Chapter 66: Sixty-Seven: On the Matter of Whipping the Little Junior Sister

Sixty-Seven: On the Matter of Whipping the Little Junior Sister

“I… I didn’t steal it, it’s a misunderstanding, a misunderstanding…”

Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, Liu Zilin felt as if he’d swallowed a cold lump, his heart sinking; he hastily denied it, glancing left and right, desperately seeking help.

Unfortunately, the Liu family’s young master standing at the back, his face dark, was also powerless.

“A misunderstanding? You used my night pearl to buy a Hu Ji from the Yuanming Tower—written in black and white, the market contract is right here, the size and quality of the night pearl are flawless, Master Zhu, the pawnshop owner, and the market magistrates are all here to testify that the pearl is genuine—do you dare tell me it’s a misunderstanding?”

The young county magistrate murmured in puzzlement, paused, then suddenly looked up as if struck by revelation.

“So you mean to say that a month ago, I stole your night pearl, took it to a pawnshop, found I couldn’t sell it, then out of kindness quietly returned it to you—while you noticed nothing at all—and only recently used it to buy the Hu Ji? Is that your meaning?”

“… ”

Liu Zilin wanted to say “yes,” but…

“Hahaha…”

Laughter broke out across the solemn courtroom square, then was hastily stifled.

Even the Xie woman, her eyes reddened and lost in thought, couldn’t help but smile faintly, then pressed her lips flat again, gazing at her senior brother—calm, composed, and delivering brilliant retorts.

Clearly, no one truly believed this absurd claim.

Liu Zilin was left speechless.

Ouyang Rong sighed again and asked:

“Then what do you mean by ‘misunderstanding’? Did my night pearl grow legs and walk into your pocket?”

“I… I…”

Sweating coldly down his back, Liu Zilin was still mentally blank—this sudden twist with the night pearl had completely stunned him.

This wasn’t really his fault.

His original plan had been simple and effective:

Secretly threaten Yingniang and Luo Er to cooperate—the former would trick Xie Ling into handing over the funds, which Luo Er would use to buy Yingniang from the Yuanming Tower.

For this stage, Xie Ling would personally inspect the market contract, so no forgery was possible.

In the second stage, Luo Er would take Yingniang to the market office to cancel her indenture contract, choosing a day when Xie Ling was busy, so they could go alone.

There was ample room for manipulation here: instead of merely canceling the indenture, they’d swap the contract, transfer Yingniang to Liu Zilin, and let the unsuspecting Xie Ling come to collect her.

This would be the moment Xie Ling was least vigilant—otherwise, if she didn’t trust Yingniang, she wouldn’t have handed over the night pearl to redeem her in the first place.

But Liu Zilin never imagined the problem would arise from this damned night pearl—the one contract item that couldn’t be replaced.

Because Xie Ling wasn’t foolish; she was merely too trusting of the oppressed. Still, she would certainly examine the first-stage contract and process by which Luo Er redeemed Yingniang.

Who could have foreseen that a Xie family heiress had no spare wealth—only this one night pearl?

And worse—it was the very one gifted by her senior brother… No, why would you give away something so precious someone gave you?

Liu Zilin felt like spitting blood.

Yet this unfortunate Liu family third son could never guess that during that time, Xie Ling and her senior brother had just finished quarreling.

Over the grain price issue, they were in a semi-cold war; she mistakenly believed her senior brother didn’t care for the people, so she defied him in anger by going to the Yuanming Tower for Yingniang—and without hesitation, she pulled out the night pearl to redeem her…

Behind the magistrate’s desk, Ouyang Rong no longer looked at the helpless Liu Zilin; he turned directly to the astonished, popcorn-eating Deputy Magistrate Diao:

“Deputy Magistrate Diao, if someone steals another’s property to buy a slave, is the market contract valid?”

“Your Honor, naturally not—the slave must be returned to the original owner,” Deputy Magistrate Diao pondered. “This Hu Ji, Yingniang, should still belong to the Yuanming Tower.”

Ouyang Rong nodded, then asked the elderly market magistrate: “On the market contract, what was the agreed value for the night pearl exchanged for the Hu Ji?”

The latter replied respectfully: “Twenty-one guan.”

