In a narrow room next to the relay station’s kitchen, the stench of cooking fires, food, and slop water mingled together, seeping through the walls and permeating the space.

As soon as the youth A’Jiu stepped inside, he immediately raised his hand to cover his nose and mouth, coughing in disgust.

Besides A’Fu who had run in earlier, there was also a fourteen or fifteen-year-old girl standing in the cramped room. She wore the same kind of shabby padded clothing, had a round face and large eyes, and looked somewhat dull-witted. She still held a ladle in her hand—clearly she had been helping in the kitchen next door.

“Mother, Mother.” A’Fu knelt before a makeshift bed board, urgently calling to the woman lying there. “There are military gentlemen going to where Father is, Mother.”

The woman seemed to be in a deep sleep. Called repeatedly, she slowly awakened. Her face was sallow yellow, making her look very aged, her breath as faint as gossamer. Upon waking, she first burst into a fit of urgent coughing.

A’Fu and the girl holding the ladle frantically both fed her water and patted her back to soothe her.

“Military sir.” This coughing actually made the woman more alert as she looked toward those standing at the door—

The room was too small to fit the military men inside, and the youth A’Jiu, disgusted by the smell after entering, had retreated back outside.

The woman asked in a trembling voice: “Are you going to Daqing Mountain Camp?”

The youth A’Jiu, covering his nose and mouth, his voice muffled, said: “No, but we’re going that way. What’s your husband’s name, how old is he, under whose command does he serve—”

He was actually asking the same questions again. A’Fu, guarding by the bedside, looked over—puzzled but also timid.

Standing at the very back to avoid suspicion, the station master chuckled inwardly. Cross-checking the testimony!

The Yang family woman answered breathlessly, in more detail than A’Fu had said, even mentioning Yang Dachun’s birth date. She fumbled around at her side: “This servant made him a pair of shoes that must be taken to him.”

A’Fu quickly pulled out a bundle from under the bedding: “Mother, it’s here.”

This time the youth A’Jiu didn’t ask to inspect the shoes. His phoenix eyes looked down at the woman from above.

“Let’s get the ugly words out front—our military duties are urgent, we travel fast, and the journey is hard. We can’t babysit your children,” he said in an indifferent voice. “When the time comes, if they can keep up, they’ll follow. If they can’t keep up, we won’t concern ourselves with them.”

The Yang family woman propped herself against the bed board to kowtow to him: “Military sir, take them as far as you can. They’ll at least be closer to their father, and he can find them more quickly. Otherwise, left in this distant place, by the time he searches for them, who knows if they’ll still be alive or not. A’Le, A’Fu, quickly kowtow to the military gentlemen—”

After saying so much in one breath, the woman had no strength left to kowtow and began coughing again.

A’Fu knelt down before the military gentlemen. The girl A’Le, holding the large ladle, also knelt down, kowtowing while watching over the woman.

“Mother, my sister and I will definitely keep up, will definitely see Father as quickly as possible,” A’Fu gripped the woman’s hand and cried. “Have Father come get you.”

The woman coughed and the girls cried. Outside the door, the courier soldiers who had wives and children felt moved, but for the youth A’Jiu, he didn’t find the scene tragic or pitiful—he only felt the smell was even more suffocating, and he took another step backward.

“That’s settled then. Get yourselves ready. We’re not staying overnight. After a midday rest, we’ll set out,” he said.

So they would be separated immediately. One parting and they might very likely never see each other again. The woman became even more grief-stricken.

“Military sir.” The Yang family woman addressed the military men outside the door again, slightly raising her hand, her frail face utterly desolate. “If you are fortunate enough to see my husband, tell him that this servant has no regrets about becoming his wife, even unto death.”

Truly moving heaven and earth—this couple must have a very good relationship. The eyes of several courier soldiers were about to turn red, but the youth A’Jiu only frowned more deeply, staring at the woman—

“Mother—” A’Fu threw herself onto the woman, crying in great sorrow, interrupting the woman’s lament.

