As soon as Granny Wang finished speaking, the expressions of the few present shifted in various ways.
“Bianjing? Is that the Bianjing where the emperor lives?” The most intense reaction came from Chen Yuanniang, who widened her round eyes like a squirrel startled while clutching a hazelnut.
However, the squirrel soon met with a chestnut assault—her grandmother’s finger tapped heavily on her forehead, furious. “What ’emperor’? I told you to stop listening to those vulgar tales in the marketplace. Those people aren’t even considered Luqi People, yet they’ve picked up such improper words.”
Granny Wang explained with exasperation, “That’s the Imperial Family, the Sage. Remember that.”
Chen Yuanniang rubbed her smooth forehead. She had long developed a skull impervious to pain, but she still pouted resentfully and repeated, “I remember.”
Then, she quickly regained her earlier vitality and excitedly asked again, “Grandma, is it the Bianjing where the Imperial Family lives?”
Granny Wang was speechless at her granddaughter’s persistence but nodded nonetheless.
Sure enough, the next moment, Yuanniang’s eyes lit up, and she gasped softly, clearly overjoyed.
That was Bianjing!
As a young girl who grew up in a remote village, the farthest Yuanniang had ever been was the county town. She knew nothing of the surrounding prefectures and counties, but Bianjing was a place everyone in the world yearned for.
It was said to be a place of opulence and splendor, where flowers bloomed everywhere, carriages and bridal sedans were adorned with silk ribbons, merchants came and went in an endless stream, rare treasures filled the capital’s markets, and exotic delicacies were available for all to enjoy. At night, the mansions of officials were brightly lit for banquets, the entertainment quarters and marketplaces glowed with lanterns, acrobatics and drum music crowded the streets, and the sounds of silk strings and laughter wafted through the flower-lined alleys.
It was a place of earthly paradise, a land of enchanting wealth and luxury.
Just thinking about it made Yuanniang feel as though she were floating on clouds, her heart surging with excitement.
Naturally, she would not object.
Madam Cen, recalling past events, hesitated slightly, but she was accustomed to obeying her mother-in-law and would not raise any objections.
As for Chen Kuo Cang, he was only momentarily astonished. He knew the family had to move, but he had assumed it would be to the county town or the prefecture, never expecting it to be Bianjing.
Setting aside the unfamiliarity of Bianjing, this decision was more reliable than moving to the county town.
A seemingly tempting fortune could still attract murderous greed in the county town, but in Bianjing, it would go unnoticed. There, the world’s wealthiest gathered, and the bustling city, being under the emperor’s feet, enjoyed clear and honest governance. As long as one was careful and avoided falling into traps or scams, they could live in peace.
But knowing was one thing; acting on it was another. Most people were unwilling to embark on a long journey to secure a stable life.
His grandmother in this life had both the means and great courage.
“Grandma, when are we leaving?” The lamplight reflected in Yuanniang’s eyes, making them seem to glow. She asked with great excitement.
Granny Wang looked toward the window, which was half-covered, revealing only a glimpse of the impenetrable darkness outside. She said, “In two hours.”
It was now halfway through the Xu hour. Two hours later would be the Chou hour, a time when all was silent, people were deep in sleep, and it would be difficult to attract attention.
“Isn’t that too rushed?” Madam Cen asked worriedly.
Yuanniang glanced at her mother, then at her grandmother, nodding repeatedly in agreement, though it was unclear whom she was siding with.
Granny Wang, however, had no intention of changing her mind. Firmly, she said, “Just pack a few changes of clothes. The Wei Family has already helped prepare the travel permits and carriages. If anything is missing, we can acquire it along the way.”
With that settled, it was time to pack.
Though it was said they only needed to prepare two sets of spare clothes, having lived here for so many years and developed attachments, there were inevitably some sentimental odds and ends they wished to bring along. Once they left today, it was uncertain whether they would ever return.
Yuanniang was someone who cherished old sentiments deeply. Even though she had only lived for twelve or thirteen years, that didn’t hinder her feelings.
Even though Granny had told her to only bring clothes without too many patches, Yuanniang simply couldn’t bear to part with them. She even packed a shirt whose sleeves were a full inch too short and couldn’t be worn at all. Her reasoning was simple: it could be altered. If she couldn’t wear it, her younger brother could. Fabric was expensive, and even if a garment was reduced to a mere scrap of cloth, it could still be sewn into inner socks. Thus, it absolutely could not be discarded.
In addition, she carefully and solemnly placed into the trunk a palm-sized tiger-head cloth doll, sewn by her mother’s own hands, which had accompanied her to sleep since she was little.
Without holding Dahua at night, she couldn’t fall asleep.
Dahua was that red-bodied, flower-faced tiger-head cloth doll, with eyes as wide as copper bells, fierce yet adorable, and was Yuanniang’s most treasured possession.
Yuanniang, who couldn’t even gather three complete sets of unpatched clothing, somehow managed to fill an entire trunk, and for each item, she could name a reason why it absolutely had to be taken. Granny Wang couldn’t be bothered to argue with her, rolling her eyes before going to check on the other two.
Hmph, she’d have to be utterly bored to argue with a child. In any case, there were so many trunks and boxes, one more from Yuanniang wouldn’t matter, and whether it was full or not was of little consequence.
After inspecting the luggage packed by the other two and nodding in satisfaction, Granny Wang was about to return to her room to catch her breath when she suddenly remembered how quiet Yuanniang’s room had become.