Ouyang Rong nodded, carefully calculating:

“Far exceeding ten guan, plus theft of official property—this merits facial tattooing with the character ‘thief,’ exile three thousand li. Lingnan is too close; send him north of Liaodong.”

Liu Zilin’s heart pounded; he dropped to his knees, drenched in sweat: “Your Honor, this is unjust! I didn’t steal—I have no shortage of wealth!”

Frantically, he pulled a small pouch of gold, silver, and valuables from his sleeve and spilled them onto the blue stone tiles.

Ouyang Rong glanced around and sighed to the crowd:

“So rich and still steals from me? Clearly has a stealing habit. These treasures on the ground—how many were stolen?”

The crowd erupted in laughter.

“!!!” Liu Zilin.

Ouyang Rong lowered his eyelids, glanced at him, then pointed at several people in the court:

“All of us here saw it: you yourself brought forward witnesses and evidence proving you sent Luo Er with the night pearl to redeem the girl. Since you claim you didn’t steal the night pearl, then who exactly gave it to Luo Er?”

He didn’t raise his eyes, speaking slowly and calmly:

“May I then conclude that the Xie girl’s account is true—that she gave the night pearl, she redeemed the girl, and you and Luo Er have been openly defying the court and falsely accusing an innocent person?”

Liu Zilin’s bloodshot eyes darted left and right, his face uncertain.

The young magistrate immediately raised his gavel, striking it down without giving him time to think—or a third option:

“Quickly—did you steal official property, or falsely accuse an innocent?”

As the gavel was about to fall, Liu Zilin gritted his teeth: “Stole… stole official property!”

Stealing official property meant at most facial tattooing and exile or imprisonment—there was still a chance to bribe for leniency, especially imprisonment… you could even pay to commute the sentence.

But deceiving the authorities and falsely accusing an innocent person meant execution by counter-punishment!

He had to choose the lesser evil.

Ouyang Rong nodded, swiftly pronouncing judgment: “Very well. Then you admit to stealing official property.”

Liu Zilin froze—he suddenly felt he’d confessed too fast, without even trying to argue: maybe the pearl was found? A ridiculous excuse, but perhaps it could have fooled them… Damn, why did it feel like he’d been tricked?

But now he couldn’t backtrack—he scrambled to explain:

“N-no, it wasn’t me who stole it—it was him! He stole it and forced it on me!”

In desperation, Liu Zilin pointed.

A certain pudgy, hunched youth froze in place.

“I didn’t! I didn’t!”

Luo Er flailed his hands, shaking his head, but seeing Liu Zilin’s murderous glare behind him, he shuddered and fell silent.

Under the young magistrate’s amused gaze, Liu Zilin dragged Luo Er to his side and loudly “exposed” him.

The latter gaped, speechless, as if paralyzed by some unseen terror, his fat face flushed crimson.

But in the end, under Liu Zilin’s silent pressure, he bowed his head and confessed—Luo Er clung to the last hope that the Liu family might pay to commute his sentence, or bribe officials during exile…

Witnessing this grotesque spectacle.

Deputy Magistrate Diao, Constable Yan, and other government office officials, along with Wang Cao, Ma the merchant, Wu Bo, and other grain merchants and gentry, all wore complex expressions—some smirking, others sneering.

The crowd watching wasn’t stupid; by now, they clearly understood the general truth of the case.

The young magistrate gave a light sigh, then turned to the owner of the Yuanming Tower:

“Master Zhu, since the Hu Ji belongs to your tower, and was taken away privately to spend the night—how you choose to punish her is entirely up to you.”

Master Zhu glanced at the silent woman and grinned amiably: “I’m just a businessman—double the overnight fee is fine. A minor matter.”

The young magistrate nodded, then shook his head.

Then he drew a slip, stood, and declared:

“Court ruling concluded… Criminal Luo Er stole the precious pearl, which was official property—tattooed with the character ‘thief,’ exiled three thousand li to the lands north of Liaodong, sentenced to three years of hard labor, and forbidden to return to his home region upon completion.”

“Accessory Liu Zilin concealed the crime, misused stolen funds, and brazenly shouted in court—two offenses, combined punishment: seventy strokes with the cane, two years of imprisonment.”

“Civilian woman Xie—secretly harbored the Hu Ji overnight, and brandished a blade in court, defying the law—ordered to return the Hu Ji, fined ten guan, and further punished with seventy lashes.”

