Shang couldn’t bear to watch. A group of a dozen elders were huddled around the Headmaster and Xiao, whispering fiercely. From the growing look of desperation on Xiao’s face, Shang could guess at the direction of the discussion.

"This is insane," Shang muttered.

"Keep your voice down," YiHua hissed. "Really, what did they expect?"

Shang frowned. "'A punishment commensurate with the crime.' How is illegal trade punishable by death?"

"Because they said so." At Shang's expression she added, "I'm not being an ass, that's the actual answer. They decide the laws and the punishments. It's not our job to question it. The villages and towns submit to the sect and the sects submit to the Yong Matriarch and she submits to the Empire."

Xin shook his head in disgust. "It's not fair, but she's right. They knew the repercussions of illegal artifact trade. Actions have consequences."

Shang's mouth was slightly agape at their easy acceptance of this whole charade. Tora Aran Kei pretended this was about justice, but this was nothing of the sort. He was just a bully, throwing around his weight just because he could.

"Don't look at us like that Shang," YiHua sighed. "Of course I hate it, but what are we supposed to do?"

Shang gritted his teeth in frustration. Xiao's face was ashen as he was pushed in front of the sect leader. "We've made a decision," Master Elder Zuang began. "Since these crimes took place without our knowledge, we choose to only punish those responsible." They shoved Xiao and the Headmaster to their knees.

"You cowards," the Headmaster growled. Shang had to agree. They must have known this was happening in the background. They maybe even endorsed it.

"Very well. We will proceed with the execution. Does he have a wife?" Aran asked casually. Shang's blood froze at the question. There was a struggle among the bystanders as a woman was pushed forward. Her face was streaked with tears, but she willingly knelt next to her husband and son, already resigned to her fate. Behind her, Fang's voice rang out in protest. She was struggling against the crowd but she was no match against the will of the many.

Shang was surprised at Xin's hand on his shoulder, holding him back. He hadn't realized he'd taken a step forward.

Fang's face was red with anger, but that expression shifted to desperation as her arms were tied behind her back. A few paces from them, four posts were being erected, each taller than a man. They were making a makeshift gallow. This wasn't going to be an easy execution, they were going to be hanged.

"You can't be serious," Shang said. He must have been pretty loud because all eyes were now on him. Xin's grip on his shoulder was painful, but he ignored it. Their attention just made him bolder. "Fang and her mother had nothing to do with it."

Shang didn't look away when his eyes met irises of pure gold. He wasn't even the one to break eye contact. The disciples moved to correct Shang for his interruption, but they stopped at a gesture from Aran.

"The rules are clear. The whole family must die. They are of the same blood. Therefore, they share in their shame and punishment." Aran said.

"So do the rest of us. We all share blood." Shang said. Disgruntled murmurs from the onlookers erupted at that.

Aran's face twisted in a terrible smile. "That is true,” he drawled. “So what would you suggest?"

Shang's heart beat against his ribs as he considered his options. "Shang, don't. Be. Stupid." YiHua's voice didn't disguise her panic. "Please," she begged.

His gaze locked with Fang's. He could almost feel the turmoil roiling through her. Unlike her mother, she still believed there was a way for her to be saved. She looked like she wanted to fight. To scream. As they stared at each other, something inside her broke. Her brows drew together and her mouth opened in a silent cry. She looked straight into him as she shook her head, mouthing one word. Don't.

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Shang wanted to laugh. The countless hours of practice. His mother’s tedious sewing of his costume. What had it all been for? This man did not care about his silly little dance, and he was delusional to think he ever would. Before the strength of this man, he had never felt more broken. It was ridiculous to believe that he could stand up to him, even if he wasn’t a cripple. The difference was, if he wasn’t a cripple, he would at least have hope that one day he could. Shang knew there was no hope for him, not even the dream of revenge to entertain.

