“Uncle Duan…” Zhao Nuan detected grief in his tone, likely stemming from his deep camaraderie with the Marquis. “Fortunately, the Hou Estate suffered no losses. When the Marquise, the Eldest Young Master, and the others arrive in Yunzhou, they might live even more comfortably than in the capital.”
“Hmm.” Duan Zheng nodded. “The Zhou family are resilient people—they’ll surely arrive safely.”
He glanced at Zhou Ningyu, whose dark eyes were fixed unblinkingly on the skirmish ahead.
Zhao Nuan smiled at the sight of Zhou Ningyu. “Truly a Zhou through and through. If you ask me, the Eldest Young Master never should have abandoned martial arts for scholarly pursuits—then he wouldn’t be defenseless now.”
Duan Zheng heaved a long sigh. “Indeed… The Marquis always cherished the generations-old friendship between the Zhou and Yuchi families, believing his descendants could find peace by laying down arms. Otherwise, things would never have come to this.”
As they spoke, the fighting ahead concluded.
“Let’s go!”
Zhao Nuan struggled to keep pace, but after a day and night of physical exhaustion, she finally collapsed unconscious a quarter-hour later.
“Mother…”
Yan’er scrambled down and threw herself over Zhao Nuan, weeping until she gasped for breath.
Shen Mingqing checked Zhao Nuan’s breathing and felt her forehead. “Don’t cry, little one. Your mother’s just exhausted and asleep—not dead.”
Yan’er hiccupped through her tears. “You have such a terrible way with words! Why say ‘dead’ when she’s just asleep? Waaah… Mother… Wuwu…”
“Don’t cry, don’t cry.” Duan Zheng picked Yan’er up. “Uncle Shen misspoke—we’ll punish him by making him carry your mother.”
It was midnight, and Yunzhou City’s gates were already closed.
As they walked, the group discussed options and finally settled in a small town about ten li from Yunzhou City.
Only after laying Zhao Nuan on the bed did Shen Mingqing notice the branch tied to her arm. As he reached to untie it, Yan’er rushed over and slapped his hand away.
“Don’t touch her! My mother’s injured.”
“When did this happen?” Shen Mingqing examined Zhao Nuan’s arm carefully—no bloodstains, suggesting bone or tendon injury rather than external wounds.
“Yesterday afternoon, when we jumped from the carriage and tumbled down the slope.”
The other four gathered around at Yan’er’s words. “Your mother took you both jumping from a moving carriage?”
After receiving the message, Shen Mingqing’s group had been waiting along the Official Road near Yunzhou City. When Zhao Nuan failed to appear, they could only trail behind the officers like hunters waiting by a tree stump.
To avoid alerting their targets, they maintained a distance of several li from the officers.
They’d only learned of Zhao Nuan’s mid-journey escape when they encountered Lao Zhang at the city gates—covered in blood and barely conscious—though his confused state prevented clear details.
“Yes, I stabbed the horse so it would run wildly.” Yan’er nodded vigorously, a teardrop splashing onto Shen Mingqing’s hand.
Duan Zheng’s expression tightened. “Fetch a physician.”
After one man rushed out, Duan Zheng looked gravely at Yan’er. “Good child, your mother likely injured herself while protecting you during the jump. We need to remove her clothes to examine her bones… But…”
Yan’er took a step back, her small face filled with solemnity. “My mother said nothing in this world matters more than human life. Thank you, Grandfather Duan, and thank you, Uncle Shen.”
At this point, her lips trembled. “Please save my mother.”
“Waa… waa…”
Hearing Yan’er’s tearful voice, the previously quiet Zhou Ningyu also began to cry with puckered lips.
Just then, the door was knocked. Duan Zheng cautiously approached the door. “Who is it?”
“Honored guest, the millet porridge you requested is ready.”
Duan Zheng’s expression instantly changed. He opened the door and politely accepted the bowl of porridge from the waiter with both hands. “Thank you, young brother. The child was just hungry and crying.”
“Let me feed the child,” Shen Mingqing said, taking the bowl and clumsily trying to sit Zhou Ningyu up.
Yan’er pouted her little mouth. “Not like that, like this.”
Shen Mingqing watched as the girl who only reached his waist first sat down herself, then deftly turned Zhou Ningyu—who wasn’t much smaller than her—and sat him on her knee.
Placing the porridge bowl on the table, she held Zhou Ningyu around the waist with one hand while using the other to scoop half a spoonful of porridge from the edge of the bowl.
Then she leaned forward, blew on it to cool it, and accurately fed it into Zhou Ningyu’s mouth.
After feeding one spoonful, she pushed the bowl further inward on the table. “When my mother feeds children, she never brings it this hot. You shouldn’t blow on the porridge right over the child’s head. Keep the bowl farther away—children’s hands are very quick.”
Shen Mingqing remained noncommittal. “There are so many rules for feeding a child?”
“Of course,” Yan’er said, her face full of pride. “My mother raised two and a half children, and none of us ever had scars caused by adult carelessness.”
“Why two and a half?”
Yan’er patted Zhou Ningyu’s belly. “Isn’t this the half?”
Hearing this, Shen Mingqing opened his collar and looked down. “I didn’t have any scars before fourteen either.”
After feeding Zhou Ningyu, the doctor was summoned.
At this point, Duan Zheng faced a dilemma: who should stay in the room?
But Yan’er abruptly asked, “Uncle Shen, are you married?”
“Hmm?” Shen Mingqing didn’t understand her intention but answered honestly nonetheless. “Not yet.”
“Grandfather Duan, then Uncle Shen should stay. He’s younger, so if my mother wakes up and feels desperate, there might still be room for mediation.”
“Hey, wait—little girl, didn’t you say your mother thinks life is most important?”
“Exactly!” Yan’er shrugged. “My mother said people change, and the present self might not understand the self from years ago.”
Duan Zheng was amused by the little girl. “Mingqing, you stay then. Yan’er, give your brother to Grandpa. Everyone else, come out with me to wait.”
Unexpectedly, Yan’er shook her head, climbed onto the bed, and placed Zhou Ningyu against the innermost side.
“Be good, little brother. Mother needs treatment, so don’t cry.” After saying this, she kissed Zhou Ningyu’s forehead, and he began to giggle.
Seeing this, Duan Zheng didn’t insist and smilingly retreated outside.
When they undid Zhao Nuan’s clothes, fortunately, she was wearing a breast binder underneath.
Yan’er giggled mischievously, and only then did Shen Mingqing realize he had been tricked by this little girl.
No wonder he had closed his eyes earlier, fumbling like a blind man touching an elephant.
“Aiyo,” the white-bearded doctor exclaimed in surprise.
“What’s wrong with the doctor grandpa? Is my mother very sick?”
“Nothing, nothing.” The old physician stroked his beard. “This woman is no ordinary person.”
Shen Mingqing didn’t understand: “What do you mean?”
“Look at her arm.” The white-bearded doctor cut open Zhao Nuan’s left sleeve, revealing her entire arm swollen.
“Even men cry out in pain from dislocations. Her arm has been swollen like this for at least eight hours – only those who’ve experienced it know the suffering involved.”
Shen Mingqing was somewhat stunned. During those eight hours, she had been fleeing with two children and had killed one person.
Actually, when he had previously received the letter from his Zhou family cousin, he had been somewhat skeptical, thinking the Zhou family had truly declined if they couldn’t find anyone else to rely on and had to entrust the children to a wet nurse.
Now it seemed he had been shortsighted.