Eighty-one: The Exchange of Wise Hearts

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“Lord Lu, please, don’t take my soul!”

Zhu Erdan collapsed to the ground in terror as he spoke.

The terrifying, fiendish face of Judge Lu leaned closer to Zhu Erdan.

“Lord Lu, are you really going to take my soul? I don’t want to die! I have elderly parents to support, and a wife to care for. If I die, the Zhu family will have no descendants. Please, spare me!”

Zhu Erdan, his face twisted in misery, knelt on the ground, clutching a wine cup and begging for mercy.

“Don’t worry. I haven’t come to take your soul,” Judge Lu said, looking at him.

“Then why are you here?” Zhu Erdan whimpered helplessly.

“Didn’t you just invite me for a drink?”

Hearing Judge Lu’s words, Zhu Erdan nodded vigorously.

“If I didn’t show up to accept your invitation, wouldn’t that be terribly rude?” Judge Lu gestured with his hand, miming holding a wine cup.

“Lord Lu, I understand. Allow me to offer you a drink,” Zhu Erdan finally stood, poured wine into the cup, and handed it to Lord Lu.

“What is this wine? It smells wonderful,” Judge Lu said, not taking the cup but simply inhaling its aroma.

“It’s Shaoxing wine from two years ago,” Zhu Erdan replied without hesitation.

“Wine from two years ago?” Judge Lu took the cup, eyes wide with fierce intensity.

“It’s well-aged,” Zhu Erdan quickly added.

“Oh, aged Shaoxing wine! Excellent. Let me try it.” Judge Lu grinned and drank.

“Wonderful! Excellent wine...” Judge Lu downed the fiery mouthful, nodding his approval.

Seeing that he had managed to distract Judge Lu, Zhu Erdan breathed a sigh of relief and hurried to refill his cup.

“Don’t just stand there—sit and drink with me,” Judge Lu said, settling himself and sipping more wine.

Zhu Erdan took a gulp and immediately grimaced, finding the taste unbearably bitter, his expression more wretched than before.

“I say, Pig Ears—no, no, Zhu Erdan—barely a few sips and you’re already like this. Let me ask you something serious.”

“In this life, do you have any ambitions? Any aspirations?” Judge Lu asked after his third cup.

“Burdens? I don’t have any burdens,” Zhu Erdan said, patting his body.

“Aspirations, not burdens! I mean, have you ever thought of accomplishing something great?” Judge Lu retorted, eyes blazing.

“Something great? Yes, I want to pass the imperial exams and earn honors. That’s my father’s wish. Lately, he’s always scolding me, mentioning this Li Xintian fellow who, even at a young age, has already become a successful scholar, and recently composed a poem too.”

“Once I achieve honors, I’ll surpass Li Xintian! And I’ll earn lots and lots of silver, so my wife won’t have to sell that foul-smelling tofu anymore.” As Zhu Erdan spoke, his joy became irrepressible, a broad grin spreading across his face.

“You have spirit, wanting to surpass Brother Li. You’ll never manage that in your lifetime,” Judge Lu thought to himself, though he nodded approvingly on the surface.

“But I’m so dull-witted, I doubt I could accomplish such a great thing,” Zhu Erdan said, his smile fading, voice bitter.

“That’s all right. You may be a bit of a fool, but you’re filial and care for your wife. Clearly, you’re not without a conscience.”

“How about letting me, Lord Lu, help you out, give you a little assistance?”

“Really?” Zhu Erdan couldn’t believe Judge Lu wanted to help him, but seeing him nod solemnly, his hope grew.

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“Of course! I, Lord Lu, always keep my word,” Judge Lu declared.

“Lord Lu, your kindness and virtue, Zhu Erdan will never forget! Please accept my deepest gratitude—one, two, three bows!” Zhu Erdan knelt and kowtowed.

Judge Lu chuckled from his seat.

“Well then, I’m off. Until we meet again,” Judge Lu transformed into a statue and vanished from Zhu Erdan’s home.

“Take care, Lord Lu,” Zhu Erdan said with a respectful gesture.

The Underworld.

“Lord Situ, the best candidate for our wager is Zhu Erdan,” Judge Lu said upon his return, immediately seeking out Lord Situ.

“Why Zhu Erdan? You know what sort of person he is,” Lord Situ replied, surprised by Judge Lu’s choice.

“Because Zhu Erdan is foolish enough, with plenty of flaws, but he also respects the spirits and has a measure of filial piety. He’s a mixture of virtues and failings, good and bad in equal parts.”

“I agree with you. Very well, it’s decided—we’ll choose Zhu Erdan, and the wager lasts three months,” Lord Situ nodded.

“But we must quickly find him a clever heart,” Judge Lu said after securing Lord Situ’s agreement.

“Finding a clever heart? That’s a troublesome task,” Lord Situ said, troubled.

“Don’t worry, leave it to me,” Judge Lu replied, patting Lord Situ’s chest with a laugh.

“Very well, I leave it in your hands. I have other matters to attend to. In three months, I’ll return and see,” Lord Situ agreed, then departed.

