Chapter 1752 - The Infanticide Tower
Liu San wanted to descend into the courtyard and inspect the various chambers, but Fifth Sister-in-Law Sun blocked the stairway. "I need to go inside and have a look."
Fifth Sister-in-Law Sun did not budge. With an ingratiating smile, she said, "My lord, this is the Chastity Hall. Even if it were one's own mother and son, boys over seven are forbidden to remain in the compound. These are widows dwelling inside—if your lordship were to enter..." Seeing Liu San's blank expression, she had no choice but to speak plainly. "...it might injure their reputation for chastity."
Only then did Liu San understand why she was blocking him. After a moment's thought, he realized there was no pressing need for a closer inspection. Though conditions here were somewhat better than outside, they weren't much better. Huanghua Temple itself was far too dilapidated, and Puji Hall's administration was chaotic—putting things in order would not be accomplished overnight. There was no hurry.
"Very well. Then have everyone in the courtyard—young and old alike—come out. I wish to meet them."
Fifth Sister-in-Law Sun was inclined to refuse again, but Mao Xiuyu was signaling furiously with his eyes. She sensed it unwise to keep rebuffing this newly arrived Australian. "Please wait a moment, my lord. This servant will summon them at once."
So saying, she picked up a wooden clapper and began to strike it beneath the eaves.
At the dull, mournful sound, women emerged from the various cells: the oldest were white-haired crones with skin wrinkled like dried plums; the youngest still possessed the bloom of maidenhood. Some carried infants in their arms; others led children by the hand. All, regardless of age, wore identical dresses of indigo-dyed cloth. They wore no rouge or powder; a sprig of white in their hair-coils was their sole adornment. One by one, they gathered in the courtyard with downcast eyes, silent.
Not until now did Liu San feel that this place somewhat resembled a charitable institution—at least this courtyard was clean and orderly, and the women, though poor, were not dressed in rags like beggars.
"This is the newly appointed Court Physician," Fifth Sister-in-Law Sun announced when most had assembled. "He has come to conduct an inspection."
The women curtsied unevenly. "Blessings upon you, my lord." Their voices were scattered and faint.
Liu San studied these women who had "vowed to keep their chastity." Some were pale and bloodless, others sallow yellow—likely from years of laboring indoors with scant sunlight. Naturally, none were plump; though not quite skeletal, all looked frail. The children in the courtyard were sallow and thin, their eyes dull, their movements sluggish. Comparing them to the strapping, broad-hipped Fifth Sister-in-Law Sun, it was obvious that the food here was barely sufficient to prevent starvation.
By modern nutritional standards, everyone present would be classified as suffering from chronic malnutrition.
Liu San frowned. "How many meals are provided here each day?"
"In reply to your lordship: two meals a day—one of rice, one of gruel."
"And the children?"
"The same for them." Fifth Sister-in-Law Sun wondered why this "Lord Liu" was so interested in the children.
"What a waste," Liu San sighed. Over a hundred "chaste widows," locked year after year in this living coffin of a courtyard, gazing up at their small square of sky, passing their days at the loom. Such cruelty and waste was simply outrageous. The whole of Hainan was full of strong, hardworking men without wives! It flew in the face of human nature!
He thought of how many such chastity-keeping widows there must be throughout all of Guangzhou Prefecture—indeed, all of Guangdong. This culture of encouraging widow-chastity would need to be cracked down on hard.
Fifth Sister-in-Law Sun had no idea what he found "wasteful." Inwardly, she wondered if this Australian lord had taken a fancy to one of the young widows inside. That absolutely could not be permitted! She began calculating how to dissuade him should he actually attempt such a thing.
Though Fifth Sister-in-Law Sun was ruthless in exploiting the "chaste widows," she held the principle of chastity-keeping higher than Heaven itself. "Better to starve than to lose one's virtue" was scripture to her. In her ideal world, not even a male sparrow should be allowed to alight in this courtyard.
Just as Liu San was pondering how to reform Puji Hall—particularly how to avoid wasting its human resources—a voice suddenly shrieked from the crowd: "Court Physician, my lord! Save me!"
Liu San started. The crowd, which had appeared as still as a stagnant pool, now rippled with motion. A woman pushed her way out and collapsed on her knees at the foot of the stone steps, kowtowing so hard that the flagstones thudded.
Fifth Sister-in-Law Sun was aghast. She leapt down from the steps, seized the woman by the hair, and cursed, "What are you screaming about?!" She tried to drag her away.
But the woman refused to yield. She continued weeping and screaming: "Save me, my lord!"
Liu San sensed something was wrong. He raised a hand and barked, "Don't drag her! Let her speak!" To the woman, he said, "What is it? Tell me everything."
Fifth Sister-in-Law Sun dared not manhandle her further and withdrew to the side. At last, the woman sobbed out her story: her child had fallen ill. Not only had no one in the compound given the child treatment, but before the child had even drawn a final breath, someone had thrown it into the Infanticide Tower behind the temple.
"...Even if there was no medicine, the child was still alive," the woman wailed. "Fifth Sister-in-Law insisted he had smallpox and would spread the plague if left in the compound. She threw him alive into the tower! I beg your lordship, in your great mercy, to save my son!"
