【Pearl Coast - Pure White Lotus】(4)

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-23

Author: Yang Yixing Published: 2015/10/04
First published on: sis001
Word count: 13411
IV.
The year the nation fell, Queen Nalan was a young woman of twenty. She
spent the next twenty years in the conqueror's kingdom, a life intertwined with slavery and prostitution. She even gave birth to a son
. Time is often something that stretches infinitely, yet can vanish in an instant. When the slave Nalan began to feel
that it was all finally coming to an end, that she was likely about to die, looking back, she realized that whether
it was the power of a king or the misery suffered by a prostitute, all that remained were
shadows in memory. People die, and shadows vanish forever in the long night. That day, the woman knelt on the flower-covered floor of the Huaiyuan Pavilion in Guangdong Province
, biting her lip, thinking, "Twenty years, I really endured it all." "Just
a few more days," the woman comforted herself. She figured she could endure until she died. Then,
what would remain—the crown, the shackles, the bare breasts and buttocks of a slave who had spent half her life exposed?
That day, Nalan's old female slave was led upstairs to the restaurant to serve at a banquet.
The guest who entered was her son, Mu Nan, whom she hadn't seen for ten years. A strong premonition suddenly welled up in the woman's heart
: she was unlikely to live past the end of the year.
Premonitions are always
the result of accumulated gossip and rumors, and subconscious reflection and judgment. Later, a civil uprising swept through Nalan, and the Zhou dynasty's garrison was overthrown. At that point,
using her body to proclaim the king's will was no longer reasonable. After Princess Yi's failed attack on Qiongya and
the withdrawal of Ba's troops from Nalan, the Zhou dynasty, after three years, still showed no intention of returning to its former territory to restore
its power. It was clear that the dynasty's southern border strategy had changed. And the easiest
thing to happen in such a change is discarding those no longer useful scraps. She now resembled one of those scraps.
Another, even more important reason was her own body.
It was a miracle she had survived for twenty years in such a difficult and arduous life. The woman could no longer straighten her back; her spine
was stiff and bent, like a tree trunk struck by lightning that would never grow back straight. Whether standing to
walk or work, or kneeling to be beaten, she always had that hunched back and bowed head posture,
the ends of her hair falling to her shoulders all turned silver-white. Unless she had to forcefully straighten her neck, she could hardly see
the faces of her masters who were scolding and beating her. Unable to lift her head, she didn't need to; the kneeling old woman just stared intently
at the patch of dirt in front of her knees, muttering timidly. A few lashes might be bearable,
but if another kick landed, she'd roll to the side, cover her head, and let them
do whatever they wanted.
The lashes, kicks, and branding irons might heal the skin, leaving behind
scabs and scars. But the muscles and bones beneath the skin, enduring the pressure, tearing, and scorching heat,
would suffer wounds that seeped into the veins and blood vessels of her body, slowly radiating outwards. The pain was like
thousands of steel needles implanted inside her,
crawling and gnawing like ants from morning till night, never ceasing even at midnight. Lying down, the pain kept her awake
; every movement of her bones and joints produced a creaking, disjointed sound.
When she stood up, her hands trembled, unable to hold anything; her legs shook, making it difficult to walk. Her memory had deteriorated;
sometimes she was so confused that she would carry the toilets, which she had just washed, back to the underground riverbank one by one, and of course, she would
suffer even more beatings. So weak, the woman couldn't withstand the beatings; after one, she
wouldn't be able to get up for a day. But when she regained some consciousness at night, she would feel her front and back, plus her lower
body, still completely soaked, like a muddy beach after the tide had receded. That's because
even when a woman was unconscious, she would still be transported to the dock and sleep on the wooden platform. If even the Japanese
sailors thought she was too old, weak, and frail to be considered a living woman and were unwilling to have sex with her, the soldiers would have already found a way
to deal with her. After the caged cart entered the harbor, they led the other women to the second floor of the lookout tower, leaving
only Nalan's old cunt tied up outside. This tattered place was clearly meant for free sexual gratification. If you wanted a better experience
, pay upstairs. The brothers toil away all day in this filthy place like pimps, earning a few pennies—
what's the big deal?
The more they fight, the less they can do; the less they can do, the more they fight. It's a vicious cycle, a one-way street heading straight for the end. The woman
knows she's being drained dry, her last bit of energy depleted. Even more deteriorating is her spirit. She no longer
cares about being naked, barefoot, exposing her breasts and genitals. What's wrong with being a queen,
what's wrong with being a prostitute? Why does a woman even have a vagina? It's meant for men to penetrate. Whoever's stupid enough
to want to penetrate such a rotten, dog-like vagina, let them do it. Thrust hard, thrust
in all sorts of ways. Anyway, this thing is so filthy and open, like a mule track, trampled on as much as they want
. She, the master of this track, feels nothing, not even the slightest emotion. Joy is out of the question,
not even sorrow or anger, nothing at all. In truth, the only thing she cared about and longed for all day
was the handful of opium leaves she could hold while kneeling on the floor of the woodshed after the men had finished their intercourse
. Chewing on those leaves, the stars and moon in the sky seemed bright and clear, and her heart
was filled with a perfect, complete joy. Two slaps to the face, a kick to the buttocks—none of it hurt
. The chains and shackles on her neck, hands, and feet felt as light as paper. That hour truly felt like living another day of her
life.
