knows that Grand Marshal Gao holds power through influence and bullying," Sun Ding pressed on. "There is nothing his house will not do. Whoever offends him in the least is sent here to Kaifeng, where they can be killed or sliced as he wishes. It might as well be his private tribunal."

"So what would you have me do with Lin Chong?"

"His statement shows he is innocent," said Sun Ding, "but there are no witnesses against the two messengers. Let him confess instead that he improperly carried a blade and mistakenly entered the council hall—then sentence him to twenty strokes and banishment to a distant military post."

Prefect Teng knew the truth of the matter by now, so he went personally to Grand Marshal Gao and explained Lin Chong's account. Gao Qiu knew his own position was weak, and mindful of the prefect's standing, he had no choice but to agree.

The prefect returned to court and ordered Lin Chong brought up. He removed the heavy cangue, administered twenty strokes to the back, summoned a tattoo artist to mark the prisoner's face, and assigned him to the garrison prison at Cangzhou—a fitting distance for his crime. A seven-and-a-half-catty iron-sheathed cangue was nailed shut around his neck, sealed with an official paper, and a writ of banishment drawn up. Two escorts were appointed to deliver him: Dong Chao and Xue Ba.

They led Lin Chong out of the courthouse, where all the neighbors and Instructor Zhang were waiting. The party went together to a tavern by the bridge, where Instructor Zhang ordered wine and food for the escorting officers. After several cups, he brought out silver and pressed it upon the two escorts. Then Lin Chong took his father-in-law's hand.

"Father," he said, "in this unlucky year I ran afoul of young Master Gao and suffered this false prosecution. Now I must speak plainly. You showed me great kindness in giving me your daughter in marriage. These three years there has been no fault between us—no children, but never a cross word either. Now I am sent to Cangzhou, and whether I live or die is unknown. My wife remains at home, and my heart cannot be at ease, for I fear young Master Gao will press his suit upon her. She is young, and should not waste her life waiting for me. This is my own decision, no one forces it. Here before these good neighbors, I write a letter of divorce, granting her freedom to remarry without dispute. Then I can go with an easy heart, and young Gao will have nothing to hold over us."

"What words are these?" Instructor Zhang protested. "You have met with misfortune through no fault of your own. Go to Cangzhou for now and wait out the storm. When Heaven takes pity and returns you to us, you and my daughter will be reunited as before. I have some means at home—I'll take her back along with the maid Jin'er, and support them for three years or five, however long it takes. She won't go out where young Gao can see her. Don't worry—leave it all to me. I'll send you letters and clothes regularly at Cangzhou. Put these wild thoughts aside and go in peace."

"I thank you for your kindness," Lin Chong said, "but I cannot put my heart at ease. We would only waste each other's lives. Father, have pity on me—grant this request, and I can die with my eyes closed."

But Instructor Zhang would not agree, and the neighbors also said it should not be done.

"If you will not allow it," Lin Chong declared, "then even if I struggle back alive, I swear I will never live with my wife again."

Instructor Zhang relented: "If that is how it must be, write your letter then. But I'll simply not marry my daughter to anyone else."

A scrivener was found, paper purchased, and the letter written as Lin Chong dictated:

"I, Lin Chong, instructor of the eighty thousand Imperial Guards in the Eastern Capital, having been convicted of a grave crime and banished to Cangzhou, where life and death are uncertain, do hereby state that my wife, née Zhang, is young. It is my wish to divorce her, allowing her to remarry as she chooses, without dispute. This is entirely my own free will, not done under compulsion. In witness whereof, this document is executed."

Lin Chong read it over, took the brush, and affixed his mark beside the date with a fingerprint.

As he was about to hand the letter to his father-in-law, his wife came wailing up the street. The maid Jin'er followed, carrying a bundle of clothes, and they found their way into the tavern. Lin Chong rose to meet them.

"Wife," he said, "I have spoken with your father. Because I have met this misfortune and am going to Cangzhou where my life is uncertain, I feared to waste your youth. I have written a letter here—please do not wait for me. If a good match presents itself, take it, and do not let me hold you back."

Hearing this, the young woman burst into tears. "Husband! I have never been touched by any stain of dishonor—how can you cast me off?"

"Wife, I mean only kindness," Lin Chong said. "I feared we would harm each other in the end."

Instructor Zhang added, "My child, be at ease. Though my son-in-law has made this decision, I could never bring myself to marry you to another! Let him go with a settled mind. Even if he never returns, I will provide for you all your life—only keep your faith to him."

The woman choked with grief, and seeing the letter, she cried out and collapsed in a dead faint, her limbs still. The sight was pitiful: beauty destroyed as jade shattered against the mountain, flowers broken before their bloom. She lay like a peony fallen from its trellis, speechless as a statue of Guanyin in meditation—the east wind of that night had blown down the plum blossom and left it lying on the ground.

