Time flies like an arrow. A day and night pass in the blink of an eye, and a midday rest feels like just a momentary closing of the eyelids.

Outside the relay station, people came and went—some newly arriving, others resuming their journeys.

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

The two girls had also donned hats and wrapped scarves around their faces. Wearing thick cotton clothes and carrying small bundles on their backs, they looked round and plump like balls.

They bowed once more to the station manager to bid farewell.

The station manager waved his hand: “Alright, alright, get going now. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of your mother.”

The two girls lowered their heads with tears in their eyes, looking back toward the station. Due to her physical condition, their mother couldn’t come out to see them off, and they were reluctant to move their feet.

This parting likely meant mother and daughters would never meet again.

Though the soldiers had mounted their horses, they didn’t have the heart to rush the girls.

“Hey,” only A-Jiu could be so heartless in hurrying them. With his hat and scarf covering his face, only his phoenix eyes were visible, his brow filled with coldness. “Are you leaving or not? Otherwise, you might as well stay behind with your mother.”

This young man had such a capricious temper and could turn hostile in an instant. The station manager quickly pushed the two girls toward the horses: “Hurry along now, hurry. The sooner you go, the sooner you’ll find your father and have him return to see your mother.”

The two girls hesitated no longer and mounted their horses with stable movements, proving they truly knew how to ride.

A-Jiu withdrew his gaze and spurred his horse: “Hya!” He galloped ahead.

The other soldiers also urged their horses forward. The two girls, enveloped among them, followed at full speed and quickly disappeared into the distance.

The station manager stood at the entrance watching them leave, his expression quite emotional.

“Sir, you’ve done another good deed,” a station guard approached to flatter him.

A good deed? The station manager patted his belly—his plump stomach that could barely be contained by his belt. Hanging from his belt were two bulging money pouches, the reward for being a good person.

“Good person,” the woman had thanked him with her breath as faint as a thread while lying on the bed. “By accepting this money, you’re doing a good deed. Otherwise, if I die and my two children also lose their lives, what use would this money be? Better to give it away and use it to buy my children a chance at life. As long as they’re sent to their father, even without money, they can survive.”

He had taken the money and done the job, fair to both old and young. He had found a path to life for these two children. When the woman died, he would also bury her, not leaving her body exposed in the wilderness. Hmm, putting it that way, he truly was a good person.

“Get back to work, get back to work,” the station manager said with a smile, patting his belly as he turned and waddled back inside.

But early the next morning, his door was knocked upon again.

“What’s happened? Has the Yang woman died?” the station manager asked with some surprise.

The physician had said Madam Yang wouldn’t live much longer. These past days, she had been hanging on by a thread. Perhaps with her two daughters sent away, the heavy stone had been lifted from her heart, and her last breath had finally departed?

“No,” the guard said. “Madam Yang has hired a cart and says she wants to leave.”

…

…

A donkey cart stood in the back courtyard, with Madam Yang half-lying inside, wrapped in a tattered cotton coat.

“What are you doing?” the station manager asked, perplexed. “In this freezing weather, and your condition, how can you travel?”

Madam Yang smiled weakly: “Old Xu, I still have a breath left in me. I want to return to my hometown. Like a falling leaf returning to its roots, I don’t want to die in a foreign land.”

Is that so? The station manager sighed: “Madam Yang, if you stay here to recover, you might still have a chance to see your husband and children.”

Traveling in her condition would likely lead to her immediate death.

Madam Yang shook her head, her expression sorrowful yet also bearing a hint of joy: “As long as they can find each other, I can rest easy. They can visit my grave in the future—it’s all the same.”

Since she insisted, the station manager didn’t try to persuade her further. However, if she intended to take back the money, making him a good person for nothing, that wouldn’t do.

He touched his belt: “Madam Yang, you’ll need travel expenses to get home, so—”

Before he could finish, Madam Yang hurriedly waved her hand: “I’ve already troubled you so much, Old Xu. I can’t let you spend more. I’ve kept some travel money, enough to get home. A person in my condition doesn’t need much money—carrying it would only be a burden.”

After speaking, she fell back weakly onto the bedding, her expression somewhat tense.

Of course—how could she truly give away her entire fortune? This woman must have set aside some money for her two daughters and kept some for herself. However, he wouldn’t have taken all her possessions anyway. Taking half would suffice. He wasn’t the type to pick the bones clean after eating the meat.

The station manager said kindly: “Very well, as you wish. Then, I wish you a safe journey.”

Madam Yang quickly nodded her head against the bedding instead of a formal bow of gratitude.

“Take good care of the lady on her way home, and you’ll have done a good deed too,” the station manager sternly instructed the cart driver. “Don’t mistreat this unfortunate person, or I won’t let you off.”

The cart driver repeatedly agreed. The donkey cart creaked and rattled as it left the relay station, disappearing down the road.

The station manager stood once more at the entrance, watching them leave while touching his belly. In the blink of an eye, he had sent off the mother and her two daughters. He could hardly remember how they had arrived—it felt like a dream.

He quickly felt the money pouches at his waist. Good, good, the money was still there.

Then all was well—it hadn’t been a futile dream.

Carriages and horses came and went, the sun rose and set, and the Bei Caozhen relay station continued its daily routines. The station didn’t always have pitiful people in distress, and the station manager wasn’t always playing the good Samaritan. His normal day consisted of sitting indoors, flipping through account ledgers, and checking the income and expenditures.

Occasionally, when distinguished officials passed through, he didn’t need to attend to them personally. The relay station remained while officials came and went like flowing water. Those who could stay in a first-class room this time might only get a common sleeping hall next time.

However, for local county officials, the station manager still had to welcome them warmly.

Today was overcast. The wind made one’s face sting with cold. In the main hall, charcoal fires burned while a group of runners either sat or stood, cursing the cold weather and complaining about the poor quality of the wine.

Seeing the station manager enter, a man in his forties wearing an official robe, who had just thrown his ceremonial sword on the table, said: “It’s not that the wine is poor—it’s that Old Xu has hidden the good stuff.”

The runners all pointed at the station manager and shouted.

The station manager was familiar with them and took no offense. He pointed at one of the men: “Cao the Fourth, you know very well where my wine is hidden. Go get it yourself.”

The man called Cao the Fourth didn’t hesitate, enthusiastically leading several runners out.

The station manager sat down beside the man with the ceremonial sword: “Postal Inspector Qi, in this bitter cold, what important matter has brought you out from your office?”

This Inspector Qi was not only the station manager’s superior but, more importantly, the younger brother-in-law of the county governor. He wielded great power in the county and could accomplish tasks with a mere flick of his finger, without needing to venture out in such bitter weather.

Unless there was a matter—or a person—too important to ignore.

There hadn’t been any major news in the county recently, had there?

Inspector Qi drained a bowl of hot water in one gulp: “This matter is both major and minor,” he said, setting down the bowl with a thud. “A young lady from the capital has gone missing.”