So, for the next two years, Nalan the slave's fate was a foregone conclusion; it was simply a matter of
waiting for the day the gates would be opened and she would be sent out. In fact, the woman's intuition was indeed correct. The King of Lingnan
had indeed planned affairs on the southwestern frontier at the beginning of that year, and he remembered Nalan the slave then, and so on.
This determined her manner of death.
Princess Yi of Ba was defeated and captured, and by this time had been imprisoned by the Great Zhou for three years, while her father's rule
had been overthrown. Two years later, the political situation in Ba stabilized, and the King of Lingnan sent envoys to Ba, demanding
a ransom for Princess Yi's release. In reality, this was almost extortion, because
Princess Yi was undoubtedly a dangerous enemy to the current ruler who had seized power through rebellion. If the Great Zhou were to send her directly to the border of Nalan to help her
recruit soldiers and make a comeback, it would immediately unleash another bloodbath. Therefore, as long as Yi could be controlled
, spending some money was not a big deal. On the other hand, the King of Lingnan's consideration was that
the southwest, where Nalan and Ba were located, was no longer the strategic direction of the court. Yi's long-term imprisonment was merely a pawn;
it was better to simply throw her into the enemy's chessboard and let the opponent worry about her life or death. Perhaps it was a sudden flash of inspiration,
but he thought it might be interesting to send the deposed Nalan to them as well. He thought it over again and sketched
out the general operational plan. He reasoned that the woman had lived in the royal palace for twenty years, and then in the
slave quarters and brothels for another twenty. Even if it was all good and bad karma, it was all karmic retribution, and it could all come to an end. He would grant her
a fitting end.
All the information Nalan's royal slave knew before that evening's dinner was that someone had booked
a dinner at the flower-covered corridor. After returning to the pavilion from the port, she had knelt by the toilet wall, waiting to
perform for the guests who came to relieve themselves, but afterwards, someone came to lead her upstairs. Thinking back to when she was sent to Huaiyuan South Pavilion
, almost ten years had passed. She was a toilet slave, and in all that time, she had rarely been to a place
to eat. Even when she was, she wasn't allowed to touch the cups, plates, or chopsticks, let alone the various dishes. Every time she
was summoned here, she had only one thing to do: kneel on the ground and act as a leg supporting the dining table.
Upstairs, Nalan, the slave, also saw the brown-haired woman from the Western Regions. The white female slave was usually
managed by the kitchen in the pavilion; she ate and slept in the woodshed. Every night before going to the port to work as a prostitute
, she had to chop large tree stumps into enough small pieces of firewood for the day. Perhaps because the Western woman seemed more
robust, the way Huaiyuan South Pavilion controlled her was to wear a shackle around her neck day and night, without removing it during work or rest. Nalan
and the Western woman were two well-known royal slaves in Huaiyuan, and only the two in the pavilion were subject to
the system of wearing shackles permanently, one around the neck and the other around the feet, even giving the impression of a hierarchy. The two
women now stood side by side, allowing the servants in the corridor to remove the wooden shackles first. This was a pragmatic approach based on the situation
; much more would depend on the arrangements for their necks and legs.
For ten years, they had chopped firewood for thousands of days and hauled manure carts for thousands of days. One day, they were led into
a magnificent and opulent dining hall. Two slaves were ordered to move forward, turn, kneel, and look up, their movements
hesitant and somewhat timid. It wasn't just unfamiliarity; it was fear. Although there weren't
many precedents, this wasn't their first time, and they knew how agonizing the torture that followed would be. For
the female slaves of Nan Huaiyuan, kneeling and supporting the dining table with their arms was no easy feat. Being
pressed down beneath it meant repeatedly passing out from the pain, only to wake up again—a near-death experience—before enduring a
meal that lasted for half an hour.
The long, open flower-lined corridor had now been cleared of all tables and chairs. Halfway along the floor-to-ceiling windows,
a large, rectangular red table was placed horizontally. The table, nearly ten feet long and over two feet wide, was painted red and
lacquered, inlaid with mother-of-pearl depicting a scene of a bountiful fishing port. However, it also served as a
long wooden cangue to restrain the necks of two people. Both ends of the table had mortise and tenon joints, and there were bolts and pins underneath the panel
. Two female slaves, ten feet apart, knelt facing each other, each fitted with a neck-gripping cangue. These
two cangues, also with a glossy and exquisite red lacquer, were part of a set made with the dining table. Now,
the tabletop was inserted between the gaps in their neck cangues and assembled with bolts and pins, so that they could
support the table on their shoulders, becoming two kneeling table legs.