Lin Chong and Instructor Zhang revived her, though she would not stop weeping for some time. Lin Chong gave the divorce letter to his father-in-law to keep, while neighbor women comforted Mrs. Lin and helped her home. Instructor Zhang instructed Lin Chong: "Go and make your way in the world, and come back to us. I will fetch your wife home tomorrow and keep her there until you return. Go with an easy mind—don't worry about anything. If you find a messenger, send letters often."

Lin Chong rose, thanked him, bowed farewell to his father-in-law and the neighbors, shouldered his pack, and followed the escorts away.

The two officers brought Lin Chong to the guardhouse for the night, then went home to prepare their gear. As Dong Chao was packing, a tavern waiter came to his door. "Officer," he said, "a gentleman in my shop requests your presence."

"Who is it?" Dong asked.

"I don't know him—he only said to fetch you."

In those days all prison escorts were addressed as "officer." Dong Chao went with the waiter to the tavern's private room and found a man seated there, wearing a patterned headcloth, black silk jacket, black boots, and clean socks. Seeing Dong, he rose quickly and bowed.

"Please sit down," said the stranger.

"I have never had the honor of your acquaintance," Dong said. "Why have you summoned me?"

"Sit first—you'll learn soon enough."

Dong sat across from him, and the waiter laid out wine cups, dishes, fruits, and delicacies until the table was full.

The man asked, "Where does Officer Xue live?"

"Just down the lane ahead," Dong said.

The stranger sent the waiter to fetch him, and in the time it takes a cup of tea to cool, Xue Ba arrived. "This gentleman has invited us for conversation," Dong explained.

Xue bowed: "May I ask your honorable name?"

"You'll know soon enough—drink first."

The three sat down and the wine went around several times. Then the man drew ten ounces of gold from his sleeve and set them on the table.

"Take five ounces each, officers. I have a small matter to trouble you with."

"We don't know you," they said. "Why give us gold?"

"You two are bound for Cangzhou, are you not?"

"We are sent by the prefecture to escort Lin Chong there," Dong said.

"Then this is what I ask. I am Lu Qian, trusted man of Grand Marshal Gao's household."

Both escorts began bowing and muttering that they were unworthy to sit at the same table with him.

Lu Qian continued: "You know that Lin Chong stands against the Grand Marshal. By his order, I bring you this gold. Do not travel far—find a quiet place ahead and finish him off there. Get a receipt of death from the local authorities and come back. If the Kaifeng court has questions, the Grand Marshal will handle it personally."

Dong Chao hesitated: "I'm afraid we can't do that. The prefecture's writ says to deliver him alive—it doesn't authorize killing him. Besides, he's not old or sick. How would we explain it? If anything goes wrong, we'd be in trouble."

But Xue Ba said, "Old Dong, listen: if Grand Marshal Gao ordered you and me dead, we'd have no choice but to obey—let alone when he sends gold with his man. Don't argue. Let's split it between us and earn his favor. There are wild pine forests ahead, desolate places enough. We'll finish him there by whatever means."

Xue pocketed the gold and said, "Rest easy, sir. Five stages at most, maybe two—you'll have your answer soon."

Lu Qian was delighted: "Officer Xue is a man of action! When it's done, be sure to peel the golden stamp from Lin Chong's face as proof. I'll bring you another ten ounces for your trouble. I await good news—don't disappoint me."

In those days, all convicts sentenced to banishment were tattooed on the face; because people hated the mark, they called it "striking the golden stamp." The three drank a while longer, Lu Qian settled the bill, and they parted in the street.

Dong Chao and Xue Ba divided the gold, sent their share home, collected their luggage and official staves, then took Lin Chong from the guardhouse and set out. They left the city that day and traveled more than thirty li before stopping. In Song times, innkeepers along the road charged no fee when escorting officers lodged prisoners, so the three stayed free at a village hostel.

The next morning they rose at dawn, cooked breakfast, and took the road to Cangzhou. It was now the sixth month, with summer heat at its worst. At first Lin Chong's lash wounds gave him little trouble, but after two or three days in the burning weather they festered, and a man newly beaten could barely drag himself along.

Xue Ba grumbled: "You're hopeless! Cangzhou is more than two thousand li away. At this pace, when will we ever get there?"

"I took my beating only days ago," Lin Chong said, "and the wounds are breaking open in this heat. Officers, bear with me a step at a time."

"Take your own pace," Dong said. "Don't mind his noise."

But Xue Ba muttered curses all along the road, complaining that they were cursed to be saddled with such a demon.

