The head hadn't been severed.
The old master had made a mistake!
Beheading was an art that called for a clean execution: the blade rises, the head falls. Such a mis-hit was a mistake only a novice apprentice would make.
A new apprentice might blunder out of fear or insufficient strength.
This was an embarrassing failure, one that would be mocked by peers and turned into a jest by the public.
Weren't the beheading kings of Taiyuan prefecture famous? Was this the extent of their skill? Truly disappointing.
There were murmurs of dissent starting to emerge.
But before the public's screams had subsided, the deafening sound of firecrackers erupted, drowning out the clamor and drawing everyone's attention.
Who dared to set off firecrackers during an execution?
It was customary for the victims of heinous criminals to celebrate with firecrackers once the execution was complete.
But the condemned hadn't even been killed yet.
The crowd looked on to see that indeed, it was the victims who had set off the firecrackers.
The servants of the Fang Family ignited a row of firecrackers in front of the execution platform, sending up a cloud of gunpowder smoke.
In addition, a servant raised a white banner.
"Offering sacrifice to Fang Shouyi," he called out in a long, loud chant.
As he cried out, the women of the Fang Family knelt down and wept bitterly, while Fang Chengyu lifted a jar of wine and poured it lavishly onto the ground in front of him.
"Grandfather, our grievous wrong has been avenged," he shouted.
With his words still hanging in the air, the executioner on the platform raised his sword again. This time, Song Yunping's head remained firm, as the blade struck his other shoulder.
His neck was gashed on both sides, but his head did not drop; blood surged, the man screamed and writhed.
The crowd had no appetite for mockery now, screaming in terror, their souls seemed to scatter.
Officials too stood in shock and horror.
One mistake could be accidental, but a second was impossible; two strikes and the head still attached, the man not yet dead—it was indeed the work of true skill.
Only a master could accomplish that.
It was clear that the executioner had been bribed by the Fang Family.
In past executions, executioners would be paid off by the crime's perpetrators, wishing for a swift death with one stroke.
However, now as the victims, the Fang Family had bribed the executioner to ensure the criminal suffered more.
It was too terrible.
"To think that murdering someone in jail is frightening, turns out a public execution is even more terrifying," an official couldn't help but blurt out.
The Fang Family was truly...
"That should be enough, right? This is too cruel," said another official.
"Crueler than dismemberment?" Prefect Ma spoke up, his expression impassive as he looked at the official and then down at the crowd below. "Is it crueler than twenty years of being schemed against, two male members of the family killed, and a grandson tortured for a decade? Indeed, one does not feel the blade's pain when it's not on one's own flesh."
At his words, the official blushed and fell silent.
All eyes turned to those below the platform.
An elderly woman with white hair, a beautiful woman of middle age, a young girl in the prime of youth, and a frail and delicate-looking young man—all dressed in mourning garments, their expressions filled with grief, knelt amidst the white banners, crying ceaselessly.
It looked truly tragic, and thinking about it was equally so.
Down below, another burst of firecrackers sounded, and another white banner was raised.
"Offering sacrifice to Fang Nianjun," a servant called out loudly.
Fang Chengyu once again picked up a jar of wine and poured it onto the ground.
"Father, our grievous wrong has been avenged; may you rest in peace," he cried out.
The crowd finally understood the situation, feeling both horrified and unable to resist watching the spectacle on the platform.
Song Yunping hadn't expired; though the pain was so intense he wished for a swift death, it paradoxically kept him agonizingly alert.
His bravado had long since vanished, replaced entirely by regret; suddenly, he found himself envying County Magistrate Li, whose quick beheading now seemed like a blessing.
Fortuitously, the executioner raised his sword once more, and this time, the blade fell and the head dropped, concluding the execution.
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, the onlookers wiping the sweat from their bodies and panting heavily.
"Today has indeed been worthwhile," remarked the storytelling masters, wiping their sweat, "The Fang Family's actions, as expected, are formidable."
This scene was significant enough to be recorded in the county archives, and it became a classic strange tale of Yangcheng, giving them something to talk about for years.
Miss Jun, standing outside the crowd, heard the screams and commotion but didn't see the scene because there were just too many people in front of her.
