Chapter 64: Another Flaying

He glanced at the crowd gathered around—people filled the street to bursting, and even the rooftops were crowded with onlookers.

Ling Chi’s voice thundered with authority, ensuring that everyone in Willow Town heard him clearly:
“I am Ling Chi, the Town Constable of the Bureau of Tranquility here in Willow Town. Not long ago, a most heinous crime took place in our midst. The Xue brothers, in order to arrange a ghost marriage for their daughter, abducted the grandson of Zhang Shunzhi—the same Zhang Shunzhi known for selling sticky rice chicken.”

“The depraved Xue brothers, in their madness, turned a six-year-old child into a living wax figure, using his body as a perpetual lamp for their daughter’s grave, and even beat the boy’s father to death.”

Ling Chi did not speak of that unfortunate woman. Whether she lived or died in the future, it was not his place to mention her suffering.

“And that is not all. The Xue brothers have bullied and terrorized the locals, driven several citizens to their deaths, and gathered a band of ruffians to wreak havoc in our town. There are multiple murders on their hands—no fewer than a dozen lives lost.”

The details had been written on the paper that Pei Shinan handed him moments ago. Most of the victims could be named; a few, no doubt, had already passed on.

“Such sins are beyond redemption. As Town Constable, I have decided: the Xue brothers are to be sentenced to the ultimate penalty and executed on the spot.”

“Children under twelve are forbidden from witnessing the sentence. Those under eighteen may attend only with a parent’s supervision. I, Ling Chi, will carry out the execution myself.”

“Let this serve as a warning to all who would commit evil: do not say you were not forewarned.” Ling Chi’s voice became thunder itself, resounding high above the town with the weight of righteous law.

He drew his dagger of justice and turned with a sudden, fierce motion to face the Xue brothers. Like a tiger wheeling on its prey, He He wet himself in terror, muffled whimpers escaping his gagged mouth.

The Xue brothers had not expected this. Even the powerful figures behind them could not save them now. Tongueless and desperate, they mumbled incoherent pleas that no one could understand.

Ling Chi resolved to flay the younger Xue first, forcing the elder to watch his brother die, bit by bit. To prevent the elder from expiring too soon, Ling Chi even crushed half a healing pill and forced it down his throat.

He stepped before the younger Xue, ignoring the pitiful expression on his face. Ling Chi imagined that when these brothers once abused a man’s wife before his eyes, that man must have begged for mercy just as desperately.

Ling Chi sliced off the first thin sliver of flesh...

The first cut, a piece from the left chest, was made in reverence to Heaven.

The second, a piece from the right chest, was made in reverence to Earth.

Compared to when he had previously flayed the bandit chieftain of Lianshan, his skill had much improved.

Each slice, as thin as a cicada’s wing, was handed to his subordinates, who showed it to the crowd. The boldest among them could even take a piece home as a grim memento.

The younger Xue was a heavyset man, and any executioner would know that flaying fat men is the most difficult—yellow fat made for hard work.

Ling Chi kept his patience. By the five-hundredth cut, the blood vessels beneath Xue’s skin were clearly visible. The first lesson for any executioner was to avoid cutting into veins and arteries—and clearly, Ling Chi had mastered his craft.

Midway through, the younger Xue’s body began to fail, but Ling Chi sent tiny arcs of lightning into his chest to keep his heart beating. He could see, with clinical fascination, the blood surge through the man’s veins with every throb.

The elder Xue’s eyes bulged so wide they seemed about to split. At first, he dared not look and kept his eyes squeezed shut. Ling Chi, ever considerate, sliced open the man’s eyelids so he could not look away. Now he watched, unblinking, utterly transfixed.

In the end, the younger Xue endured nine hundred and seventy-five cuts before he died. Ling Chi had done his utmost, but still could not break the thousand-cut mark. He felt a twinge of regret—but no matter. This was only his trial run; after all, the elder Xue remained.

Ling Chi turned and smiled at the elder brother.