As evening fell—the sun sinking like a burning wheel, the moon about to rise, smoke curling from village kitchens, temple bells sounding for monks returning, crows flying through the treetops, cicadas droning in the wind—they came to another village inn. Inside, the two escorts set down their staves and packs. Lin Chong untied his own bundle and, without waiting to be asked, took out some small silver and asked the waiter to buy wine, meat, and rice. He prepared a meal and invited the officers to sit and eat.

Dong and Xue added more wine and drank until Lin Chong was drunk, then left him slumped against his cangue. Xue Ba boiled a pot of scalding water, carried it in, and poured it into a foot basin.

"Instructor Lin," he called, "wash your feet before you sleep."

Lin Chong struggled up but the cangue made it hard to bend. "I'll wash them for you," Xue said.

"No, no—that's not proper!" Lin Chong protested.

"What does propriety matter on the road?" Xue replied.

Lin Chong did not see the trap and stretched out his feet. Xue Ba seized them and plunged them into the boiling water. Lin Chong cried out in agony and snatched them back, but already the skin was swollen and red.

"There was no need for such trouble," he said weakly.

"You see how it is!" Xue sneered. "Convicts are supposed to serve officers—not the other way around! I kindly offered to wash your feet, and you complain about hot and cold. That's what comes of good deeds!" He muttered curses half the night, and Lin Chong dared not answer but lay down in his corner.

The two poured out the water, washed their own feet outside, and settled themselves. They slept until the fourth watch, when all the other lodgers were still asleep. Xue Ba rose, heated water for washing, cooked breakfast, and roused Lin Chong, who was dizzy and could barely stand or eat. Xue took up his stave and urged him on. Dong Chao untied a pair of new straw sandals from his belt—the straps braided from hemp—and told Lin Chong to wear them.

Lin Chong looked at his feet, covered with blisters and sores, and tried to find his old sandals, but they were gone. He had no choice but to put on the new ones. The waiter was paid, and the three left in the fifth watch, before dawn. Within two or three li, the new sandals had burst Lin Chong's blisters, leaving bloody tracks behind him. He could not walk and cried out with every step.

"Walk faster," Xue Ba cursed, "or I'll drive you on with this stave!"

"Please, officers—I would never dare delay you. But my feet hurt so I can't move."

"I'll help you along," Dong said, and took his arm.

They staggered another four or five li until Lin Chong could go no further. Ahead of them the road vanished into mist: a dark, forbidding forest rose up, its twisted vines hanging like rain, its great branches crowding like clouds—a place where sunlight never seemed to reach, haunted by wronged spirits.

This was Wild Boar Forest, the first truly dangerous spot on the road from the Eastern Capital to Cangzhou. In Song times, any man with enemies could pay the escorting officers to bring him here, and no one knew how many brave souls had met their end among these trees. Now Dong and Xue drove Lin Chong into the forest.

"We've walked through the whole fifth watch," Dong said, "and covered barely ten li. At this rate we'll never see Cangzhou."

"I can't go another step either," Xue said. "Let's rest here a while."

They went in among the trees, set down their packs at the roots of a great tree, and Lin Chong collapsed against it with a groan.

Dong and Xue stretched themselves out. "One step forward, one step back," they complained. "We're worn out—let's sleep before going on." They laid down their staves and closed their eyes, but after a moment both sat up.

"What is it?" Lin Chong asked.

"We want to sleep," they said, "but there's no lock or chain here. We can't rest easy worrying you might run."

"I am an honest man," Lin Chong said. "Since I've accepted this sentence, I will never flee—not in a lifetime."

"Words are cheap. If you want us to feel secure, we'll have to tie you up."

"Tie me then—how could I object?"

Xue Ba took a rope from his belt and bound Lin Chong hand and foot against the tree, fastening him tight along with his cangue. Then both officers jumped up, seized their staves, and turned to face him.

"It's not that we want to kill you," Dong said. "When we set out, Lu Qian came with Grand Marshal Gao's order: bring you here and finish you off, and return at once with the golden stamp from your face as proof. Even if we walked a few more days, you'd still die—so it might as well be today. It saves us time on the road back. Don't blame us brothers—it's our superiors' command, not our own choice. Mark the day: next year at this time is your anniversary. We have a deadline to meet."

Lin Chong wept like rain. "Officers, I have never wronged you in the past, nor offended you now. If you could spare me, I would remember it in life and death!"

"Enough talk!" Dong said. "We cannot save you."

Xue Ba raised his stave high above Lin Chong's head and brought it down with all his force.

A hero stood helpless before death. Ten thousand li to the Yellow Springs, and no inn along the way—where would his soul lodge this night? Whether Lin Chong lived or died must be told in the next chapter.