Listening to her uncle describe the situation in Yun City, Ming Zhao grew excited upon confirming that it was indeed the Xie family there. If all went smoothly, they could finally settle down in peace.
As dawn broke faintly across the sky, the group broke camp and set off.
They had little baggage to pack—only some tattered belongings that barely provided warmth against the cold, the last remnants of their food supplies, a few clay pots, and several untanned animal hides obtained from hunting.
The stretcher had long been prepared with sturdy branches and old cloth strips, padded thickly with dry grass and worn felt. Zhao Yong selected four strong retainers to take turns carrying the elderly lady. Ming Zhao helped her grandmother lie down on it. Though weak, the old woman’s eyes were clear and bright as she nodded at Ming Zhao.
Madam Zhou led the two children at the very front. She was clearly extremely familiar with these mountain forests, deliberately choosing rugged paths that seemed impassable but were actually traversable.
The group followed closely behind, weaving through deep valleys and ridges shrouded in morning mist. Zhao Huaiyuan, along with several skilled men, spread out around the group, vigilantly observing their surroundings.
The mountain path proved even more difficult than anticipated.
In many places, they had to use both hands and feet to climb steep rocks or wade through icy, bone-chilling streams.
The women and children struggled terribly, with people slipping and falling from time to time, only to be quickly pulled up by those beside them. No one complained; the instinct to survive and their longing for Yun City kept everyone going.
Ming Zhao held Mingshu’s hand, walking beside the stretcher, her gaze sweeping over Madam Zhou’s thin back. This woman, after enduring the despair of her husband resorting to cannibalism and teetering on the brink of collapse, had summoned astonishing willpower to survive—all for the sake of her two children.
In these chaotic times, the resilience of motherhood was deeply moving.
After three days of arduous trekking, they had run out of food entirely. Ravenously hungry, they crossed an exceptionally steep ridge, and suddenly, the view opened up before them.
They stood on a relatively gentle ridge, looking down into a basin surrounded by mountains. There, built against the slopes, a city stood in plain sight!
The city walls were constructed from bluish-grey massive stones, towering and formidable, winding and undulating along the mountain’s contours as if fused with the terrain itself.
Faintly visible on the walls were the figures of patrolling soldiers. The flags fluttering on the poles, though tattered, could still be vaguely recognized as bearing the style of the Jin Army.
Scattered wisps of cooking smoke rose from within the city, lending a sense of vitality beneath the leaden-grey sky.
“That’s Yun City!” Madam Zhou pointed downward, her voice trembling with excitement. “That hidden path is just behind that cliff overgrown with withered vines ahead. Go around it, head down, and it leads to the concealed culvert opening at the base of the city wall.”
With hope so close at hand, suppressed murmurs of excitement rippled through the group.
Just as they were about to turn toward that secret path, a sudden change occurred!
“Who goes there?! Halt!”
A sharp shout rang out from the woods to their side.
Immediately afterward, seven or eight soldiers clad in tattered Jin Army uniforms, armed with spears and bows, rushed out from their hiding spots, fanning out to surround them.
Leading them was a squad leader with a stubbled face and fierce, menacing eyes.
Clearly, Yun City’s garrison had not abandoned vigilance over the surrounding mountains and forests, especially in areas like this, backed against the city walls and potentially concealing access routes.
Zhao Yong immediately signaled the group to stop, positioning himself and others to shield the elderly lady and the women and children in the center.
He stepped forward, cupped his hands, and said, “Esteemed officer, we are commoners fleeing south from Luoyang, who have drifted here. Hearing that Yun City still holds firm, we have come to seek refuge, with no ill intent whatsoever.”
The squad leader sized up their motley group of men, women, old, and young, ragged in clothing yet faintly exuding an unusual air. His gaze lingered especially on Zhao Yong, Zhao Huaiyuan, and others who clearly bore the aura of military men, then swept over the dignified old madam on the stretcher and Ming Zhao, who stood beside her—young yet composed.
“Seek refuge?”
The squad leader sneered, his eyes wary. “In these times, who knows if you are truly commoners, spies of the Hu people, or bandits fleeing from somewhere? The gates of Yun City have long been sealed, admitting no outsiders! If you know what’s good for you, get lost now! Approach any closer, and you’ll be killed on sight!”
The soldiers behind him raised their weapons one after another, their killing intent palpable.
Zhao Yong’s expression darkened, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.
The atmosphere grew tense in an instant.
Just then, Ming Zhao stepped forward, moving to Zhao Yong’s side.
Her small figure stood out starkly among the group of adults, drawing attention.
She lifted her face to look at the fierce squad leader, her voice clear and neither submissive nor arrogant. “Esteemed officer, we are indeed commoners fleeing south from Luoyang. We have traveled northward in hopes of finding our kin. May I ask who is currently in charge in the city? Is it Governor Xie?”