The two renowned slave girls of Nan Huaiyuan now knelt facing each other, their naked bodies covered
in tangled whip marks and brands. Comparing and contrasting them, the weathered flesh, eroded and worn by years of hardship,
resembled wood carvings and stone sculptures, layered and varied in form and shape. Their bodies were
used to create a piece of furniture, allowing one to see and contemplate, perhaps truly embodying the vicissitudes of time.
Following Huaiyuan's previous use of slave girls to set up platforms, the purpose of a banquet could be either to establish authority or to express lighthearted
entertainment, depending entirely on the guest. Once, an envoy from a foreign country presented a
letter written in a foreign language to the Zhou Dynasty. No one in the court could understand it, and this act was considered a deliberate act of disrespect to the Zhou
emperor. Fortunately, the poet Li Henan was residing in the capital at the time. He was summoned by the emperor, translated the foreign text,
and wrote a reply in the original language, thus preserving the dynasty's dignity. However, when the envoy
arrived in Yuezhou and prepared to board a ship to return home, he was entertained at a banquet in the Huaiyuan South Pavilion by slave girls kneeling on a platform
. That time, the two slaves, Nalan and Xi Nu, were first severely whipped all over with barbed iron whips
, their bodies torn and bleeding, before being used as food at the banquet. With two
naked women kneeling on either side, their bodies constantly oozing bright red blood, the air thick with the stench of blood, one can easily imagine
what a gruesome meal it was.
This time, the slave girls didn't see any further use of iron whips in the dining hall. Instead, they were directly subjected to the use of
wooden stakes. After the women hoisted the tabletop onto their shoulders, two heavy, thick wooden blocks were installed to tightly clamp
their bodies on either side. The blocks reached to their armpits, with shallow grooves on the inside and copper chains encircling them. Once their
waists, ribs, hips, and thighs filled the grooves, the copper chains were tightened circle by circle, squeezing the women until their
bones creaked. Then, they raised their arms to shoulder level, their upper arms outstretched, their elbows
resting on the upward-facing surfaces of the wooden blocks on either side, their forearms bent back, their fingertips touching...
Touch. Their arms circled in front of them, forming a diamond shape. At this point, the tabletop was still loosely supported on their shoulders and
arms. Human flesh is soft, and even living people inevitably twist and sway, which is why sturdy
wooden blocks were used to stabilize the women's bodies. If they were to kneel on the ground and lift the planks with their shoulders, the entire table would definitely
tilt and sway, resembling a small boat. The final step in setting up the table was to
press the tabletop down until it was perfectly flat and solid.
Creating such a practical and meaningful piece of furniture involved a comprehensive design. The tabletop
could be fitted with crossbars and connected to a square wooden base, with a mechanism and gears that pulled the large plank downwards step by step
. At each of these moments, the groans and cries of the women on both sides rose and fell, so mournful and poignant that they were chilling
. Because their arms were the supports placed in the gap between the table and the base, their elbows
were now being squeezed up and down by the wooden planks and blocks, and the pain they suffered was like that of being tortured by the government using clamps to compress
their foot bones. Moreover, this torture had no pauses; they had to wait
for someone to finish their meal under the constantly tightening clamps.
On a clean, flat, bright red table for guests to eat at, two lonely women's heads protruded from either end.
The woman's face was naturally facing inwards, but the seated diners had to glance under the table to see
her naked breasts, squeezed together by wooden blocks. The mounds of flesh first jutted outwards, then sagged downwards,
with bells and signs hanging from the iron rings passing through the nipples. The guest sitting on one side of the table had
the front half of a naked woman crowded next to his knees. The back and buttocks of this kneeling woman could
be seen from outside the table, along with a pair of legs and bare feet stretching out horizontally.
The young girls serving at the banquet bustled about, carrying wine jugs and cups,
setting out tableware in front of the two older female servants. Nalan, squeezed tightly by the various wooden utensils and chains,
could barely breathe. Her heart pounded intermittently, a sharp, stabbing pain that felt like a knife
twisting inside. This was just the first step in their ordeal of using women as a stage; they had experienced all sorts of ecstatic pleasures
. Besides whipping people until their faces and bodies were bruised and battered,
what would happen if a small snake were inserted into a bamboo tube and forced into their lower body?
If the guest was humble and respectful to the court, and didn't cause trouble, a
farewell banquet would be prepared for him. Back then, Nalan was a few years younger, her skin and face not as repulsive as they were now
. Throughout the banquet, while the main guests drank at the table, her snake burrowed into her vagina under the table. The woman,
unable to twist her body or breathe properly, was the subject of a lively conversation among the guests at the table. Occasionally, they would glance at the slave girl, exposed
on the table, shaking her head, her face flushed and contorted with anguish—a sight that provided a unique kind of amusement.