When Liu San heard this, he felt his blood rise and his face flush crimson. He glared. "Fifth Sister-in-Law Sun—is this true?!"
Fifth Sister-in-Law Sun had not expected this mild-mannered Australian to transform so suddenly and terrifyingly. Throwing a seriously ill child into the Infanticide Tower was standard practice; no one had ever questioned it before. That this lord would fly into such a rage... She thudded to her knees, voice trembling: "My lord, my lord, this is the compound's custom. Her son had smallpox—he absolutely could not remain in the compound..."
"Bullshit," Liu San roared. "Get up and take me to the Infanticide Tower!"
Fifth Sister-in-Law Sun scrambled up and started to go, then tried to turn back and lock the gate. Seeing Liu San's furious expression—and the cold, menacing looks of the guards—she abandoned any thought of "keeping things proper" and stumbled off to lead the way.
The so-called Infanticide Tower stood just behind Huanghua Temple's back gate. This had once been the temple's garden; now it was a desolate, broken waste—covered in bat droppings, cobwebs, wild wasp nests, even fox tracks. The back gate stood open. Beside it rose the Infanticide Tower.
The tower resembled a miniature pagoda, less than one zhang in height. A small opening in the wall—so low that one had to stoop to enter—served as a door. Before the tower sat a filthy wooden basin.
Mao Xiuyu explained that any children who died in the Hall were cremated here, their ashes placed inside the tower. Commoners whose infants died could also bring them here and leave them in that basin; the Hall would cremate and inter them in the tower.
Even before he reached the tower, Liu San caught the stench of decay—the reek of rotting flesh. He grimaced inwardly and fished a face mask from his pocket, donning it quickly. Glancing down, he saw, barely five or six paces away, a small naked corpse lying face-down in the briar thicket—a child of no more than four or five. The body was bloated; flies swarmed over it.
Scattered about the surrounding thickets, wherever he looked, he could see little bones and skeletal fragments. A tiny, bone-white hand protruded from the grass—judging by its size, the remains of an infant not yet a year old.
Surveying this scene from a horror film, Liu San felt his blood pounding again. He steadied himself against the tower wall, and, voice trembling, pointed at the remains. "What... is the meaning of this?!"
Fifth Sister-in-Law Sun dared not answer. Mao Xiuyu mustered his courage and explained that these were all local children who had died, as well as abandoned bodies picked up from the streets.
"...Most of the time we hire gravediggers to bury them. But those people have no conscience; they don't bother going to the charity cemetery, just dump the remains here and consider the job done."
"And you people have a conscience—so why haven't you buried these children's bones?!" Liu San thundered. "You leave them exposed in the wild! I saw the characters 'Benevolence and Righteousness' hung at the entrance—yet in everything I've seen here, where is even half of either? You've fed your benevolence and righteousness to the dogs!"
Mao Xiuyu dared not speak and stood mute as a winter cicada.
Liu San was still raging when he heard a faint, wavering cry—a baby wailing. He fell silent and listened intently. The sound seemed to come from inside the Infanticide Tower. He pressed his ear to the masonry wall—and now he was certain: a child was crying inside.
He circled around to the tower entrance and was about to duck inside when the squad leader of his guards caught his arm: "Chief, don't go in there. I'll do it! It's too dark inside!"
Liu San, reminded of the danger, paused. "Get me a torch. I'm going in myself."
The squad leader refused to let him go alone, and in the end accompanied him.
The moment they entered, a powerful stench of rot assailed them. Inside, it was not as dark as expected; several small skylights in the top of the pagoda admitted shafts of light, enough to see by without torches.
Liu San saw that the belly of the tower was piled high with row upon row of little clay urns—heaped taller than a man. Many of the lower ones had been crushed and broken. The floor was carpeted inches deep with pottery shards, ash, and bones. Numerous skeletal fragments had clearly never been cremated at all, simply tossed in. Amid this horrifying ossuary, a toddler dressed in a little indigo-blue gown was crying, voice already hoarse and nearly spent. Liu San rushed forward to pick up the child. The squad leader said, "Chief, this child is sick—he might be contagious. Let me carry him."
Liu San made no reply. Cradling the child, he ducked out of the Infanticide Tower. The sunlight outside was fierce. He said to the squad leader, "Give me your cap to shade him."
He used the squad leader's copper-basin cap to shield the child's eyes, lest the sudden transition from darkness to bright light damage them. Looking closely, he saw it was a boy, about a year old. Though thin and sallow, the child was clean—evidently the mother had taken great care of him. Liu San saw no pox-sores on the face; but there were numerous blisters on the small hands and arms, and papules on the scalp. He knew at once: this was not smallpox. It was chickenpox.
Chickenpox was not a serious disease; with proper nursing, it usually resolved on its own. But in this era, children were malnourished, their resistance weak, and high fevers or secondary pneumonia were common—and in the seventeenth century, that was often fatal.
He felt the child's hands and feet—yes, feverish, the temperature quite high. But listening to the cry, it seemed the lungs were not yet infected; treatment should not be too difficult. He commanded: "Let's go! Back to the Chastity Hall!" Then, to Fifth Sister-in-Law Sun: "Prepare a basin of cool water immediately! And boil some rice gruel!"
Fifth Sister-in-Law Sun assented repeatedly and hurried off.
(End of Chapter)