"That was my younger sister born of my father's concubine. She also lost her hands. Just like that girl." Kuo murmured.
"What wrong did she commit?" I asked. Kuo replied, "Wugu, do you know it?" Wugu was an ancient Chinese superstition about ghosts and demons. It was believed that people could curse others by making dolls and writing someone's name on the back. Even today, in Hong Kong and Guangdong regions of China, there are street vendors offering "beat the little person" services. These spiritually gifted vendors supposedly place the names of clients' enemies in small dolls' pockets, then whip them with prepared whips—commonly known as "beating the little person." Even the famous streamer Ishowspeed encountered this during his livestream.
But in ancient China, this was considered the most malicious curse. According to the ritual of Chou, it was punishable by extreme penalties, such as cutting off limbs.
Kuo said: "But she was just a child under ten years old. How would she understand such strange practices? I don't believe it, but someone falsely accused her, and my father even launched a military expedition against the eastern barbarian Yi tribes because of this." "Ah? Was her mother from the Yi tribe? Could this just be an excuse for war?" Kuo gave a weak, cold laugh and said: "I don't know. But this is the ritual of Chou—once someone violates a taboo, one person's crime brings misfortune to their mother and entire clan."
"A child, who could she curse? The Duke of Lu? Or your mother, the Duchess of Lu?" I sighed and continued, "Usually, this is just children's mischief, it shouldn't be like this..." Indeed, such wugu incidents were very common in royal households, like younger sons cursing the legitimate heir to death for a title, or lower-ranked concubines cursing the empress to gain higher status. But normally, such matters would be downplayed and quietly resolved.
"She cursed the entire Ji royal clan, even including me and herself!" Kuo lowered his voice. "What?" This I truly hadn't expected. "And you know what?" Kuo continued in a hushed tone: "There are royal spies around us, watching our every move. Even this incident—I suspect they orchestrated it!" Kuo's voice grew increasingly quiet, until it was almost drowned out by the tavern's noise.
"I know, my father told me about this. He instructed me not to speak carelessly even at home, saying walls have ears everywhere." I responded to Kuo. "Damn these dogs," Kuo said with some anger, "the King of Chou's hounds! Do you know? I've been in their prison." "What?" I was even more shocked—this was completely unexpected. I had always thought someone outwardly timid like Kuo would certainly be a law-abiding citizen. I asked him: "Was it because of your sister's case?" He answered: "Yes, they thought I protected my sister, spoke for the Yi people, and attacked their ritual of Chou." Kuo's face had reddened with anger at some point: "You know what? I really hate the ritual of Chou, hate this hypocritical system of ruler and subject. You know, they sent four men to arrest me—four whole men—to capture one unarmed person. They were the King's personal guards, and all four of them arrested me right in front of my father, claiming I violated the ritual of Chou. And my damn father just stood there saying, 'Good, good!'"
In ancient Chou Dynasty, the first king established a very tight intelligence and spy network to monitor everyone's behavior. This system reached its peak during the reign of King Li of Chou, the father of King Xuan. It's said that people dared not speak truthfully even in their homes, as nobles were imprisoned to death after being reported even by their closest wives and sons. People only dared discuss King Li and his insane system in taverns, where noisy singing and dancing would cover their voices. Eventually, it was in such taverns that several nobles plotted rebellion and finally exiled the tyrannical King Li. However, this spy system didn't completely disappear with King Li's death. Although King Xuan initially encouraged people to speak freely and criticize his policies when he first inherited the throne, things changed after he truly seized power and executed the nobles who had exiled his father. Though invisible, they seemed to have returned.
Yet nobles who had long lived in the capital had grown accustomed to this life without privacy, which shaped their restrained and steady temperament. But those nobles guarding the empire's borders, like the Duke of Lu, perhaps hadn't noticed these subtle changes.