According to an unwritten custom of Huaiyuan Flower Gallery, whenever a woman was used to support the table,
one table leg was always reserved for the white slave from the Western Regions opposite. A rumor circulated among the Huaiyuan slaves that
using live women as furniture supports was actually an invention of their ancestors. The Western woman's father had once ruled a city
-state, defeating many powerful enemies in the fiercely competitive Western Regions. Legend had it
that the ruler of this city-state had a women's yoke made in his palace—a wide, red-lacquered platform that could restrain three
women on each side. The wives and daughters of his captive enemies were tortured by this yoke. The city lord stripped the concubines of the fallen kingdom
naked, shackled their necks and hands, and forced them to kneel on the ground, supporting the large bed with their shoulders.
Within arm's length of the mothers' eyes, the entire night unfolded with the performance of the abusive princesses. The city lord himself, sometimes with his
generals, would also take turns raping the daughters of the defeated.
The unfortunate mothers were chained to the rafters by the neck, and by dawn, perhaps
half of them had been strangled to death in their bed shackles, unconscious from exhaustion. Of course, for them, this ending
was even considered a blessing, because the surviving mothers would switch places with their daughters the following night. The naked
daughters would spend the entire night supporting the bed, watching their mothers'
submissive postures and the expressions of agony in their eyes as they were gang-raped.
According to legend, this western city was eventually conquered by the Zhou dynasty, and the Zhou soldiers, while celebrating their victory,
were also captivated by the design of this women's bed. From then on, the imperial court's Huaiyuan institution specially added such a
replica tableware. Because entertaining guests was a serious matter, unlike the licentious behavior of the Hu people where some shaking and rolling around were harmless,
the craftsmen made many improvements to the table to compress and hold a woman's body in place. Compared to
the naked mother's bed used for raping women, using a kneeling woman's standing table was a serious attitude befitting a responsible great power. The
unfortunate girl from the Western Regions was always assigned this role, which naturally implied a moral lesson about cause and effect,
and the inevitable retribution.
"Hey, hey! Nalan slave, open your mouth! Open your mouth!"
A man leaned down and spoke to her, slapping her across the face and calling out "Hey!" After being slapped several times,
she finally understood that he wanted her to open her mouth. Then she saw that the man held a cast
bronze hook with a handle in his other hand.
A chill ran through her. Anyway, she was going to be a death row inmate for life; if he
wanted her to open her mouth, she had no choice but to. The woman first tightly closed her eyes, then opened her mouth wide.
The sharp, pointed hook plunged in, twisting and turning inside her mouth, finally
piercing her tongue.
On the clean, flat, bright red table were two sets of silver-decorated blue-and-white porcelain dishes and bowls, and two pairs of ivory chopsticks.
Two women's heads were bound to the table at either end. Each woman's tongue protruded
beyond her lips, a copper hook piercing its surface, the end of which was connected to a copper chain. These two exquisite chains extended to the ceiling,
looped around a hanging ring, and suspended in the center of the long table, holding two large red lanterns.
That night, Nalan's slave mother, naked, tongue lolling out, bound by a bright red wooden yoke, handcuffed and shackled,
name tags and iron bells hanging from her breasts, knelt upright on the tiled floor of the flower-covered dining room, supporting a banquet table.
She heard two men, who had come to the banquet, take their seats opposite each other at the long table in front of her naked body. At that time, both women
were bleeding profusely from their lips and mouths, and the various pains throughout their bodies caused them to weep incessantly. Dizzy and disoriented, the Nalan
woman could only see a blurry silhouette. But she was a mother;
how could she not know if her son came within ten feet of her?
Mu Nan, who had been enfeoffed by the Great Zhou Dynasty, grew up on the northern frontier with his slave mother until the age of seven. Those
were undoubtedly difficult and arduous days. During those years, Nalan's slave mother had to go to the garrison commander's office every month to be punished,
but she was also allowed to see her son there. General Luo's attitude towards Nalan prisoners could be considered relatively lenient
. After ten years of enslavement on the northern frontier, the slave girl and child were sent to the capital to continue their imprisonment. Eight-year-old Mu
Nan witnessed his mother being tortured naked and having intercourse with animals for the first time that year. The mother
would probably never forget the scene of being forced to masturbate her son under the whip.
After serving three years of forced labor in the capital, Nalan was brought to Huaiyuan Nange by the Southern King. Her son, Mu Nan, remained in
the capital as a dependent marquis. This year, the Marquis of Yanliang was sent south to Guangdong Province according to the court's arrangements. This
whole ordeal took nearly ten years, and the twenty-year-old Mu Nan was certainly no longer
the image she remembered. The mother slowly ached and wept, forcing herself to listen attentively to their conversation
. Mu Nan's voice had changed, but she could still recognize her son's.
After the Ba Kingdom withdrew its troops, Nalan was plunged into a chaotic situation of warlordism and constant warfare. Following the simplest
yet often most effective strategy, the Great Zhou Dynasty selected the two strongest military and political forces and
provided support to the weaker one. The political means of this support was to send the legitimate heir of the old Nalan dynasty back home.