The pain of husband and wife being separated by life and death, and the even greater pain of children being separated from their mother by life and death—the courier soldiers truly couldn’t bear to watch anymore and hurriedly prepared to leave. Seeing the youth A’Jiu still staring, they pulled him along. After all, he was young, hadn’t experienced life and death, didn’t know the suffering of the world, treating others’ tragedy as entertainment.

“With two more people, we need to carefully select the horses,” Zhang the courier soldier gave the order.

He looked again at the weeping mother and daughters. The older sister called A’Le had also moved to the bedside, silently shedding tears. Though he couldn’t bear it, he still had to remind them:

“Get yourselves ready as quickly as possible. Our schedule is fixed—we can’t linger long.”

A’Fu answered yes through her tears.

The youth A’Jiu said nothing more, withdrew his gaze, and followed the others away.

The sobbing and weeping in the cramped room gradually subsided, slowly becoming silent.

“Sister, let’s pack our things,” A’Fu said, wiping away her tears.

The girl A’Le on the side put down her ladle somewhat frantically, wanting to pack but not knowing what to pack.

“Just bring two sets of clothes to change into,” A’Fu said softly. “Leave everything else for Mother.”

The older sister agreed and went to the side to pack a bundle.

The woman lay in bed, her breath as faint as gossamer: “Don’t leave anything for me. Take it all with you. I won’t need it anymore…” As she spoke, tears flowed down. Looking at the girls, her eyes were full of reluctance, grief, and self-blame. “You must take good care of yourselves.”

A’Fu’s small hand held hers, tears sliding down her cheeks, her dark eyes looking at the woman: “Why did you say that extra sentence just now?”

The woman’s expression stiffened. Instinctively, she forced out a trace of a smile. Tears flowing from her eyes while forcing a smile made her expression somewhat strange and comical.

“I’m about to die, missing your father, looking back on the past—” she murmured, looking at the girl. “It’s also feelings arising, unable to control my emotions, moving heaven and earth—”

A’Fu’s voice was flat: “A person about to die—where do uncontrollable emotions come from!”

The woman seemed to grow interested: “A’Fu, you’re still young, you don’t understand this. These feelings—”

“Enough.” A’Fu’s voice deepened as she rebuked her.

She was only twelve or thirteen years old, her voice still childish, yet it made the woman immediately close her mouth and turn her gaze away, not daring to look into the girl’s eyes.

The girl’s eyes were somewhat frightening. At this moment, they weren’t filled with tears, no longer obscured by lowered long lashes, dark and deep as a well.

An eerie silence fell beside the bed.

In the cramped room, the other girl packing the bundle by the bed acted as if she had neither heard nor seen anything, only keeping her head lowered as she tied the bundle.

“A’Fu—” The station master’s voice called from outside the door.

A’Fu immediately turned her head, her large dark eyes covered with tears: “Master Xu—”

The station master stepped inside with a smile on his face: “You finally have somewhere to go. I’ll have them select a docile horse for you.”

A’Fu bowed deeply to the station master: “Thank you, Master Xu. Master Xu’s great kindness and virtue.”

The girl spoke incoherently, not knowing how to speak properly, only able to repeat this one phrase over and over.

The other girl knew only how to bow in salute.

It was the woman in bed who struggled to sit up: “Master Xu’s great kindness and virtue—this servant will repay it in the next life by holding a ring in her mouth or tying grass.”

The station master told her to lie back down: “It’s just a small matter. I haven’t really helped much. You’re fortunate in your misfortune to have so quickly encountered courier soldiers who happen to be going to the border commanderies.” He also instructed the two girls: “Following courier soldiers on the road is very hard. You must persevere, but if you truly cannot persevere, don’t force yourselves. Losing your lives would make all the suffering meaningless. Only by staying alive will you have a chance to see your father.”

A’Fu’s tears fell like rain as she bowed her head, pressing it against her hands: “I will definitely stay alive. I must see Father.”