"Miss, should we go over and take a look?" Liu'er asked on tiptoes.
"There's no need," Miss Jun said, turning away. "It's enough to see that justice is clear and evil is met with retribution."
Liu'er made a noise of acknowledgment and followed as they walked away. Even more people hustled into the already crowded street as they heard the news, filling the long street not only with onlookers but also with vendors weaving through the chaos.
"Sugar figurines, sugar figurines, watch the beheading, enjoy some sugar figurines."
A vendor popped out from the crowd, a wreath over his shoulder from which dangled sugar figures that were nearly all sold out, with just a few left. Grinning, he was ready to move to a less crowded corner to count his money when his eyes landed on a girl standing there.
Girls are timid; they definitely wouldn't dare get too close to a beheading.
This girl, dressed in coarse clothing but oddly wrapping her face with a veil, was concealing her features.
What's she up to? Doesn't she know she's not some delicate lady from a noble family to be afraid of being seen?
He clicked his tongue twice to himself and took another look at the girl, his eyes lighting up.
"Hey, isn't that Miss Fang?" he said.
At the mention of "Miss Fang," Fang Jinxiu instinctively stepped back, wariness and avoidance in her wide, exposed eyes.
The vendor, carrying sugar figures, had already leaped over.
"Why are you here? Why didn't you go up front?" he asked in rapid succession.
It sounded like they were quite familiar.
"You?" Fang Jinxiu looked at the vendor in front of her, unable to recognize him at first.
"Me, yes, me, from Jin Yun Hall; we've met before. I'm Seventh Chen," said the vendor, his eyes shining as he pointed at himself. "Thanks to you, I made a fortune that day."
Jin Yun Hall.
Fang Jinxiu remembered the events of March third at Jin Yun Hall, which were so perilous and exhilarating.
Back then, she had regarded Jun Zhenzhen as an enemy, while she herself had been seen as the hero who would save the Fang Family from disaster.
But now, in just three months, everything had changed.
The girl she'd considered an enemy was in fact the hero of the Fang Family, and she, the so-called hero, was actually...
Tears streamed down Fang Jinxiu's face uncontrollably.
Seventh Chen was startled at first, but then thought it was quite normal.
"Don't be sad; look, the enemies of your family have been punished, and you have avenged yourselves," he said hurriedly.
That should have been enough, but the question that had been circling in his mind for too long couldn't be held back, and he blurted it out.
"But why didn't you go up front?"
Fang Jinxiu wiped her tears with her sleeve and glared at Seventh Chen.
"Because I have no right to go up front," she said. "I don't even have the right to wear mourning clothes and weep for my kin. Now you know."
Seventh Chen was taken aback by this blunt statement.
They weren't really that familiar, and the conversation should have ended there.
"How, how come..." But he stammered on anyway.
Fang Jinxiu felt relieved after shouting out her statement.
"How come I have no right? Do you know that I'm Miss Fang, do you know which Miss Fang I am?" she said, looking at Seventh Chen as she pulled down her veil. "I am Third Miss Fang."
Third Miss Fang.
Seventh Chen was taken aback but then understood.
The grudges of the Fang Family were well known in Yangcheng, involving County Magistrate Li, Song Yunping, and a concubine intent on usurping the family wealth. This concubine had borne a daughter, who was the Third Miss Fang. It was said that the concubine did all this in order to let her daughter take over the Fang Family's estate.
Of course, the feudal authority's proclamation had also mentioned this, saying instead that Song Yunping had sent the Death Soldier Concubine Su to enter the Fang Family as a concubine, taking the opportunity to poison the young Master of the Fang, Fang Chengyu. When she attempted to repeat her crime and poison his heir, she was exposed and caught, leading to her committing suicide in fear of her crimes.
While they didn't mention the part about plotting for the estate, they affirmed her vile actions.
As such, the status and identity of her daughter, Third Miss Fang, had become quite awkward.
Seventh Chen looked at Fang Jinxiu, his expression also awkward.
What should he say? What could possibly be appropriate in such a circumstance?
"Well, would you like to buy a sugar figurine?" he asked, holding the bamboo pole in his hand.