One day, rising early, two men burst into his hut, seized him, and dragged him to the bustling marketplace.

In the street, a butcher was selling meat, with half a hog resting upon his block.

With a mighty shove from the two men, the rogue’s body floated momentarily, then swiftly burrowed into the flesh, becoming one with it.

Presently, the butcher began hacking at the meat. With every swing of the blade, the rogue felt an agony that pierced deep into his very marrow.

Later, an old man from next door came to buy some meat, haggling over the price and picking through the cuts. As the butcher sliced the meat into thin pieces, the rogue’s torment became unbearable—a torture rivaling the lingering death of Ling Chi.

Only when the last of the pork was sold was the rogue finally freed. His spirit drifted out, and he limped his way back to his home.

The sun was already high when he startled awake. His family scolded him: “Why are you sleeping so soundly? It’s so late!” The rogue recounted his entire experience, then summoned the old neighbor, asking him to confirm the exact number of pork slices and the weight he had purchased.

Not a single detail was amiss.

Hearing this, his family was secretly astonished.