Not only the elder Xue, but even the crowd was startled—who knew how many would be haunted by nightmares after they returned home?

The faint of heart had already vomited, their legs and arms trembling as they left.

Those who stayed were made of sterner stuff, and patient as well—for Ling Chi had worked on the younger Xue for nearly two full hours.

At the end, Ling Chi received a hundred strands of thunderous spiritual energy in return.

He brought his blade down beside the elder Xue, twisting his waist and rolling his shoulders to loosen up.

The entire Zhang Shunzhi family, along with the bodies of the man and his grandson, sat below to witness the execution—it was, after all, for them.

He raised his dagger once more.

The proper rituals must be observed for the elder Xue.

The first cut, a sliver from the left chest, in reverence to Heaven.

The second, a sliver from the right chest, in reverence to Earth.

This time, Ling Chi was noticeably quicker. Each slice was handed to his subordinates and displayed to the onlookers, some of whom finally could not stomach it and vomited again.

Soon, a competition broke out among the crowd—testing who could endure the sight the longest, whose nerves were the strongest.

Ling Chi, struck by inspiration, thought: If these people are so bold, they’re well-suited for corpse-handling and other unsavory tasks—the Bureau of Tranquility always needed such talent. He ordered his men to note these individuals for later recruitment.

The elder Xue trembled uncontrollably, but Ling Chi’s hand was steady. After more than three hundred cuts, not a single vein had been severed—a testament to Ling Chi’s expertise.

The woman, standing close by, stared wide-eyed at the elder Xue’s face. His agony brought her joy; the more he suffered, the happier she became.

Ling Chi paid her no mind, letting her watch in her madness, laughing and weeping all at once.

He noticed her eager expression and put away his dagger—it was too heavy for her.

He instructed his men to bring a sharp little knife, handed it to her, and then, step by step, taught her how to make the incisions, how to avoid the veins, how to steady her breathing so her hand would not tremble.

Ling Chi taught with patience, and the woman learned with extraordinary focus.

After a dozen cuts, her hand no longer shook, and each slice grew thinner and neater.

Ling Chi continued to share his expertise, and she seemed, as if by instinct, to improve with every cut.

He was genuinely amazed—she had a real aptitude for this dark art, and Ling Chi could sense a strange happiness welling up in her.

At first, she had laughed and cried together. Now, only a gentle, contented smile remained.

She turned to look at Ling Chi, who nodded his encouragement.

At the outset, Ling Chi had thought that after witnessing this spectacle, the woman would be driven to immediate suicide. He would have accepted that outcome. But now, he hoped she would live on. Fate had dealt her such a cruel hand; Ling Chi now wished for her to survive, to live well, and show her tormentors that she could endure.

Ling Chi stood by with his dagger, patiently observing, offering the occasional word of guidance, to which the woman responded with a nod.

The crowd gradually fell silent, realizing the significance of what they were witnessing—the apprentice at work.

She managed over six hundred cuts, and in the end, it was she who castrated the elder Xue. Ling Chi had fed him four pills in total, allowing him to last until the bitter end.

When the elder Xue finally expired, Ling Chi received more than two hundred strands of thunderous spiritual energy from his thunder pearl.

The woman broke down in tears, clinging to her mother-in-law.

Soon after, she cast a hopeful glance toward He He, who was so frightened he lost control of his bowels again.

Ling Chi shook his head at her, and she lowered her gaze in disappointment, lost in thought.

“Don’t worry,” Ling Chi said to her gently, deciding the fate of those who remained. “There are plenty of people we captured from the Xue household. You can go and identify them one by one—anyone who ever tormented you, I’ll leave for you to deal with personally.”

Light returned to the woman’s eyes, and she nodded to Ling Chi again and again.

“This place is called the Bureau of Tranquility,” Ling Chi continued. “If you’re willing, you can stay. I’ll teach you myself how to carry out justice. In the future, all such people will be handed over to you.”