Chapter 2 Chapter 1 (2)

It was one of the most hostile moments between us, and his hand shook slightly. "No, you've misunderstood me. I'm just talking about a special situation at the moment. I'm talking about this matter I'm investigating. I want to find out the truth and I have to resort to coercive means. First, I heard Lies, you know - that's how things happen - first lie, then coercion, then lie again, then pressure, collapse, pressure, then the truth. That's The way you get to the truth." Pain is truth; all others are suspect.That's what I concluded from my conversation with Colonel Joel.The man's pointed fingernails, lavender handkerchief, and long feet in soft shoes reminded me of him in the capital, as he must have been, always, during the intermissions of the theatre, always Standing in the aisle, he chatted impatiently to his companions.

(But on the other hand, why do I have to stay away from him? I eat and drink with him, I show him the scenery, I help him every time he writes a work report, I do And that's not all. The empire doesn't demand that those who serve it should respect and love each other, it only demands that we do our part.) ** The following report to me is too brief in my eyes as a magistrate. "During the interrogation, it became apparent that the prisoner's confession was riddled with flaws. After these flawed confessions were exposed, the prisoner became enraged and attacked the officer conducting the investigation. A scuffle ensued in which the prisoner slammed heavily against the wall Died after rescue efforts failed."

To close the matter, I summoned the guard, and ordered him to make a statement, as the law dictates.He recounted it, and I wrote down his words: "The prisoner lost control and attacked the officer who came to investigate. I was called in to help restrain him. When I entered, the fighting was over. The prisoner was unconscious. It's bleeding." I pointed to the place where I had to sign my name on his testimony.He respectfully took the pen towards me. "Is that the officer who asked you to tell me that?" I asked him softly. "Yes, sir." "Were the prisoner's hands tied?"

"Yes, sir, I mean, no, sir." I sent him away to fill out a funeral permit. Before going to bed, however, I took a lamp and walked across the square and around the back street to the barn.At the door of the hut was a new guard, also a farm boy, sleeping wrapped in a blanket.The crickets stopped singing as I approached.But the sound of the door being pulled open did not wake the guards up.I entered the hut and held up the lamp, realizing that I had trespassed into a sacred or unholy place (which made no difference) where state secrets were kept. The boy slept on a bed of straw in the corner and was alive.He looked like he was sleeping, but judging from his tense posture, he wasn't asleep.His hands were tied across his chest.In another corner was something wrapped in a long strip of white cloth.

I woke up the guards: "Who told you to put the body there? Who sewed it up?" He heard the anger in my voice. "It was the one with the other grown man, sir. He was here when I was on duty. I heard him tell the boy, 'Sleep with your grandpa to keep him warm.' He Pretending to sew the boy into the shroud too, in the same shroud as his grandfather's, but he didn't do that afterwards." The boy was still lying there stiff, his eyes tightly shut.We carried the body out.In the courtyard, by the light held by the guards, I found the stitches at the seams of the shroud, picked them apart with the point of my knife, and rolled the cloth from the old man's head.

His gray beard was stained with blood.The crushed lips were sunken in, and the teeth were shattered.One eye was sunken in, and the other eye socket was a bloody hole. "Pull it up," I ordered.The guard tied up the opened bag.But it fell apart again. "They say he hit his head on the wall, what do you think?" He looked at me cautiously. "Go get some string to tie it on." I held the lamp over the boy's head and shone on him.He didn't move, but when I bent down and touched his cheek with my hand, he flinched and started shaking, his whole body heaving up and down. "Listen, kid," I said, "I won't hurt you." He curled up and shielded his face with his bound hands.Both hands were bruised and purple.I felt his bones.Everywhere I come into contact with this child is horrific. "Listen: you've got to tell the truth to the officer. He's going to hear you tell the truth—tell the truth. Once he's convinced you're telling the truth, he won't hurt you anymore. But you've got to take everything you know Tell him all. You must answer every question honestly. If you are in too much pain, don't be too discouraged." I found the knot and untied it. "Rub your hands together to get the blood flowing." I put his hand in mine and rubbed it.He curled up his fingers in pain.I acted a lot like a mother comforting a child who had been violently beaten by a father.Because there is an idea that has been lingering-the interrogation wears two masks, and there are two voices, one harsh and one inductive.