At the beginning of the year, the King of Lingnan formulated a comprehensive strategy for the southwest, which included arrangements for Mu Nan.
That evening, only two guests dined in the South Pavilion's flower-lined corridor. The official conversing with Mu Nan wasn't
entirely unfamiliar; after a few pleasantries, it was clear he was the Southern King's attendant known for his habit of slapping people on the chest with a fan.
Their conversation followed a logical thread they already knew;
many things had undoubtedly happened, many arrangements made. She didn't know the origins or causes, but she could guess and calculate. As
a woman who had ruled a country, she could piece together a general picture from fragmented information. She could tell
the plan was complete and about to be implemented. The way the king's men and the gift to be sent met
—a private relationship with an official veneer—avoided overly formal formalities,
allowing them to speak frankly. For example, Nalan was preparing to restore the old dynasty's name and,
upon Mu Nan's return, to enthrone him on the throne. Discussing such matters publicly was not entirely appropriate.
Mu Nan was returning home!
No matter how many ups and downs she had experienced in life, or what kind of indifference she had developed, the woman from Nalan
probably couldn't control the turbulent thoughts swirling within her. After much
deliberation, she knew that Mu Nan's return to be king had a nine-tenths chance of ending badly. The armed strongmen of Nalan
had only used him as a figurehead; he had neither military experience nor political maneuvering skills, and would only be
a pawn to be manipulated at will. Ironically, Mu Nan's safest place was actually in the Great
Zhou. For a royal mother whose kingdom had been destroyed, the fact that her son hadn't been castrated and sent to be a eunuch
was already a very lenient treatment. But thinking about it another way, the Zhou Dynasty had spared Mu Nan and even
bestowed upon him a title, intending to see what use he could have. Otherwise, why would they
raise a child of a foreign slave for free?
Regardless of the thoughts the mother had that night, the fact that she was a guilty slave awaiting execution
remained unchanged. She couldn't do anything anyway. Perhaps it was a 　　cruel joke to have her tightly chained to one end of the table,
forced to listen to her son's fate while completely immobilized. To hook out her tongue and render her speechless, though she wouldn't dare say anything anyway, was to prevent a 　　hysterical outburst of crying and rolling on the floor. In truth, she still hadn't clearly seen 　　what Mu Nan looked like grown up; with her tongue pierced, stretched out, and something attached, tears simply wouldn't stop. 　　That evening, only after dinner was over did Nalan's mother suddenly realize her vision was becoming clear 　　. Her tears had miraculously stopped flowing. At that moment, the guests were politely declining and 　　leaving. She saw a man's profile flash past her. It was a tall man, far 　　taller than Mu Nan, who was around ten years old. But that was her Mu Nan. He must have walked past her bare legs and feet from behind 　　. Even though her tongue, which was causing her excruciating pain, was being pulled heavily forward and upward 　　, the mother still tried to glance outward. But she only saw 　　the back of a young man walking towards the door. 　　The woman could see clearly now. The girls were clearing the table, and she waited silently for a while before seeing 　　the men carrying lanterns approach. This time they were carrying sharp knives. They told her they were going to cut off 　　her tongue. 　　"What you just heard were all important military matters. The Prince's Mansion sent word that you heard them, which is an extraordinary favor. 　　After hearing them, everyone's mouths will be sealed with sharp knives. This is called 'the law is merciless.' 　　Remember to thank him after you're done. Being able to see you two is a great 　　favor to the Prince... 　　Cutting off a person's tongue while they're still alive is much more difficult than simply hanging it on a hook. That's why so many people were sent." Someone grabbed her hair, 　　someone else gripped the hook and pulled her outwards violently. The woman's face flushed red from the pulling, she choked and gagged, as if her throat was 　　about to pop out of her lips. Her tongue, already stiff and almost numb from a meal, 　　was completely different when the knife slashed it. Before one or two cuts were even finished, she was sawed back and forth four or five times. That 　　was truly what you call heart-wrenching, excruciating pain. 　　Every inch of it was severed. Every inch of it ached. Nalan didn't know how long the pain had lasted all over her body.

The slave, in a daze, saw a naked woman before her. She saw the woman lying on her back
on a wooden frame, legs spread wide, knees bent, ankles tightly bound to the frame. The woman, lying on her back,
couldn't see where her legs were pointing, but she suddenly knew in her heart that her
son stood there. Her son had grown so big, but she would never have the chance to see his adult face again. She
tried hard to remember, but the only image she could recall of Mu Nan was that of an eight-year-old boy. The eight-year-old boy always stood
five paces away, silently watching his naked mother. She had never
worn clothes in front of her son.
A man pinched one of the woman's nipples and pulled it upwards. "Look carefully, what is this?
This is your mother's big nipple."
She heard a slap. "Say it! What is this?"
It was the teacher sent by the court to teach her son. Teachers have the right to discipline their students.
