You Dare Touch My Granddaughter I'll Send You Straight to the Scaffold

The year I turned sixty, my granddaughter, only fifteen, went to the flower banquet at the Hall residence.

When she came back, she was thrown out through the side gate in a shabby little palanquin.

The pleated skirt she'd worn there was gone, and she was wrapped in a man's overcoat.

More than twenty bite marks and bruises of varying depths covered her fair neck and her bare ankles.

She didn't cry, didn't make a scene. She only soaked herself day and night in the icy well water, scrubbing her skin raw until it festered and bled.

Half a month later, the Hall residence sent someone with fifty taels of silver and a concubine contract.

That very night, my granddaughter swallowed a pair of scissors and died in agony on her bed, lying in a pool of blood.

I went to the Hall residence to demand justice, and a vicious dog tore my throat clean open.

When I opened my eyes again, my granddaughter was cheerfully fixing a crabapple blossom in her hair before the bronze mirror.

"Grandma, the Hall carriage is already waiting at the village entrance. They say I'll get to meet plenty of important people."

Looking at her bright, radiant face, I felt all the blood in my body run backward in an instant.

The next moment, I snatched up the bone cleaver beside the stove and split that brass mirror apart with a single stroke.

Then I turned and braced myself hard against the wooden door, the blade pointed at my own neck.

"If you dare step past this threshold today, you'll have to walk over my dead body first!"

......

My granddaughter shrank back in fright, staring at me in disbelief.

"Grandma, what are you doing?"

"Put the knife down, quicklysomeone's going to get killed."

I gripped the bone cleaver tight, my hands shaking violently with sheer terror and rage.

The sight of her from my past life, thrown out wrapped in a tattered straw mat, stabbed at my brain like an awl.

"Be good. Go back inside."

"We're not going to this flower banquet."

My granddaughter's eyes reddened with distress, and she gathered up her skirt, meaning to step forward and wrest the knife away.

"Grandma, that's a favor from the Hall residence. I was the only one in the whole village to get an invitation."

"They say if you go just once, you get two taels of silver as a reward."

"With that money, you could buy medicine for your leg."

The moment I heard the words "Hall residence," my stomach churned.

That was no favor at all.

That was a den of monsters that ate people and didn't spit out the bones.

Just then, the already ramshackle wooden door was kicked violently open from outside.

"Well now, what kind of show is this?"

Alison Lambert, the Hall residence's steward, stepped over the threshold, pinching a gilded, embossed invitation card between her fingers.

She looked me up and down, her face full of contempt.

"Old woman, don't refuse a kindness when it's offered."

"The Hall carriages have been waiting at the village entrance for half an hour now. Is Young Lord Hall's flower banquet something dirt-poor peasants like you get to hold up?"

I glared at Alison Lambert.

A gust of wind blew past, and that cloying sweet scent of hers drove straight up my nose.

That smell.

When my granddaughter was thrown back in my past life, the man's overcoat wrapped around her had carried this very scent.

My eyes went red in an instant.

"What damned flower banquet."

"That's plainly a whorehouse for breeding that beast of a young lord of yours."

Alison Lambert's face changed at once, and she began cursing in a shrill voice.

"You old thing, are you sick of living?"

"You dare slander the Hall residence? See if I don't rip your mouth apart."

I didn't hesitate for a second.

I flung the bone cleaver down, spun around, and hoisted the slop bucket that had been fermenting three days by the stove.

Sour, reeking slop water and rotten vegetable leaves and all, I flung it right over Alison Lambert's head and face.

It caught her square on, foul water dripping down from her oil-slicked bun.

She wiped at her face in a fury, stamping her feet and shrieking.

"Rebellion! Rebellion!"

"Somebody, beat this old wretch to death for me!"

My granddaughter was scared out of her wits by the scene.

She had never seen the lofty steward of the Hall residence suffer such humiliation.

She threw herself at me and clutched my arm hard.

"Grandma, have you lost your mind?"

"Those are people from the Hall residence. You'll bring ruin on the whole village."

I tried to pry her hands loose.

"Foolish girl, let go."

"They'll take your life."

My granddaughter was crying so hard she could barely breathe, dragging at me and refusing to let go.

"Grandma, please stop this. I'll kowtow to the steward and admit my fault."

"I'll go, all right? I'll go."

Footsteps suddenly came from beyond the door, and four Hall retainers rushed in.

They carried thick wooden clubs, with hemp ropes hanging at their waists.

Alison Lambert pointed at me, grinding her teeth.

"Break this old thing's legs."

"Bag that girl up and haul her away. Young Lord Hall is waiting to sample something fresh."

Two of the retainers came straight at me.

The other two, seizing the moment while my granddaughter clung to me, pulled out a black burlap sack.

From head to foot, they yanked her down into it in one motion.

My granddaughter's cries were smothered inside the sack.

They dragged her out like they were hauling a beast.

"Let her go."

My eyes split with fury. I snatched the bone cleaver off the ground again and lunged like a madwoman, hacking wildly.

The blade bit into one retainer's arm.