She approached and saw that the door was unlatched. Inside, aside from the large wooden trunk, there was only an empty old wooden table. The basket for odds and ends was empty, and the bed was left with nothing but bare wooden planks. The quilt patched together from scraps of cloth had likely been stuffed into Yuanniang’s trunk—truly impressive that she managed to fit it all in.
Granny Wang shook her head and went to find the stubborn girl.
She found her in the cooking shed, where Yuanniang had gathered a pile of jars and bottles, though it was unclear what they contained. The coarse hemp rice sack, which had just been dragged back during the day, stood out prominently.
As soon as Yuanniang spotted Granny, she guiltily lowered her head, fidgeting with her fingers and stammering, “We’ll need to eat on the road.”
“I’ve already bought a whole basket of hu cakes,” Granny Wang said, giving her a faint glance.
Hu cakes, baked in an oven, contained little moisture, were resistant to spoilage, and were filling—making them the most suitable provisions.
Granny Wang continued, “Your trunk is already full. How do you plan to carry these?”
Chen Yuanniang immediately replied, “I can carry them on my back!”
“As you wish,” Granny Wang said, glancing at her before uttering those two words and walking away leisurely.
Children weren’t worth taking too seriously.
Left behind, Yuanniang happily placed the items into a bamboo basket, growing more delighted as she went, her smile spreading uncontrollably across her face. Perhaps because she had grown up in poverty, she had developed a frugal nature. Even if something was worn-out, she felt as though she had struck gold the moment she got her hands on it.
Once everyone had finished packing, the night grew deeper.
In the late hours of a summer’s end, the wind carried a chill, causing shivers upon contact. The chirping of insects was no longer as clamorous as it had been right after dinner, now quiet and subdued. The fields lay shrouded in shadow, while the stars in the sky shone ever more brightly.
Along the small path by the fields, the sound of rolling wheels echoed, startling a few toads into leaping into the ditches.
Under the cold gleam of moonlight, shadows gradually emerged. Granny Wang, standing before the door, tightened her face and spoke solemnly, “They’re here.”
Chen Yuanniang immediately hoisted the bamboo basket from the ground onto her back, gave it a slight shake, and craned her neck in anticipation.
Leading the group was the biaotou who had come earlier with Madam Wei, along with several cart drivers. There were no laborers for moving goods, as these biaoshi were strong enough to handle the task themselves, avoiding the need to involve extra hands and complicate matters.
Granny Wang stepped forward to engage the biaotou in conversation, discussing mundane topics like the route along the way. It was rather dull, so Yuanniang rested her hands on the shoulder straps of the bamboo basket, lowered her head, and idly kicked small stones on the ground.
Why weren’t they done talking yet?
Just as Yuanniang was thinking this to herself, she heard the biaotou say, “Yu Mama is being escorted to Yichuan by our other brothers. For your journey to Bianjing, we few will provide protection. Though the road is long, with our brothers from the Zheng Clan Escort Agency, you can rest assured.”
Yu Mama was the leading woman from the Wei Family. Shouldn’t they also be returning to Bianjing? Why were they going to Yichuan instead?
Yuanniang grew curious but refrained from asking.
She knew her place!
Meanwhile, Granny Wang smiled warmly and offered a compliment, “The reputation of the Zheng Clan Escort Agency is well-known throughout Bianjing. I have every confidence.”
After the pleasantries, Zheng Biaotou invited them onto an ox cart with a roof made of palm leaves, apologizing profusely, “In our haste, this was the only cart we could find. It’s humble and crude—I hope you won’t mind.”
“How could we?” Granny Wang replied, continuing the conversation.
Sitting inside the ox cart, squeezed between her mother and grandmother, Yuanniang thought the same. Though the interior was a bit cramped, forcing the four of them to huddle together either hugging their knees or kneeling, the cart had a roof!
This was her first time riding in a vehicle that wasn’t exposed on all sides. In the past, at best, she’d been lucky enough to hitch a ride on a flat cart carrying wine barrels. When the winter wind blew, she’d shiver and tuck in her neck.
What a pity. If she were just going out as a guest and could return in a few days, she could have boasted to Tao Niang and the others. Tao Niang had always been the one showing off before, and Yuanniang had never been able to turn the tables.
Once the goods were loaded, the ox cart began to move slowly, though no one noticed exactly when. The cold night breeze rustled the straw curtain and scattered Yuanniang’s thoughts. Even wearing layered clothing, the deep night chill was unavoidable. Sensing the cold draft, Madam Cen held Yuanniang tightly, shielding her from the cold.
Mother and daughter clung closely together as the long convoy snaked like a thread along the winding path.
Outside, Tao Niang, who had tossed and turned half the night in resentment over the sudden wealth of Chen Yuanniang’s family, couldn’t sleep. She threw on a short jacket and stepped out to fetch a bucket for nighttime needs, only to stumble upon this scene.
Watching Yuanniang’s face flicker in and out of view as the ox cart swayed, Tao Niang froze in place.
For a long while, until the convoy had moved far into the distance, reduced to mere black dots, she finally parted her lips and whispered softly, “Stay safe.”
From now on, they might never meet again.
Though she would now be the prettiest girl in the village, Tao Niang didn’t feel as happy as she’d imagined. She felt like crying.
But childhood companions must part ways one day. Perhaps only in old age would they understand the value of such bonds and the weight of longing.
No one knew how much time had passed—maybe half an hour, maybe an hour. In any case, it was the darkest hour of the night when several stealthy figures appeared before the fence surrounding the Chen family’s thatched hut.
Some held knives in their hands, while others had ropes tucked at their waists. All of them were in their prime, clearly accustomed to such work, with their tools fully prepared.