Immortality begins in Goose City

Chapter 63 Beheading

Boos and shouts of discontent began to erupt from the audience.

"What happened?"

Where are they?

"Hurry up! Stop dawdling!"

The troupe leader, sweat beading on his forehead, quickly bowed to the audience, saying, "Please be patient, everyone! The backstage staff is probably preparing; it will be ready soon! Very soon!"

He turned around for the third time, facing backstage, and practically roared, "Why aren't you on stage yet?! What are you waiting for?!"

The backstage area remained eerily silent.

This caused the discontent in the audience to completely erupt!

Boos, hisses, and curses filled the air!

Some people even started throwing sunflower seed shells and fruit pits onto the stage.

"Refund!"

"What kind of rubbish is this?!"

"A bunch of swindlers!"

Seeing that the situation was about to get out of control, the troupe leader was extremely anxious.

Just then, the backstage curtain was suddenly flung open!

The big-breasted woman who blew sugar figurines in the afternoon rushed out!

She was out of breath, her chest heaving, her face flushed, and she pointed backstage, her voice trembling with tears and panic:

"Class...Class teacher! Something terrible has happened!"

The troupe leader's expression changed: "What happened? Why are you in such a panic!"

"Sun...Sun Liang!" the woman cried, her voice trembling with sobs. "That heartless bastard, Sun Liang!"

"He...he took all our valuables for tonight, trying to run away!"

"Thank goodness... thank goodness Ma Da found out and brought him back!"

As soon as she finished speaking, two more men walked out from backstage.

It was the same triangular-eyed man with the whip from the previous performance who dragged out a short, fat man, bound tightly with hemp rope and with a bruised and swollen face, like a dead dog, and slammed him hard onto the stage!

With a "thud," the short, stout man named Sun Liang fell onto the table, wincing in pain.

Beside him lay a bulging gray cloth bundle, loosely tied, revealing scattered copper coins and silver pieces that glittered under the lamplight.

This sudden turn of events caused the noise from the audience to immediately subside.

All eyes were drawn to the dramatic infighting on stage.

The dissatisfaction and anger from before were quickly replaced by the blazing fire of gossip.

Indeed, no matter when or where, watching the excitement and gossip are the most basic pleasures for ordinary people.

The short, stout Sun Liang was badly hurt by the fall. He struggled to his feet, ignoring the pain, and immediately knelt before the troupe leader, kowtowing repeatedly while tears streamed down his face.

"Master! Master, spare me! I... I was momentarily bewitched! My mind was clouded! I'm not human!"

"Please, Master, have mercy on me and spare my life, considering how many years I've served the troupe!"

"That money... I didn't touch a single penny of it, it's all here!"

The troupe leader looked at Sun Liang, who was kowtowing on the ground, and then at the bag of valuables. His face was so gloomy it could drip water.

He remained silent for a few moments before slowly speaking, his voice icy:

"Sun Liang. You know the class rules. You also understand the rules of conduct."

"We jugglers travel all over the country, relying on our reputation and following the rules!"

"No matter how big the bill is, you can borrow or buy on credit. In times of emergency, there's always a way to get things done."

"The word 'steal' is the one thing you must never touch! Once you do, it's a dead end!"

He surveyed the audience, as if explaining something to them, or perhaps issuing a verdict:

"If this were any other day, in the middle of nowhere, if I encountered such a treacherous and filthy creature, I would have chopped it up and thrown it to the wild dogs!"

He pointed at Sun Liang, then at the audience below the stage: "Today, in front of so many esteemed gentlemen, I'm only saying these few words of nonsense to let you die knowing why!"

Upon hearing the word "death," Sun Liang was terrified, his face streaked with snot and tears.

He stopped pleading with the troupe leader and instead turned sharply to the audience below the stage. He slithered to the edge of the stage like a worm and began to kowtow frantically to the dark mass of people in the audience.

"My lords! My living bodhisattvas! Save me! Save me! I don't want to die!"

"I acted impulsively! I stole the money because I was in debt! I had no choice!"

The audience below the stage were talking amongst themselves, cursing and saying things like "He deserves to die."

Sun Liang cried and shouted, "I borrowed money at exorbitant interest rates, that's...that's because of my mother!"