Judge Lu produced the Book of Life and Death and began to search.

“This one will do—Scholar Hong. A clever man, blameless in life except for a loose tongue. Idle gossip diminishes one’s fortune. His allotted span is nearly over.”

Having selected Scholar Hong, Judge Lu watched as the man, oblivious, picked up a book to read. He failed to notice a bamboo root on the floor, slipped, and struck the back of his head hard against the corner of his desk, dying instantly, eyes wide and unseeing.

Judge Lu arrived at that moment, looking down at Scholar Hong’s freshly deceased body.

“I’ll be borrowing your clever heart,” Judge Lu said, waving his hand to open Scholar Hong’s robe, summoning nether energy to cut open the chest, then wrapped the still-warm heart in ghostly mist and took it in hand.

With Scholar Hong’s heart, Judge Lu made his way to Zhu Erdan’s home, only to find Ke Shaorong chatting away with Zhu Erdan well into the evening before finally leaving.

“That woman talks far too much. If she doesn’t leave soon, this heart will be wasted,” Judge Lu muttered, entering Zhu Erdan’s study and sealing the door with a sweep of nether energy.

“Lord Lu, what brings you here?” Zhu Erdan, lively as ever, bounced over.

“I have something on my mind,” Judge Lu replied.

“What is it?” Zhu Erdan asked, his expression sobering.

Judge Lu held up Scholar Hong’s heart.

“What’s that?” Zhu Erdan asked, staring at the object in Judge Lu’s hand.

“A human heart. Still quite fresh,” Judge Lu replied.

“A heart?” Zhu Erdan’s eyes rolled back, and he fainted.

Judge Lu, manipulating nether energy, carried Zhu Erdan to the rest couch, opened his robe, cut open his chest, and replaced his heart with that of Scholar Hong.

“Lord Lu, am I dreaming?” Zhu Erdan briefly awoke to ask.

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“Just pretend you’re dreaming,” Judge Lu said, waving his hand to send Zhu Erdan back into unconsciousness.

“From now on, you’ll be a clear-sighted and quick-witted man. You may not surpass Brother Li, but you’ll certainly be scholar material now. Rest well—when you wake, you’ll find your mind transformed and your senses renewed,” Judge Lu said, completing his work before leaving the study.

Meanwhile, as Judge Lu performed the heart exchange, at the Scholar’s Literary Society—

“Husband.”

“Master.”

At home, Scholar Hong’s wife waited anxiously. When he did not return, she took her maid and a lantern to the Scholar’s Literary Society to search for him.

The maid, walking ahead, suddenly tripped over Scholar Hong’s foot.

“Aaah!” The wife and maid, seeing Scholar Hong dead with his eyes staring wide open, collapsed to the ground in terror, screaming in panic.

The maid pulled the wife to her feet and hurried to the Capital Prefect’s office to report the death.

“What’s the commotion? Do you know what time it is?” a yamen runner grumbled, opening the gates.

“I have come to report a case—there’s been a murder,” the wife sobbed.

“Quick, show us the way!” The yamen runner’s demeanor changed at once. A murder in the capital was a grave affair. He summoned several colleagues and a coroner, and even the Capital Prefect was roused from his sleep to accompany them to the scene.

The coroner knelt beside Scholar Hong, closed his staring eyes, and began the examination. Discovering the missing heart, he made no further checks.

“Coroner, what caused the death?” the Prefect asked.

“Sir, the deceased’s chest was slashed open—a ghastly sight, though his abdomen is intact. However, his heart is missing. That’s unquestionably the cause of death,” the coroner replied.

Hearing this, the wife wept bitterly.

“Take the body back to the yamen,” the Prefect ordered gravely.

“Yes, sir,” the runners replied, carrying Scholar Hong’s body away.

“Sir, you must see justice done for me!” The wife knelt, blocking the Prefect’s path.

“Leave it to me—I will see justice done. We’ll discuss all details in the morning,” the Prefect said, helping her up before leaving the Literary Society.

The next morning.

“These are the proofs of Cao Zhenshi’s counterfeit medicine, along with evidence of other unsavory dealings. I believe you, Prefect, know what to do. Release Bai Yongcheng immediately,” said Li Xintian, who had spent the night gathering evidence as prompted by the King of Hell, arriving at dawn at the yamen.

The Prefect flipped through Cao Zhenshi’s account books, uncovering numerous shady transactions—the records as hot to the touch as a burning furnace.

“Release Bai Yongcheng at once,” the Prefect ordered. He knew that failing to do so would cost him his office, if not his life. Offending Ren Yuanwu was preferable to losing his own head.

“Who’s beating the drum?” The Prefect was about to say more to Li Xintian when he heard the commotion.

A runner hurried out to check.

“Sir, it’s the family of last night’s deceased,” he reported.

“Sir, you must give me justice! My husband died so horribly—his heart was cut out!” the wife cried, kneeling before the Prefect, her eyes brimming with tears.

“Didn’t I tell you? I will see justice done. Now, tell me—did Scholar Hong have any enemies in life?” The Prefect, recalling the gruesome death, felt a splitting headache coming on.