In 2012, a big event happened in China. Pen | fun | pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 ｉｎｆｏ

We will never forget this vintage.

Because this year's Nobel Prize winner in literature is none other than Mo Yan.

The pride of our China! Our Chinese Mo Yan! Our China's "Life and Death Fatigue"!

Various bookstores scrambled to buy Mo Yan's books, and while I was waiting for the bus, I picked up a magazine from the newsstand - the famous interview was no surprise that it was the well-deserved old Mr. Mo Yan. I always remember the evaluation of Mr. Mo Yan in this interview, and the reporter said that Mr. Mo Yan's novel is 'murderous'.

At that time, I had not read Mr. Mo Yan's book, so to be honest, I didn't understand this statement until I opened a novel that Ma Chengcheng bought.

The name of this novel is "Sandalwood Punishment".

This gentle, dignified, and even a hint of graceful name blinded my eyes, so that at the end of the reading, my inner shock was far greater than emotion.

Sure enough, Mr. Mo's book is the most murderous.

Sandalwood punishment is not the most difficult but gentle country, and the beauty has a long time in her arms, but an ancient and wild punishment.

Tie the victim to a wooden plank, and then aim the sandalwood peg under the victim's tailbone, which has removed part of the pants, and ...... Mallet.

Bang, Bang, Bang.

The sandalwood peg is slowly hammered into the victim's body.

It's a long, torturous state, with long, smooth, grease-soaked sandalwood pegs eventually coming out of the victim's mouth or collarbone - but it's far from over.

The tortured will not die immediately, but after a few days of rearing, the internal organs will grow and be solid with the sandalwood pegs - a handful of sandalwood pegs will be pulled out, and the heart, liver, spleen, lungs, and kidneys will be scattered like a shower of rain.

Death and birth are both a cycle, one from being to nothing, one coming out of nothing.

It's embarrassing.

China's penal punishment has a long history and can be regarded as 'world-famous'. But it is not until today that I fully understand that even the ten great tortures of the Manchu Qing Dynasty are only the tip of the iceberg in this long river of history.

The faint blue flames were all attached to the various terracotta figurines.

Dense, countless.

As early as outside the Ghost Gate, I had already seen the exquisite workmanship of the terracotta figurines. This time, my perception was refreshed again.

Have you ever seen the Wax Museum of Horrors?

Those vivid wax figures are like real people with a smile, of course, because the core of this wax figure is a real person.

The terracotta figurines are all naked, but they do not give people the slightest sense of fragrance, and the lifelike hair seems to be windless in the still blue flames.

Closest to me was a series of tortured figurines, petite but clearly an adult female.

The first group.

She was straddled on a square bench, her hands tied, and a short, naked male figurine with a fleshy face stood behind her, holding a long black rod close to her tailbone in one hand and a gavel in the other.

The maid's eyes were closed, her teeth were clenched, and her expression was full of humiliation.

The second group.

The male figurine, whose face was full of flesh, had already hammered the long black rod into the female figurine's body.

The woman's expression was pained, and her eyes were wide open.

Just when I couldn't bear it, but I also guessed that this was the legendary sandalwood punishment, the third group of terracotta figurines suddenly changed their shape.

The figurine turned the black rod in his hand, and the maid's abdomen was ridged with a circle of black slender strips, which became more and more sharp at the outermost end, like a long thorn, and the whole stretched black rod looked like an inverted pine tree, and branches grew horizontally in the body.

The shattered organs hung from the tips of thin black strips, and a few threads of undripped blood seemed to congeale under the flames.

The expression on the maid's face was no longer ordinary pain, her neck stretched to the limit, her mouth opened to occupy half of her head, I never thought that a human being could make such an expression.

The face of the male figurine seemed to be smiling, and there was a faint sense of relief.

The craftsmen who made this series of terracotta figurines seemed to be afraid that the viewer would not understand the structure of the long black stick, and deliberately made a separate one on the side.

The long black rod gradually bloomed at the front of the rear after pressing the mechanism, like an upside-down flower.

An upside-down flower of death.

Blood is its most delicate color, more composed than any color.