Shang looked down at his hands. They were the roughest parts of him, calloused from the sword. He never realized how much they’d changed in recent years. His fingers were long and his palms wide. These were the hands of a man, not a boy. He clenched and unclenched them. Strange how little he’d appreciated them,

“My hands,” Shang said. “If the offer is still there. I would be willing to share the punishment if it means those two keep their lives.”

“My, my, what a brave boy,” Aran said, his face finally lit with interest. He considered Shang for a long moment. “Sacrificing oneself for their betters is the righteous path and should be celebrated. So, I accept. Your two hands for these two. ”

Shang’s stomach turned, relieved and terrified at the same time.

“No,” Xin stepped in front of Shang, blocking his field of vision completely. “You can’t.”

“I can’t?”

Xin stood his ground. “If you hurt Shang, I won’t come with you to the sect.” His voice was steady despite his trembling.

After a second YiHua stood beside him. “Me too. If you hurt Shang, we’re both refusing recruitment.”

Shang could hear Aran’s soft steps as he walked towards them. He walked close enough that Shang could smell the faint scent of grass and musk wafting from him. The air around him tingled, electric with his aura.

“What makes you think you had a choice?” Each word was enunciated with a chilling slowness. “Not even seconds in my sect, and you think you can threaten me?” Without warning Xin and YiHua collapsed, ground into the earth by the sheer weight of his spirit. “It seems like you both require an introductory lesson. Just so we’re on the same page.”

Aran stepped over YiHua and Xin as they regained some semblance of function in their limbs. “Kill the Headmaster and his son. No need for theatrics, just get it over and done.”

Two disciples stepped forward, their movements too fast to see clearly. Shang didn’t even have time to scream before Xiao’s head rolled free from his body. Shang’s first thought was of surprise at the lack of blood. Xiao’s body toppled separate from his head followed soon after by his father’s. There was no blood splatter, only neat tidy body parts.

“And the boy.” It took Shang far too long to register that he was the boy Aran was referring to. “Cut off his head.”

He could hear shouts of protest but they were distant, drowned out by the whooshing in his ears. A dark figure walked towards him. Shang was struck by just how young he looked. He looked only a few years older than him. Shang wondered if there was pity in the disciple’s face. He couldn’t tell.

He seemed to walk towards him with an agonizing slowness. Closer and closer. His hands, sheathed in inky black, reached for his neck. Almost touching. Shang imagined he could feel the kiss of damp cold on his neck.

The cold never came. Instead, his mother stood in front of him. How had she gotten there? The disciple was on the ground, groaning. How had he gotten there?

“Are you alright?” ChuHua’s soothing voice wrapped around him.

He only nodded, dumbly, in response.

A sharp sound that may have been a laugh made Shang turn. Aran’s handsome face was twisted in a grotesque smile. “This village is just one surprise after another.” Shang blinked and he disappeared. Shang realized Aran was standing right beside him only when he spoke. “I think I’m quite done with surprises now.”

Shang’s whole world went black. It didn’t last for more than a second. When the world returned, even the light of the stars was blinding. Shang couldn’t understand what he was seeing. Aran wasn’t next to him, but neither was his mother. On the ground, nestled on top of a headless torso was the disembodied head of a woman with a heart-shaped face and long silky black hair. Her eyes were closed and her expression serene.

Suddenly, his father was there, hunched over the body, keening like an animal being skinned alive.

“Shut him up.”

With a kick and a crack, the sound ceased. Shang could see Aran now at the corner of his vision. A man stood in front of him, blocking his path. “That’s enough Aran. This much I can accept. A trade in punishment has been made for the crimes,” the man said.

The wind was still and the courtyard was silent. Shang didn’t know how long he stood there before he realized he was alone. He knelt down so he could run his hands through the woman’s silky hair. It felt so familiar, but also strangely cold. His father's twitched, his eyes rolling under his eyelids. He knew he should try and help, but he just didn't know how. So he just sat, stroking her hair.

The sound of flapping wings drew his attention to the sky. A large crow flew low on the horizon, its body a dark silhouette against the rising sun.