He screamed and staggered back, clutching it.

Another retainer's eyes turned savage, and he raised a thick-soled boot and slammed it hard into my chest.

My whole body was sent flying.

The back of my head cracked hard against the bluestone slab in the yard.

Everything went black in an instant, and a bloody-sweet taste welled up in my throat.

From inside the sack came my granddaughter's faint sobbing, and Alison Lambert spat out a mouthful of bloody spittle.

"Wretched, unlucky old thing. Lock the gate and let her wait for death in there."

The courtyard gate slammed shut.

I lay on the cold ground, my vision so blurred that all I could see was a wash of blood-red.

The searing pain in my chest made even breathing feel like my organs were tearing apart.

No. I can't fall asleep.

I bit down hard until my tongue bled, forcing myself to hold on to that last thread of clarity.

I rolled over and crawled, inch by inch, toward the courtyard wall.

I tore off the tattered coarse-cloth apron I was wearing.

My hands trembled as I bound the strip of cloth tight around my bleeding forehead.

At the village entrance, Leslie Finch the butcher's mule was tied to the old locust tree.

I stumbled over and yanked the reins loose.

Leslie chased out of the house after me.

"Old Mrs. Swanson, where are you off to?"

I paid him no mind at all and hauled myself up onto the mule cart.

I raised the willow switch in my hand and lashed it desperately across the mule's back.

The cart tore down the pitted dirt road, jolting so hard it nearly shook apart.

The gale drove sand and dust mercilessly into my throat.

My windpipe felt as if it had been scraped with a razor.

I coughed up a big mouthful of blood that stained the front of my shirt.

It was a full thirty li from the village to the Hall residence on the outskirts of Highcourt.

This time, I couldn't be late.

When the cart reached the Hall residence's secluded side gate, the mule's front legs buckled and it dropped heavily to its knees, foaming at the mouth.

I leaped down from the cart shaft and gripped the dull-edged bone cleaver in my hand.

The side gate stood ajar.

Two gate servants were huddled in the shadow of the gatehouse, tossing a few bits of silver back and forth in their hands.

"The fresh goods Steward Lambert brought in today is a real looker."

"Young Lord Hall likes them not yet grown."

"Once the young lord's had his fill and passes her down, us brothers can get a taste too."

The two of them let out a sickening, filthy laugh.

I gritted my teeth and rushed up the steps in a few strides.

I swung the flat back of the bone cleaver, using the momentum to strike left and right.

The back of the blade slammed squarely into both servants' mouths.

Before they could even scream, their front teeth shattered on the spot, and they collapsed to the ground with blood filling their mouths.

I kicked the half-open side gate wide and stormed into the Hall residence.

The rear grounds of the Hall residence were vast, thick with rockeries.

Following my memories from my past life, I felt my way to the abandoned underground icehouse.

The icehouse's iron door was half open.

Down the slick stone steps, a chill mixed with a nauseating stench of rot hit me full in the face.

Torches were fixed in the walls all around, their light dim.

The walls were hung with barbed iron whips and clamping rods.

Every one of them was crusted with dark red scabs of blood.

My heart lodged in my throat.

In the center of the icehouse stood a huge iron cage.

Millie was locked inside.

The pleated skirt she'd worn when she left had been torn into rags.

Her hands were hauled high by rough hemp rope, her toes barely touching the ground.

Her fair ankles had been rubbed raw by the iron shackles, and blood dripped drop by drop onto the ice.

Her eyes were squeezed shut, her whole body shaking uncontrollably, a wad of rag stuffed in her mouth so she couldn't make a sound.

Outside the iron cage.

Karl Hall stood in a loose undergarment, his chest bared.

He gripped a red-hot branding iron and let out a stomach-turning, crazed laugh.

"Cry. I love hearing you lowborn wretches beg for mercy."

"The more you cry, the more it excites me."

Branding iron in hand, he stepped closer and closer to Millie's thigh.

In the shadows around the icehouse stood more than a dozen armored guards holding steel blades.

I drew a deep breath and locked my eyes on the young lord's right hand, the one holding the branding iron.

I burst out of the shadows.

No hesitation, no shout.

I threw my whole body weight behind the blade.

Riding the momentum of the downward swing, I chopped hard into Young Lord Hall's right wrist bone, the hand still gripping the branding iron.

The blade sank deep into bone.

Young Lord Hall let out a bloodcurdling scream, like a pig at slaughter.

The red-hot branding iron flew from his hand and landed squarely on the bare top of his foot.

Clutching his spurting wrist, he collapsed onto the ice, rolling around wildly and wailing in agony.

"My hand, my hand!"

Only then did the dozen or so armored guards snap out of it.

In an instant they had me surrounded.

I wrenched the bone cleaver free and held it in front of the iron cage.

One of the guards swung the flat of his blade and slammed it hard across my back.

A sweet taste rose in my throat, and I pitched forward.

Another guard kicked me in the knee.

My kneecap cracked with a sharp snap as I dropped hard onto the rough ice.

The excruciating pain sent black waves rolling across my vision.

Right after, another heavy blow landed on my ribs.

