Chapter Sixty-Three: Fingerprints
The next day, at the Jiangnan Magistrate’s Office.
Within the great hall, the people of Jiangnan, upon hearing that the Song family father and son were to be brought to justice, spread the news like wildfire. In less than half an hour, the execution grounds were surrounded by a dense crowd. Amidst the onlookers, Zhang Shu was supporting Mao Shan, both of them fixated on Li Yunjie, their gaze brimming with hope.
“What’s going on? Isn’t that the young prince who disrupted the execution yesterday?”
“Why are Prefect Song and he standing trial together?”
“Then who will preside over this case?”
Everyone looked at the empty magistrate’s seat, their faces filled with confusion.
Song Yongnian’s brow furrowed. “Your Highness, what is the meaning of this? If you wish to confront me here, who is to preside over the case?”
Li Yunjie smiled faintly, turned slowly, and declared in a loud voice, “Today’s case has no single judge!”
“Everyone here is the judge!”
His words sent a wave of astonishment through the crowd. Always before, officials judged the people—now, the people would judge the officials. Such a reversal was hard for them to grasp.
“Absurd!” Song Zeye’s face contorted in anger. “These people are illiterate, and you would have them judge a case? Utter nonsense!”
Li Yunjie scoffed. “Does one need a vast knowledge of books to judge a case?”
“The essence is but two words: fairness.”
“These common folk may not know many characters, but fairness dwells in every heart. If anyone commits evil, do you think these people cannot see it?”
As his words fell, Zhang Shu raised her arm and shouted, “The young master is right! Justice is in the hearts of the people!”
Another echoed, “Yes! The Song family has committed countless crimes—they should have been tried long ago!”
“That’s right!”
With the collapse of the Song’s authority, the crowd’s resentment surged forth. The Song father and son had oppressed the people for years; now with the young prince standing up for them, the people were eager to see justice done. The crowd’s fervor was instantly ignited, their shouts shaking the skies.
Li Yunjie cast a challenging glance at Song Zeye. “What’s the matter, Young Master Song? Are you afraid?”
“Nonsense.” Song Zeye forced himself to appear calm. “I have always conducted myself righteously—what cause have I for fear?”
“Righteously?” Li Yunjie sneered. “Then why don’t you explain, Young Master Song, why my sister was found in your bedchamber last night?”
Song Zeye snorted, turning to look three seats away at Su Xiyan. “She seduced me! She—”
Before he could finish, Li Yunjie’s palm descended from the heavens, striking him hard across the face.
Li Yunjie leaned in coldly. “Perhaps you should look in a mirror at what kind of beast you are.”
“A beast in gentleman’s clothing dares slander my sister?”
The crowd burst into laughter at the sight, many thumping their chests and sighing that Li Yunjie’s slap was too light.
Clutching his face, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, Song Zeye shouted, “Li Yunjie, how dare you strike me! Father, seize him at once!”
Song Yongnian remained silent, looking at the bewildered Song Zeye with a helpless sigh.
“Father!” Song Zeye pleaded desperately.
Song Yongnian stepped forward, his expression calm. “Your Highness, are you trying to force a confession by violence?”
Li Yunjie waved his hand and smiled. “I am simply reminding you, Young Master Song, that in this hall, you must be mindful of your words and deeds.”
“Speaking of conduct,” Song Yongnian continued, “did not the young prince yesterday openly disrupt the execution and defy the law? What is the punishment for such a crime?”
“Yes! What punishment?” Song Zeye chimed in.
“Mao Shan was innocent. I merely rescued him in passing—what crime is that?”
Song Yongnian sneered. “That man murdered a prison guard—a heinous crime. Your Highness claims he is innocent. Are you sheltering him?”
“Murdered a prison guard?” Li Yunjie nodded with a smile. “Mao Shan knows no martial arts—how could he kill a guard?”
“That’s right!” someone shouted from the crowd. “I know Mao Shan. He’s a gentle soul—how could he murder anyone?”
“Exactly! You claim he killed a guard—where’s your evidence?”
The Song father and son’s faces darkened. The accusation had been fabricated from the start and could not withstand scrutiny. They chose to remain silent, thinking: if I say nothing, you can do nothing, for you have no proof.
Li Yunjie, of course, understood this. Changing tack, he asked sternly,
“Song Zeye, I ask you again: have you ever visited Mao Shan’s residence?”
Song Zeye denied it outright. “I don’t even know him—how could I have been to his home?”
At his words, Shi Yi stepped forward, holding a bronze mirror up to Song Zeye. On the mirror’s surface, several black patterns the size of thumbprints were clearly visible.
Li Yunjie spoke coldly. “Yesterday in this hall, didn’t you demand evidence?”
“This is the evidence!”
“On this bronze mirror, fingerprints were found that do not belong to Mao Shan or his wife.”
Song Zeye’s pupils contracted at the sight of the mirror, terror flashing across his face as he hurriedly looked away.
“What is this?”
“I’ve never seen it before!”
Li Yunjie snorted. “You claim you’ve never been to the Mao residence, yet your fingerprints were found on their mirror?”
“Impossible!” Song Zeye stammered, “How can you prove those prints are mine?”
Shi Yi seized Song Zeye’s right hand and made a cut on his thumb.
After squeezing out a trace of blood, he pressed the thumb onto a piece of white silk.
“A simple comparison will tell the truth!”
Shi Yi took the silk and the mirror, walking around for all to see.
Someone in the crowd whispered, “Fingerprint? What’s a fingerprint?”
A quick-witted middle-aged man explained, “It’s like the handprint you leave when you sign at the magistrate’s office.”
At this, the crowd murmured in sudden understanding.
The people’s eyes were sharp; though the lines were fine, after careful comparison, they matched exactly!
“It’s his!”
“It’s definitely his!”
“It’s him!”
The scene erupted instantly.
Song Zeye’s face turned ashen, cold sweat pouring down. Song Yongnian’s brow knit tightly, his complexion ashen. “How can you prove this object came from Mao Shan’s residence?”
He tried one last desperate struggle, but his voice lacked conviction.
Li Yunjie fixed him with a stern gaze. “The same prints were found on the bed of Mao Shan and his wife. Would you like me to take you there to see for yourself?”
Li Yunjie’s voice thundered through the hall, as though sealing their fate.
“So Mao Shan spoke the truth!”
“It was the Song scoundrel who violated his wife!”
“The hatred of a wife stolen cannot be reconciled! Kill the Song villain!”
“Kill the Song villain!”
“Kill the Song villain!”
The crowd was swept by a frenzy of fury, their cries deafening, all fingers pointing at Song Zeye.
The Song father and son’s faces were the color of death, knowing their fate was sealed. An overwhelming terror flooded Song Zeye, his body trembling uncontrollably.
Desperate to survive, Song Zeye dropped to his knees, kowtowing and pleading for mercy.
“I—I know I was wrong!”
“Your Highness, you are merciful—spare my worthless life!”
“I swear I will never do it again!”
“I swear to heaven!”
His forehead struck the stone slabs with resounding thuds, but Li Yunjie remained unmoved.
“It’s not that you know you were wrong.”
“It’s only that you know—you are about to die…”