“All cases concluded—this is the verdict!”

Bang—!

Ouyang Rong slammed the table, finalizing the judgment.

The entire hall fell silent.

The grain merchants and gentry looked slightly surprised.

The true nature of this case was obvious to anyone with eyes—Luo Er and Liu Zilin, who nearly turned the tables, deserved their punishment.

But the young magistrate’s harsh treatment of the little junior sister was unexpected—yet upon reflection, it was fair.

Many sighed, their gaze toward the magistrate’s desk beneath the afternoon sun filled with quiet respect.

Someone started clapping—then the crowd on Lu Ming Street joined in, a wave of synchronized applause.

The reactions of the three punished men differed.

Luo Er screamed and cried, clinging to Liu Zilin’s leg, begging for mercy and redemption.

Liu Zilin kicked the pudgy youth away with disgust, refusing to acknowledge him.

The third son of the Liu family’s thighs began trembling—not from the imprisonment he could pay to reduce, but from what came next… seventy strokes. The punishment seemed unavoidable.

The cane strike targeted buttocks, back, and legs; the whip strike was lighter—bamboo rods or thorn branches lashed across the back.

Seventy strokes! Liu Zilin’s backside clenched involuntarily; he wiped sweat from his brow and glanced toward his elder brother in the crowd—but the latter had already turned away, face grim.

Constable Yan waved his hand, ordering his men to drag the broken, sobbing pudgy youth away.

Exile three thousand li wasn’t a joke—it was only slightly better than death. “Three thousand li” didn’t mean literal distance, but extreme remoteness; unless extraordinarily lucky, most died on the journey… few ever returned.

After the magistrate’s verdict, the cane and whip punishments had to be carried out immediately by Constable Yan and the government office runners.

Whipping Liu Zilin was easy—but Yan Liu and the others hesitated facing Xie Ling.

“Miss Xie, forgive us…”

Xie Ling silently shook her head, signaling it was fine.

Yet the executing officers still glanced at Ouyang Rong—he kept his eyes lowered, not looking at them, nor at Xie Ling.

“Hurry up and carry it out!”

Seeing the blue-robed head constable still hesitating, the young county magistrate, standing with his hands behind his back, continued to urge with a stern face:

“If you’re physically unable or short-handed, then I’ll administer the lashes myself.”

Unexpectedly, Yan Liulang and the other constables immediately nodded in agreement, bowing respectfully to defer to their superior.

“...” Ouyang Rong.

“Fine, I’ll do it myself.”

The next moment, the young county magistrate let out a cold snort, descended the steps, took up a whip of thorny branches, and walked to the side of his junior sister, who stood with head bowed and hands clasped.

“Brother, please... don’t hold back.”

“Good. Turn around.” He stared at the floor tiles.

The Xie family’s noble daughter obediently turned, facing the crowd, her back to her brother.

Ouyang Rong’s hand trembled slightly, yet he still brought the whip down hard...

Xie Lingjiang endured the blows, head lowered; even as red welts marred her snow-white back beneath the silk robe, she clenched her lips, her flowing hair shielding her face, silent throughout.

Her brother was truly striking.

Yet she felt a flicker of joy.

Compared to the eerie silence of this scene—where only the crack of the whip broke the air—the other side, where Liu Zilin received the wooden paddle, was a wailing mess of tears and screams... a stark contrast.

Ouyang Rong sensed something was off.

Why, with every lash, did a wooden fish’s chime sound in his ear?

Was it merit from the spectators, or from Liu Zilin’s punishment, or... Ouyang Rong couldn’t help but glance at the little sister before him.

It couldn’t be...

Moreover, besides the wooden fish chime, Ouyang Rong realized that delivering seventy lashes with a thin thorn whip was a skilled task—especially since he had to carefully avoid certain areas on her back, though a few lashes still landed... her earlobes flushed crimson, her slender shoulders trembling.

Seventy lashes—none fewer—finally ended, and the wooden fish chime vanished from his ear at just the right moment...

The man fell silent, dropped the whip, wiped sweat from his brow, and asked sharply:

“Will you ever dare draw your blade without thinking again?”

“N-no... never again,” she mumbled, face buried. “I won’t ever dare again.”

Thank you to my good brother “One Glint of Firefly” for the boost! Hug and sword clash!!