Hanging in the iron cage, my granddaughter finally spat out the rag in her mouth.

Watching me fall into a pool of blood, the fear in her eyes was instantly replaced by madness.

She thrashed desperately, and the hemp rope around her wrist snapped loose at one end.

Using the force of her drop, she clamped her teeth down hard on the inner thigh of Young Lord Hall as he rolled on the ground.

He was already in so much pain he was near to blacking out, and this made his scream splinter apart.

She refused to let go, tearing a big chunk of bloody flesh straight off his leg.

"You bitch, you mad dog!"

Young Lord Hall roared hysterically.

"Chop them to pieces for me!"

"Hack this grandmother and granddaughter into mincemeat for me!"

The guards raised their steel blades, the edges glinting with a cold, cruel light in the firelight.

Flat on the ground, I strained with everything I had to crawl toward my granddaughter.

But my broken leg had no strength left in it, and at that razor's edge of a moment

The heavy icehouse door overhead was suddenly smashed to splinters by a hammer blow.

Everyone looked up in terror.

A tall figure in a dark red flying-fish robe leaped down.

The embroidered saber in his hand sliced clean through the thick hemp rope holding my granddaughter.

She dropped, all her strength gone, and the man caught her steadily in one arm.

He turned, the hidden unicorn pattern on his flying-fish robe flickering in and out of view in the firelight.

It was the Commander of the Enforcement Bureau, Lord Mason.

His eyes were cold as ice as he surveyed the wreckage of the icehouse.

"Enforcement Bureau business."

"Anyone who dares to lift a blade will be killed on the spot."

The guards exchanged glances, their hands trembling on their weapons.

Young Lord Hall clutched his broken wrist, glaring at Lord Mason through gritted teeth.

"Ferris Mason."

"How dare you break into the Hall residence? This is the Grand Duchess's private manor."

Lord Mason didn't even spare him a glance.

He bent down and gently laid my granddaughter on a clean felt mat.

Then he turned to me, his voice low.

"Old Mrs. Swanson, you've suffered."

I held on to a single breath, staring hard at Young Lord Hall.

Before I could get a word out, a rush of chaotic, heavy footsteps suddenly came from outside the icehouse.

Surrounded by eight maids, Grand Duchess Rosalind slowly descended the stone steps of the underground icehouse.

She was draped in a luxurious white fox fur, its hem sweeping across the bloodstains on the floor, and her brows furrowed in disgust.

"What's all this noise in the middle of the night?"

When she saw the heir lying in a pool of blood with his wrist broken, her face went ashen in an instant.

"My son."

Grand Duchess Rosalind shrieked and strode forward.

She didn't spare Lord Mason a single glance, pointing straight at me, her finger trembling faintly.

"Where did these troublemakers come from, daring to break into the Hall residence and try to assassinate my son?"

"Guards."

"Bring the heavy rods and beat these two lowly wenches to death on the spot, then throw them out to feed the dogs."

Sword in hand, Lord Mason stepped forward and planted himself firmly in front of me.

"Your Highness, Grand Duchess."

"The Enforcement Bureau received a secret report and is conducting a full investigation into the Hall estate abducting women from decent families."

"No one may obstruct this case. Anyone who does will be charged with interfering in official duty."

Grand Duchess Rosalind let out a cold laugh, her eyes full of contempt.

"The Enforcement Bureau?"

"Ferris Mason, you're nothing but a dog my imperial brother keeps. How dare you bark in my presence?"

The moment she finished speaking, hundreds of heavily armed private soldiers suddenly poured into the outer grounds of the Hall residence.

Dressed in matching black armor and wielding spears, they surrounded the icehouse in an instant, sealing it off completely.

The dozen or so Imperial Guards Lord Mason had brought were outnumbered in the end.

The private army disarmed them by force and pinned them to the ground.

The air inside the icehouse was oppressive beyond bearing.

Grand Duchess Rosalind yanked the sword from the guard beside her.

She leveled its tip straight at Millie's pale, blood-smeared face.

Twisting black into white, her tone as vicious as could be.

"Abducting decent women? What nonsense."

"It's plainly this lowly village girl, greedy for the wealth and glory of the Hall estate."

"She loosened her own clothes and ran to my son to seduce him."

"My son refused, so you pack of troublemakers held a grudge and struck to kill."

Millie shook all over with rage, tears welling in her eyes.

"You're lying."

"You were the ones who seized me by force."

Grand Duchess Rosalind gave a cold snort and pushed the sword tip forward half an inch.

"Still talking tough with death right in front of you."

"Even if I kill every one of you today, no one would dare say a single word against it."

I looked at Grand Duchess Rosalind's haughty face.

Listening to her vicious words that turned black into white.

The rage in my chest nearly burned my reason to ash.

Dragging my broken, useless leg, I crawled forward little by little.

Blood left long streaks across the ice.

I crawled to Lord Mason's side and, from inside my close-fitting coarse cloth jacket, pulled out a small square wrapped in layers of oiled paper.

With my bloodied fingers, I tore the oiled paper open.