Foster Son, Don’t Be So Crazy (21)

"Wait."

Song Jia's clear voice echoed in the chamber, successfully getting the attention of all the people there.

She raised a gloved hand, slightly tilting the feathered hat that hid the upper half of her face in shadow.

"I request a trial by ordeal," she said.

In the modern judicial system, the innocence or guilt of an accused may be established based on the evidence brought against him or her. In ancient and medieval societies, however, a different way of determining a person's innocence or guilt was used. This was called the 'trial by ordeal'.

This accused had to do something dangerous or even life-threatening, and if he survived the ordeal, he would be proclaimed innocent. If guilty, the individual would perish. The intention of the trial by ordeal was to leave the judgment of an accused in the hands of a higher force, believing that God would intervene and protect an innocent person during a trial by ordeal, while punishing a guilty individual.

The fat woman's eyes brightened.

"Right, right...I, I, too, request a trial by ordeal!"

Hmph, the Magistrate might treat this only as a homicide, but there is still a way to make you die for harming my child!

The fat woman glared viciously at Nian Shou.

The Magistrate looked at Song Jia.

"Madam, only those with a close relationship to either the suspect or the victim may participate in the hearing. If you have no business here, I suggest you leave the judicial court."

Song Jia pursed her lips and used a gloved finger to point at Nian Shou.

"But I do have a relationship with him though."

She lifted up her skirts and slowly walked towards the podium. Subtly, gradually, the aura around her changed. Her strides lengthened, and Song Jia placed one foot in front of the other as if she walking down on a narrow line. Hips swinging, she approached the tightly bound Nian Shou, her mouth turned up slightly at the corners.

She patted his cheek.

"This man...is my husband."

Ignoring his dumbfounded look, she turned around to face the merchant woman.

"I believe that my husband is innocent and is being falsely accused. We have been living together for over five years, so how could I not know his true character? In fact..."

Song Jia's eyes shifted to the young woman standing next to her mother.

"A little bird told me that the third miss of your family even had the audacity to solicit him to become one of her concubines. But because of his loyalty to me, he rejected her. My husband being falsely accused of homicide, isn't this simply letting him carry the dirty wok [1] so that your daughter can vent out her anger?"

Hearing Song Jia's words, the young woman anxiously tugged at her mother's skirts. The fat woman's face turned even redder.

"Lies!" she spat out.

"Lies?" repeated Song Jia. "Is it a lie that he is my husband? We even have a son. Darling, go and tell her."

She touched his arm affectionately.

Nian Shou's eyes twitched. How could this girl lie so much with a straight face?

"Yes, I...am her husband," he forced out.

After saying this, involuntarily or not, his eyes shifted to their so-called 'son.'

Just as expected. Xiang Feng's expression was frosty, and frustration seemed to overflow from his dark eyes. Even his hands were clenched into fists.

Nian Shou sighed. After spending three years with Song Jia, he also began to understand a bit of her personality. This woman, it wasn't that she was too dense, but it was because she had segregated people into neat boxes inside her mind. Those who were her friends, would forever stay as her friends. Likewise, Xiang Feng whom she treated as her son would forever stay as her 'son.'

Unless it was said outright to her, the people she categorized into these boxes would never be stripped of their label forever. Nian Shou thought that it seemed like Song Jia was acting out a play, and the rest of them were scripted characters of a well-known story. She didn't expect them to act in ways that were not written, so she went along with the narrative of the story that she knew.

"That's why, I request a trial by ordeal. Let the heavens decide whether my husband bore ill will to your family's young master or not," continued Song Jia.

The Magistrate regarded Song Jia. From head to toe, there was not an inch of clothing that didn't look expensive on her. In fact, she had seen the same dress that Song Jia was wearing being displayed inside a very popular clothing store in the capital. Even though she also liked it, she did not have enough money to buy it. It looked understated, but the design was truly one of a kind. It said something of the background of the wearer if she could pick such a tasteful dress.

There was also Song Jia's manners and posture. Even though there was a tinge of arrogance from the way she spoke, was it not simply because she was was born from a superior family? Unlike the crude merchant madam that kept arguing without saving face, this young woman claiming to be the suspect's wife was more in line of a young lady coming from a noble family.

"Alright, we'll do a trial by ordeal," the Magistrate finally said.

Since the two opposing parties were in agreement, what else could she do? She was originally planning to give her friend who came to the capital a social visit, but it seemed that she had to resign herself into giving her leisure afternoon up.

Song Jia spoke before the merchant lady could beat her to it.

"Let's do a trial of ordeal by fire."

[1] scapegoat or someone who takes the blame for others