"This is my mom's big nipple." She heard the boy's monotonous, rigid reply.
A black mist swept across the woman's vision. She silently closed her eyes on her side of the wooden frame. But this
was probably just her instinctive reaction; the rules set for her were always that she had to obediently watch herself get beaten
. On the other side, the mother immediately received two slaps across the face.
"Open your fucking eyes!"
It was always like this. Every time, the mother and boy stared intently at the red-hot iron tip from opposite directions,
until it was pressed firmly against the mother's nipple. The woman always twisted and struggled in front of her son
, screaming again and again. She defecated uncontrollably in front of her son, her wide-open legs
covered in filth, and then vomited.
Tell your son, what are you?
"Son, son, son..." the woman mumbled incoherently. "Your mother is a slave... a
lowly slave... oh my god!"
With a sizzle, the iron bar plunged straight into her armpit. Her body writhed like a snake. "
Your son didn't hear me!" Shout with all your might, tell your son you're a beast!
The branding iron was held in front of her eyes. If she didn't scream, her face would be burned; they weren't inexperienced
in doing it.
"Son, did you hear me?! Your mother is a whore who gets fucked every day... every day! Son...
son... your mother is a beast born of dogs!"
So this woman was herself. Nalan thought dazedly. "I was a few
years younger back then, I still had the energy to shout that loud." The woman was dazed for a while, then thought, "When Mu Nan was eight years old...
it must have been during those years living in the capital."
That place was the small courtyard where Mu Nan lived in the capital. When she was working for the Prince of Huaiyuan in the capital,
she was subjected to torture every month according to imperial decree. She was always loaded into a carriage and taken to Mu Nan's house to be tortured. The officials felt that Huaiyuan
in the capital was about dignity and solemnity, unsuitable for the torture of naked women. They figured that in a secluded place, they could do whatever they wanted
without anyone interfering. Moreover, the false king's son had grown up to be old enough to accept both kindness and severity, and to distinguish right from wrong
. All land under heaven belongs to the emperor; resisting the Great Zhou was a grave offense, and they wanted him to remember the lessons of his predecessors
.
In the early years in the northern frontier, her chest and back were ironed with triangular iron ingots. Later, they gradually replaced them
with thinner iron bars. This wasn't to make her suffer more, of course; it was to prevent her from dying instantly from the pain,
allowing her to slowly endure the suffering. The emperor's decree required numbers, but in practice, the
intensity of each torture could be adjusted, and the whipping could be varying in strength. This way, she could endure 108
lashes and 36 burns every month for twenty years. However, not wanting to scald her to death immediately doesn't mean that a momentary whim can't
lead to playing with her until she's in excruciating pain. Even the thinnest iron tip, after being heated red-hot,
would be used to iron the woman's breasts horizontally and vertically, turning her full, bouncy breasts into a black and red, oily, oozing barbecued meat. After the unconscious woman
was doused with two buckets of cold water, the men's rough, strong hands and fingers would move to her crotch,
rubbing and thrusting, pinching and squeezing her clitoris, kneading it repeatedly until even
the sounds she made were different.
Then someone would speak. "See this place? This thing is called a cunt. You crawled
out of this place. Did you hear me clearly this time?
This is the dog mother who gave birth to you, this is your dog mother's cunt. Tell me! What is this?
This is the dog mother who gave birth to me, this is my dog mother's cunt."
She must have cried then. Nalan, the slave, opened her eyes, sobbing and choking. She felt
tears streaming down her face, and she saw large, thick cumulus clouds floating in the pale blue tropical sky. She
was indeed lying supine on a wooden frame, her hands and feet tightly bound, her body in a so-called "
rabbit kicking an eagle" shape. Her mouth was stuffed tightly with a large wad of cotton, bound tightly with a cloth strip
. This was at the dock on the banks of the Yuecheng River; her tongue had been cut off the night before.
Twenty days later, the Southern King would lead his fleet on his latest inspection tour. That entire day, Nalan, the slave,
remained bound to the Yihe Terrace in the harbor, using her thin, dark body to receive one foreigner after another.
This day was no different from the previous twenty. The woman felt her severed
tongue healing, except that she could no longer speak. During the banquet, the tabletop had
been pressed down too tightly, breaking her right elbow joint. In fact, her left arm had been immobile for a long time
. When she was tied to the platform during the day, these areas were naturally very painful. However, now that she was in this state
, Nalan, the slave, truly had no way to pull the manure cart or clean the toilets anymore. She was chained to the woodshed
, where at least she could lie down and sleep for a few nights. No one told her about Mu Nan again. In fact,
no one told her anything more. She was only dragged up from the wooden platform by a group of soldiers that afternoon, and
in her dazed state, she saw a huge ship already docked on the shore. She could still recognize it as the flagship of the Prince of Lingnan.
She herself had served as a rower on this ship. The woman now realized that the king was beginning to execute
his plan, and Mu Nan was very likely on board. But what would they use her for?