"Has he had anything to eat tonight?" I asked the guard. "I have no idea." "Have you eaten anything?" I asked the boy.He shook his head.I feel my heart is very heavy.It never occurred to me to be involved in such a thing.I don't know when this thing will end.I turn to the guard. "I'm leaving now. There are three things I want you to do. First, when the boy's hands are better you have to tie him up again, but not so tightly that the hands swell up; second, I want you Leave that body in the yard there and don't move it in. I'll send a team of undertakers to collect the body tomorrow morning, and you'll leave it to them. If there's any question, say it's my order; third, you Now lock up the hut and come with me. I want you to go into the kitchen and get the boy something to eat, come on."

I don't want to add any embellishments to the matter, I'm just a town magistrate, a responsible officer in the service of the Empire, spending my days on this desolate frontier waiting to retire.I collected tithes and other taxes, ran the public domain, kept the frontier forts up to lack of supplies, oversaw the only junior officer we had here, managed trade incidentally, and presided over the court sessions twice a week.When I have free time, I watch the sunrise and sunset, eat and sleep contentedly.When I die, I hope there will be three small notices in the Imperial Gazette, mentioning my merits and demerits.I have never asked for anything more than to live a peaceful life on a peaceful day.

But last year rumors of restless savages reached us from the capital.The trade routes of merchants were attacked and plundered.Theft of items from warehouses has risen sharply and is becoming more and more daring.A team of census workers went missing and were later found buried in a shallow grave.Both shootings occurred while the governor was investigating the trip, and Border Patrol was also involved in the clashes.The barbarian tribes were armed, and rumors were flying everywhere.The Empire must take precautions in case war breaks out. I myself saw nothing in these upheavals.Privately I feel that this is something that must happen once in every dynasty, it must be like this, and this is just a fragment of the story about the hysteria of the barbarians.There is not a frontier woman who has not dreamed of dark, savage hands reaching out from under the bed to grasp her ankles; Come to a feast, break the dishes, set fire to the curtains, rape his daughter.But I think this is all imagined by those who live too comfortably. If you show me an army of barbarians, I will believe it.

In the capital there is concern that the barbarians of the north and west may have united.Officers from the headquarters were sent to the frontier; fortresses were put on the alert.The merchants demanded that armed men be sent to escort them.Personnel from the Third Bureau of the Ministry of National Defense were sent to the border immediately, and national leaders, experts in detecting hidden seditions, enthusiastic people who wanted to find out the truth, and interrogation experts all rushed over.Looks like my days of ease are coming to an end, though then I can sleep with a peaceful mind, knowing that despite all the bumps here and there, the world is running smoothly on its own terms .If I had only handed over these two so-called prisoners to Colonel Joel, I would have said: "Look, Colonel, you're the expert, and you'll see what to do with them!"—if I had Happened to be out hunting for a few days--as I should have been, maybe wandering upriver for a few days, and coming back with no time to read his report, or to glance at it inadvertently, and take my Sealed on his report, no questions asked about his "investigation," like a "banshee" under a rock—as I would have done if I had been wiser, and now I am Probably already out there hunting hare and fox again, flirting with peace of mind, just waiting for this investigation to be over and all the frontier turmoil to subside.But, God, I couldn't stay out of it: for a moment I locked my ears on the shouting from the barn shed, because something was going on there, and then, that night, I put the light on , for the sake of his own conscience, went that way.

** The horizon was covered with snow from one side to the other.This is scattered from the ubiquitous light source in the sky, as if the sun turned into mist and shrouded the world.In my dream I pass the gate of the barracks, past the bare flagpole.The square stretched out before me, merging into the shimmering sky at the end.Walls, trees, and houses gradually faded away, lost their original shape, and disappeared at the edge of the world. When I walked quietly through the square, several black figures jumped out from the white background. The children were playing the game of building a castle with snow, and they planted a red flag on the top of the castle.They wore mittens and boots and were wrapped up warm enough to keep out the cold.They brought Baixue one by one to build a wall for their castle, and perfected the construction of the castle.White mist was blowing from their mouths and noses.The battlements surrounding the castle were half built.I tried hard to hear their erratic, muffled cries, but nothing came out. Knowing how unsightly my shadowy bulk was, I was surprised that they scattered in one direction as I approached.Only one, older than the others, not even a child, sat in the snow with a hood behind her dress, with her back to me, making the castle gate, her legs Separated, busy digging holes, slapping snow blocks, and making models.I imagined her face surrounded by the petals of a pointed hat, but could not.