Time flies like an arrow. A day and night is merely the closing and opening of eyes; a midday rest is almost just the blink of an eye.

Outside the relay station, people came and went—some newly arriving to rest, others setting out again on their journeys.

The youth A’Jiu’s group had gained two more people and four more horses, making their assembly outside the relay station even more boisterous.

The two girls had also donned hats and wrapped scarves around themselves, wearing thick padded clothing and carrying small bundles on their backs, round and plump like balls.

They bowed to the station master once more in farewell.

The station master waved his hand: “Alright, alright, hurry and go. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of your mother.”

The two girls shed tears, looking toward the interior of the relay station. Due to her physical condition, the woman couldn’t come out to see them off. They lingered without moving.

This parting—mother and daughters would likely never see each other again.

Though the several courier soldiers had mounted their horses, they couldn’t bear to rush them.

“Hey.” The only one who could bear to rush them was A’Jiu. His hat and scarf covered his face, revealing a pair of phoenix eyes, the corners of his brows radiating coldness. “Are you going or not? Otherwise, you might as well stay here and keep your mother company.”

This young man had an extremely perverse temper—he could turn hostile at the drop of a hat. The station master quickly pushed the two girls toward the horses: “Hurry and go, hurry and go. The sooner you leave, the sooner you’ll find your father and have him come back quickly to see your mother.”

The two girls mounted their horses without further hesitation, their movements very steady—clearly they truly knew how to ride.

A’Jiu withdrew his gaze and spurred his horse: “Hyah!” He took the lead forward.

The other courier soldiers also spurred their horses. The two girls, swept up among them, also galloped along with clip-clop sounds, disappearing from view in the blink of an eye.

The station master stood outside the gate watching them off, his expression quite emotional.

“Sir, you’ve done another good deed,” a station attendant came forward to flatter him.

A good deed? The station master patted his belly—his plump belly that could barely be secured by his belt. Hanging from the belt were two full money pouches—this was the reward for being a good person.

“Good person.” The woman had said from her bed in a breath as faint as gossamer, thanking him. “If you accept this money, it’s doing a good deed. Otherwise, when I die and my two children also lose their lives, what use would keeping this money be? Better to give it up and use it to buy my two children a path to survival. As long as they’re sent to their father, even without money, they can survive.”

He had accepted money to do the job—honest dealings with young and old alike. He had found a path to survival for these two children. When the woman died, he would also have her buried, not allowing her corpse to be exposed in the wilderness. Mm, putting it this way, he truly was a good person.

“Go on, get to work,” the station master said with a chuckle, patting his belly as he turned and ambled back inside.

But early the next morning, the station master’s door was pounded on again.

“What is it? Has that Yang family woman died?” the station master asked, somewhat surprised.

The physician he’d called in had said the Yang family woman wouldn’t live much longer. These past few days, she had been clinging to her last breath. Could it be that once her two daughters were sent away, she had set down her heavy burden and her last breath gave out?

“No,” the station attendant said. “The Yang family woman has hired a cart and says she’s leaving.”

……

……

A donkey cart stopped in the rear courtyard. The Yang family woman, wrapped in her tattered padded clothing, half-reclined inside.

“What are you doing?” the station master asked in confusion. “In this freezing cold weather, and with your illness so severe, how can you travel?”

The Yang family woman smiled weakly: “Master Xu, I still have one breath left. I want to return to my hometown. Falling leaves return to their roots—I don’t want to wander and die in a foreign wilderness.”

Is that so? The station master sighed: “Lady Yang, if you rest here, you might still have a chance to see your husband and children.”

Being jostled about on the road would likely cost her life immediately.

The Yang family woman shook her head, her face desolate yet also bearing joy: “As long as they can be reunited, I’ll be at peace. In the future, when they visit my grave, it will be the same.”

Since that was the case, the station master didn’t try to persuade her further. However, if she wanted the money back, truly making him be a good person for nothing—that wouldn’t do.

He touched his belt: “Lady Yang, traveling home requires money for expenses, so—”

Before he could finish, the Yang family woman quickly waved her hand: “I’ve already troubled Master Xu far too much. I cannot let you spend your own money. This servant still has some money for expenses saved up, enough to get home. Someone like me doesn’t need much money anymore—having it would only be a burden.”

Having said this, she collapsed weakly onto the bedding, her expression somewhat tense.

True enough—how could she really give away her entire fortune? This woman must have given those two daughters something to sustain them and kept some for herself. However, he wouldn’t really take all of the woman’s fortune either. Taking half would be acceptable. He wasn’t the type to devour both meat and bones without leaving anything.

The station master said in a kindly manner: “Very well, as the lady wishes. Then, I wish you safe travels.”

The Yang family woman quickly nodded her head against the bedding in thanks.

“Take the lady home properly—it will count as a good deed for you too,” the station master sternly instructed the cart driver. “Don’t mistreat this unfortunate woman, or I’ll never forgive you.”

The cart driver repeatedly agreed. The donkey cart creaked as it departed from the relay station and traveled away along the road.

The station master once again stood outside the relay station watching it leave, stroking his belly. In the blink of an eye, he had sent off mother and two daughters one after another. He could hardly remember how this mother and daughters had arrived—it felt like a dream.

He quickly felt for the money pouch at his waist. Good, good—the money was still there.

Then all was well. It wasn’t just a big dream where he’d worked for nothing.

Horses and carts came and went, the sun rose and set. The Beicao Town relay station repeated its day-to-day bustle. The relay station didn’t always have unfortunate people in distress, and the station master wasn’t always playing the good person. His daily routine mostly involved sitting indoors, rustling through account books, checking income and expenditures and the balance.

Occasionally, when distinguished officials passed through, he didn’t need to attend to them personally. The relay station was constant while officials flowed through—someone who stayed in first-class rooms this time might only be able to afford common sleeping quarters next time.

However, when officials from the local commandery government came, the station master still had to greet them enthusiastically.

Today was overcast, the wind painfully cold against one’s face. Charcoal fires burned in the main hall. A group of runners either sat or stood, cursing about the cold weather and complaining about the poor quality of the liquor here.

Seeing the station master enter, a man in his forties wearing official robes, who had just thrown his sword onto the table where he sat in the center, said: “It’s not that the liquor is poor quality—it’s that old Xu has hidden away the good stuff.”

The runners all pointed at the station master and clamored.

The station master was familiar with them and took no offense, pointing at one of the men: “Cao the Fourth, don’t you know perfectly well where I hide my liquor? Go get it yourself.”

The man called Cao the Fourth wasn’t polite either. He called to several runners and they left in high spirits.

The station master sat down beside the man with the sword: “Supervisor Qi, in this freezing weather, what major matter could require you to leave the prefecture office?”

This Supervisor Qi was not only the superior official in charge of relay stations but, more importantly, was the commandery governor’s brother-in-law. Within the commandery, he wielded great power. To accomplish anything, he only needed to move his fingers—there was absolutely no need for him to travel about in bitter cold weather.

Unless there was a matter or person he couldn’t afford to offend.

He hadn’t heard of any major events in the commandery recently, had he?

Supervisor Qi picked up hot water and drained it in one gulp: “Speaking of this matter, it’s both major and minor.” He set the water bowl down on the table with a thud. “A young lady from the capital has gone missing.”