The squad leader was taken aback, not expecting a girl who looked no more than eight or nine years old to step forward and speak. He frowned and waved impatiently. “Of course, Governor Xie is in charge! But what does that have to do with you? Leave at once! Otherwise—”
His words were cut off by Ming Zhao: “I am a daughter of the Luoyang Zhao Clan, Zhao Mingzhao, daughter of General Zhao Zhen. On the stretcher is my grandmother, Old Madam Zhao. Hearing that Yun City still holds firm, we have come to seek refuge with Governor Xie and join forces to resist the Hu barbarians. We ask that you, esteemed officer, report this on our behalf.”
Daughter of General Zhao Zhen?!
At these words, not only did the squad leader and the guarding soldiers freeze, but even Zhao Yong and their own people were slightly startled. Although Ming Zhao’s identity was a fact, revealing it now was unpredictable—whether it would bring fortune or disaster was hard to tell.
The squad leader eyed Ming Zhao suspiciously, then glanced at the old madam on the stretcher, who, though frail and ill, still faintly exuded an air of grace and dignity. His expression wavered between doubt and uncertainty.
The name of Zhao Zhen still carried considerable weight in the Northern Lands, especially among these Jin Army troops who continued to hold firm. But could the words of a young girl be trusted so easily?
“Daughter of General Zhao? What proof do you have?”
Ming Zhao replied calmly, “My father’s name is known throughout the army. My grandmother is here as a witness. We have drifted here with nothing of value, only our identities and our names. If you do not believe us, esteemed officer, you may request Governor Xie or the person in charge in the city to come and verify. We are willing to wait outside the city.”
Her demeanor was composed, her eyes clear, without a trace of cowardice or deceit.
Her bearing was far from that of an ordinary refugee child.
The squad leader hesitated.
If they truly were the family of General Zhao, turning them away might bring trouble in the future.
But if they were impostors… He found it difficult to decide.
“Boss, what should we do?” a soldier whispered.
The squad leader gritted his teeth. “Stay right here, and do not take another step closer! I’ll send someone to report!”
He pointed at Zhao Yong and the others. “You, keep an eye on them! If they make any suspicious moves, kill them without mercy!”
The wait felt exceptionally long.
The cold wind whizzed, making everyone shiver.
The guarding soldiers watched them closely, weapons in hand.
Zhao Yong and the others were also fully alert, the atmosphere so tense it could almost be wrung out like water.
Madam Zhou tightly hugged the two children, shrinking behind the crowd, her face filled with fear.
Ming Zhao stood beside her grandmother’s stretcher, holding the old lady’s cold hand. The old lady struggled to stand up—she could still walk a little. Ming Zhao supported her, her gaze calm as she looked toward the towering city walls.
She was gambling—betting that the Xie family was still here, betting that Xie Yungui knew Zhao Zhen. After all, they would become very close in the future.
After what felt like an eternity, movement came from the direction of the city walls.
A small group of people emerged from a side gate of the city gate. At the forefront was a boy dressed in fine fur and a cloak, around twelve or thirteen years old, his face still youthful, with an air of noble elegance in his eyes and brows. Behind him followed several guards armed with swords.
The boy nimbly dismounted from his horse and walked straight over, his gaze sweeping over the crowd before finally settling on Ming Zhao, who was being protected in the center.
He waved his hand, signaling the tense garrison soldiers to step back slightly.
“The garrison just reported that a group of people arrived outside the city, claiming to be the family of General Zhao?”
The boy spoke, his voice clear and bright, “I am Xie Yan. My father is Xie Yungui. May I ask who among you is Old Madam Zhao and the young mistress of the Zhao Clan?”
Xie Yan!
Ming Zhao’s heart settled. She stepped forward, straightened her sleeves, and bowed in greeting. “Brother Xie, I hope you are well. I am the daughter of Zhao Zhen. This is my grandmother. She is unwell and has difficulty moving. Please forgive any discourtesy.”
Her demeanor was composed, her etiquette impeccable. Though her clothes were worn and her face weathered, the grace instilled in her since childhood as a daughter of the Scholar-Gentry was unmistakable.
Xie Yan’s gaze lingered on Ming Zhao’s face for a moment before turning to the old lady, who was leaning to the side and nodding to him. His father had mentioned the Zhao family. Even if they weren’t who they claimed to be, in these chaotic times, as fellow members of the Scholar-Gentry, he could still offer some assistance.
“Since it is Sister Zhao and Old Madam Zhao.”
Xie Yan clasped his hands and returned the bow. “You must have endured much hardship on your journey. My father is also in the city. Though Yun City is small, it can still offer shelter. Please follow me into the city.”
He turned to the garrison captain and said, “Open the side gate and welcome Old Madam Zhao, the young mistress of the Zhao Clan, and their party into the city. Be careful not to cause any disturbance.”
The garrison captain quickly bowed in acknowledgment, his gaze toward Ming Zhao and the others now markedly different.
They headed toward the city gate. The heavy side gate slowly creaked open amid the sound of the winch turning, revealing the narrow streets and houses inside the city.
Ming Zhao let out a long, deep sigh of relief in her heart.
They had finally made it inside.
She glanced back at the exhausted group behind her, who had finally grasped a thread of vitality in their desperate situation, then looked toward the northern sky, still shrouded in the smoke of war.
She had truly led them to survive.