Nalan's slave, in the somewhat familiar third-floor oarsmen, saw another naked young
woman. The woman was shackled in heavy chains, sitting in the first seat of the first row by the aisle
, a conspicuous bright red birthmark on her left breast. Nalan's slave was forced to kneel at the young woman's feet.
Someone lifted the identification tag hanging from her nipple ring; the woman glanced at it and closed her eyes briefly. She knew
who she was, but no one spoke to Nalan's slave. In fact, Nalan's slave didn't
have to wait long, as the hammer, nails, rope, and a thick wooden stick were already
prepared on the ship's side.
For the Southern King's soldiers, accustomed to bloodshed and slaughter, the remaining task wasn't particularly large; it was just that the continuous
preparations might take time. The first thing to do was to nail this old, ugly woman who had been a prostitute for twenty years to the log.
The king wanted her to die slowly, so after spreading her arms, he pressed her against the log, nailing only her wrists. Ropes
were used to secure the log and hoist it to the top of the cabin. The woman, of course, cried and screamed, rising upright along with the log
. Her feet hadn't left the ground yet, but each foot was pulled outwards about a foot, roughly positioning her
with her upper body straight and legs apart. Only then were two long nails driven through the insteps. The pointed ends of the
nails, of course, were driven deep into the floorboards to secure them in place. If there was any concern that she might struggle and break
the bones in her feet, more rope could be used to tie her ankles as well.
All of this was efficiently completed before the large ship left port. The fleet sailing down the river began
maneuvering, the drums in the oarsmen thundering as the soldiers fought with all their might. Once they entered the Lingdingyang from the Pearl River estuary, the sea breeze was blowing from
north to south, and all the warships hoisted their sails and surged forward, the oarsmen falling silent. This provided a respite, and
several idle sailors each grabbed a sharp knife and
meticulously slashed open the flesh of the naked woman who was pinned to the ground at the front of the oarsmen, her hands and feet bound, then smeared her with coarse salt. The king's intention was
to preserve her alive, turning her into a piece of salted meat. He had originally intended to use this opportunity to send a dead body along, to disgust those
barbarians from Ba. Although the idea of salting a person sounded horrifying,
there was no better way to preserve a corpse in the south than with salt.
Thick flesh on the buttocks and legs required patience for salting. The first cuts were half an inch apart,
two fen deep, ensuring the wounds were fully embedded with salt granules to prevent rotting and stench. The next day, the surface of the skin
was pale and dried out. This time, a four-tenths-inch deep cut was made; if blood oozed out,
the size was just right. After cutting it again in this way, it was salted again.
The woman hadn't died in these two days; people had fed her porridge and water. Of course
, everyone had followed her every hour, witnessing her immense pain. In truth,
given the opportunity to manipulate a woman at will, the men certainly wouldn't behave. From the very beginning
until the end, the men repeatedly violated and abused her, always focusing on her breasts and
the two openings beneath her body. On the woman's breasts, the nipples were cut vertically into four pieces; the entire mass of skin, flesh,
and fascia was layered with cuts, all fluffed up and rolled up, red blood and white flesh piled
up like a large flower in its fading season. Passersby, whoever remembered, would make a couple of
cuts on her body, some even tearing off a piece of flesh and turning it inside out. Slowly, tendonystrophic
strips of flesh and skin dangled from between the woman's legs. Though messy and tangled, marinated to a dull gray, shrunken, stiff and hard, one could still discern
some of the muscles cut from the inner thighs, and others of the labia that should have covered her entrance.
While they were alive, countless tiny cuts and brine soaks had been inflicted. Now,
ripped out from under her body, the mottled wounds resembled two dried-up, salted fish with their scales scraped off.
The entrance was now wide open, hanging between her legs. Afterwards, barbed wooden sticks were used, dipped in
salt, and thrust in and out, rotating. Anyone who felt like it could try it themselves,
and there were always more to come. Nalan, that woman, had probably prayed
for life a hundred times and for death a hundred times in such a day , enduring excruciating pain for a whole day, two whole days, but not
a single god in heaven or on earth answered her prayers. Her only stroke of luck was that after twenty years of slavery and prostitution, she
was barely clinging to life, and she wouldn't last three or four days anyway.
By the third night, everyone could see she was barely breathing. They no longer cared
whether she lived or died. This round began with her head; the blade sliced down, tearing
open patches of raw flesh from her face—her nose, lips, cheeks, and even her eyes were all ripped from their
places. As salt was rubbed onto the blood-soaked mess, there was still a faint hissing sound in her throat
. The main method used to deal with a woman's lower body was still with sticks. Coarse salt was stuffed into both the front and back openings of her vagina.
After a while of stuffing and stirring, her front was quickly filled into a full, white, spice jar
. The anus was a completely different story; it might take all night to fill it up. At this point,
there was no time to delay. The simplest method was to loosen the ropes and wooden planks, letting this wet, salty lump of flesh lie flat on the deck
, and then directly cut it open. A whole bucket of salt was brought in and ladled into her cavity, one ladleful at a time.