"My mother is seriously ill and is on her deathbed!"

"I had no choice! I borrowed money at exorbitant interest rates to save my mother! The interest kept compounding, and I couldn't pay it back, so... so I resorted to this crooked idea!"

"My lords, I, Sun Liang, am not inherently evil; I am doing this to fulfill my filial duty!"

"Please, please say something for me!"

These words elicited a complex reaction from the audience.

Those who had been cursing him just moments before fell silent, their faces showing hesitation and sympathy.

"So it was for treating my mother's illness..."

"Sigh, he's a filial son, but he's gone down the wrong path."

"Interested lending is a money-devouring hole!"

Others scoffed: "A filial son? Does that give him the right to steal? If you don't have money, you can borrow it, you can ask the troupe leader. What kind of skill is stealing?"

"Exactly! Rules are rules!"

Opinions vary, and no consensus can be reached.

Finally, a few soft-hearted audience members shouted towards the stage:

"Master! Although Sun Liang is hateful, he had his reasons; he was trying to fulfill his filial duty. Please... spare him this time! Let him pay back the money, give him a few dozen lashes, and kick him out of the troupe!"

"Yes, troupe leader, one should be forgiving when possible!"

"Human life is at stake!"

The voices pleading for mercy gradually increased.

The troupe leader stood on the stage, his expression shifting, as if he were weighing his options.

Seeing a glimmer of hope, Sun Liang's face lit up with the ecstatic joy of surviving a calamity. He repeatedly bowed to the audience, saying, "Thank you! Thank you, gentlemen! Thank you, living bodhisattva!"

The troupe leader took a deep breath and cupped his hands in a gesture of respect to the audience: "Gentlemen, your kindness is truly appreciated."

"Logically speaking, since everyone has spoken, I, Xie, should give them this face."

His tone suddenly shifted, becoming resolute:

"but!"

"Class rules cannot be changed! Rules of conduct cannot be abolished!"

"Sun Liang has violated a death penalty! According to the rules, he should be subjected to the excruciating punishment of thirty-six cuts, as a warning to others!"

A collective gasp rippled through the audience.

The troupe leader paused, then softened his voice: "However... today, out of consideration for the pleas of all the gentlemen, these thirty-six cuts can be waived."

Hope rekindled in Sun Liang's eyes.

"Give him a quick death!" The troupe leader's voice suddenly turned fierce. "Behead him!"

"What?!" Sun Liang screamed in disbelief.

The audience erupted in uproar.

Pleading for mercy is one thing, but actually witnessing someone being beheaded is another.

The troupe leader said no more and reached out his hand.

The busty woman next to me, out of nowhere, actually handed me a gleaming, gleaming ghost-head dagger!

The troupe leader took the knife, weighed it in his hand, and the blade reflected a dazzling, cold light under the lamplight.

He walked up behind Sun Liang, who was slumped on the ground, and pointed the tip of his knife at the back of his neck.

"Master! No! Master, spare me!"

Sun Liang was terrified, crying and struggling, but was held down firmly by Ma Da and Ma Er.

The troupe leader, however, was in no hurry. He simply gestured repeatedly, indicating the position and angle of the knife, as if searching for the most suitable landing point.

Some timid audience members covered their eyes or turned away.

But many more people craned their necks, watching with a mixture of fear and excitement.

Copper coins and silver coins began to be tossed onto the stage sporadically, mostly begging the troupe leader to spare the lives of the victims.

The troupe leader seemed not to notice, and continued to gesture the name at a leisurely pace.

It wasn't until we reached the second-floor, VIP room number two that Ba Qing's impatient voice rang out, its tone slightly strained:

"What are you dawdling for! Just chop already! You're an eyesore! Chop!"

A silver ingot was thrown out of the private room window, clattering as it landed on the stage and rolled a few times.

The troupe leader looked up, glanced at the second floor, and then looked at the audience.

Without further hesitation, he gripped the hilt of the sword with both hands, let out a low shout, his arm muscles bulged, and he raised the ghost-headed broadsword high, bringing with it a chilling arc of light as he slashed down fiercely towards Sun Liang's neck!