Kuo said: "Damn it, from that day on, I swore I would fight them to the end!" I sighed and said: "Actually, the nobles in the capital have long known of their existence. They send people to monitor your every move, like what we said in class today, what time we ate where. They know everything. But King Xuan has limited energy—he probably wouldn't be concerned with trivial matters like ours, as he has too many nobles to monitor." I took a sip of wine and paused: "However, if they learn of any comments attacking the ritual of Chou, or any substantial actions, they'll certainly report upward and take action! I've heard they're very formidable. What did they do to you?"
"First they asked if it was my father, the Duke of Lu, or the eastern Yi barbarian people who told me to say and do these things. They suspected I was a Yi spy, kept me in prison for two days, but I said nothing. I told them these were my own thoughts—I believed my younger sister was innocent and that the judgement by ritual of Chou was wrong. Nobody instructed me to say this!" But I was still puzzled, "Yet you're out now, sitting in a tavern in Chou Plateau! How were you released?" He said: "Later, they moved me to another place. I was confined in the ancestral temple, where the court-employed shamans worship ancestors."
Kuo gritted his teeth: "They were so hateful—they insisted I was possessed by evil spirits, that my sister's curse had made me ghost-possessed and mentally deranged."
Ghost possession was a unique concept in ancient China. Sometimes, symptoms of schizophrenia would be interpreted this way, with patients' erratic behavior attributed to ghost control. Thus, these people would be forcibly sent to ancestral temples, places where shamans gathered, for treatment. Actually, this was very similar to witch-hunting in the West—a fabrication creating something from nothing.
Kuo continued: "The shaman doctors there made me drink many medicines every day, every day! I stayed there for a whole month. You know? Life there was truly worse than prison. I was tied to a bed, not allowed to move or speak. They looked at me strangely, like I was a beast or animal. Even when my father came to visit, he said I must be completely cured. But I wasn't sick at all, I wasn't sick!"
"You know why I hate my father so much? He treated me like a patient, like an enemy. He told the King's guards to discipline me well. He told the shamans to drive the demons out of my heart! But there were no demons in my heart—they were the ones possessed. Only my birth mother, the Duchess of Lu, wept constantly when she visited me. I felt terrible. I don't think I've wronged anyone except my mother."
I pondered for a moment and said: "Sigh! Your father was indeed somewhat heartless... But have you considered that if not for the 'ghost possession' explanation, do you know what crime opposing royal orders and attacking the ritual of Chou amounts to? It's practically rebellion! And this matter even involved the Yi barbarian people. Based on these charges alone, the King had reason to imprison you for life. Actually, your father was protecting you in his own way. And through this method, you can now study here instead of rotting in prison."
Kuo was a simple-minded person who clearly hadn't considered these points, and he lowered his head in thought. I continued: "If your father had shown any sign of sheltering you, like you did for your sister, he would likely have shared your fate—imprisonment. But his attacks and insults toward you, even the later war against the eastern barbarian Yi, all served one purpose—to demonstrate loyalty to the royal house. He was merely putting on a show of being tough."
"You know, an eastern Yi friend once told me to look at what people say, not what they actually do." This obviously sparked Kuo's interest. He said: "What? You have a friend from the eastern Yi? I've heard their system is much better than Chou's. They have a system called 'DEMOKRATIA'—democracy, have you heard of it? It's completely different from our Chou king's rule where one person dictates everything arbitrarily. There, everyone can participate in governing the state, and rulers are elected by citizens using pottery shards. It's much better than the ritual system of Chou. If you ask me, King Li was an idiot, and the current King Xuan is an even bigger idiot!"
I shook my head and said: "The eastern barbarians do indeed practice a system completely different from Chou's. But I don't think they're necessarily superior—at least they're now being driven back by your father's army." Kuo became agitated again, his face turning red: "No, at least there are no slaves there, everyone is equal, not like my sister or Ching Hsiao who just lost fingers and hands."
"That's because you don't understand them at all!" I said decisively.