At that time, this large boat did not use oars. According to the long-standing tradition under the oars, in addition to rowing, another responsibility of the female oarsmen
was to satisfy the sexual desires of the men in the cabin. The young oarswoman, who was assigned to the first seat in the first row,
was held by the waist and had her buttocks raised high. Her upper body was lying on the large oar, and her wrists
were tightly locked to the wooden handle of the oar. The man behind her thrust into her body with a surge of force, but she quickly restrained
herself, changing her approach to a more leisurely and playful one. He wandered casually through the latrine, craning his neck to watch
the woman ahead, who was enjoying herself while being pickled like pork.
"Oh, look... look at those toes! Look at her toes, the tendons are twitching!"
The boat slave, who had been rowing and being fucked since setting sail from Yuezhou, had no interest in looking at another woman's toes
. Those two thin, bare feet were nailed to the deck three feet in front of her body. For two days and two
nights, she had watched them, pickled in blood and salt, twitching endlessly. The men behind her...
well, the more they looked, the more they wanted to think.
"Girl, let me tell you, it's only because that old cunt wasn't hot enough that she died before the third day.
If it were you, we brothers would cut you very carefully, rubbing salt on you bit by bit. Those two firm,
fleshy buttocks... we promise we won't touch your face at all. Maybe in ten or eight days, you'll
be all dried meat and still alive. Your little mouth will be red and wet, and you can even lick our dicks. Tsk tsk
tsk."
The fleet led by the king first sailed deep into the South Seas, stopping all the way from Penang, the furthest
point on its return journey. It only visited Nalan, which was embroiled in a nationwide civil war, near the end of its voyage. The purpose was to return
the heir to the previous dynasty's throne. This month-long sea voyage would allow the prince to witness the grandeur
and strength of the Great Zhou fleet, and also allow Princess Yi to suffer a few more days of torment, and perhaps a few more days of sun exposure to
evaporate the excess moisture from her salted meat. After setting sail from Nalan, rounding the land border, and sailing for three days and three nights, all the warships lined up in
a straight line on the ocean and anchored. Directly ahead lay the verdant harbor of Bangcheng.
After the massacre and looting three years prior, Bangcheng had never recovered. The wooden
houses built by ordinary residents left few traces after fires; grass and trees quickly grew back, eventually covering
all traces of blood and fire. This flat land west of the Changshan Mountains now stretched along the coastline
, a vast and boundless wilderness.
Having traveled for a long time from the northern capital, traversing the vast plains
of the Great Lakes and the coastal jungles, the officials of the Ba Kingdom reached the end of the beach to greet the envoys of the Great Zhou. A long procession of slaves followed behind them
, carrying many wooden chests filled with gold. Some Great Zhou troops, already ashore,
were positioned on the flanks of the Ba people; the battle-hardened king, of course, remained vigilant. Large ships could not approach the beach
; they lowered small, hand-rowed boats from their sides to transport people and goods. The Ba official saw that on the boat approaching him,
besides two rows of oarsmen, there was only a young woman in blue robes, a bald nun
. When the woman stepped across the gunwale into the sand and water, he noticed she wasn't even wearing shoes.
One of her feet was missing a toe.
The young nun said, "The Southern King has been granted the land of Yue by the Great Zhou Emperor to guard the borders and pacify the barbarians . I, the nun
, have brought you these things as instructed by the King."
The second hand-rowed boat carried the items she had mentioned. The naked woman, her hands and feet shackled, was
the former princess Yi he knew; she had a birthmark on her left breast. Another pale woman sat in a
large glass basin. This woman was naked, bald, without arms or legs; a glass water container was inserted into her mouth
, and chained copper hooks hung from her nostrils. Around the neck of the naked woman in the basin was a transparent crystal necklace. Later,
they would hear rumors that the King of Lingnan had personally placed this necklace on her. Finally, there was a
corpse haphazardly bound together with bamboo mats and straw ropes. The mats covered her head and face, with only
a few streaks of white hair showing; beneath the mats, half a lower leg and two withered, yellowish feet protruded.
Having endured pickling and sun exposure, the wrinkled skin and sharp joints twisted and stretched, a gruesome and terrifying sight
. Her calves were so thin they could only be grasped with one hand, yet they were still bound by two
iron hoops connected by a long, thick chain, only held in place by straw ropes.
The Central Plains kingdom hadn't sent any officials to meet him, only a nun—a clear
insult. He didn't know what use the other two things besides Yi were.
The officials of Ba remained respectful, bowing deeply in gratitude to the nun. His slaves unloaded
the wooden chests containing gold on the beach and were already gathered around the glass basin, arranging for its binding and transport. Moving the dead should be simple;
she couldn't possibly be heavy. The official said to Yi, "Let's go, the iron cage and prison cart are waiting by the woods."

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