The Great Song Dynasty's Soul-Forging in Progress

As Qin Xianglian spoke, her voice choked up for the first time, "That year, Dongge was three years old, and my daughter Chunmei was only five. There was a severe drought that year, and there was nothing to eat. She starved to death. Before she died, she held my hand and said, 'Mother, I'm hungry...'"

She finally burst into tears.

It wasn't a loud, wailing cry; it was the kind of sobbing that had been suppressed for too long, held back for too long, and finally couldn't be contained anymore. Tears streamed down his face, dripping onto Dong Ge's tattered cotton-padded coat, leaving an indelible mark on everyone's hearts.

"If my daughter were alive, she would be fifteen or sixteen this year," she said, choking back tears. "Where was Chen Shimei when she died? He was in the capital, living the life of a prince consort, indulging in delicacies. Did he know that his daughter starved to death? Did he know that his parents also starved to death?"

Wang Zhonghua closed his eyes.

He suddenly realized something—

Qin Xianglian didn't hate Chen Shimei for abandoning her. What she hated was that Chen Shimei took away the few strings of cash the family had, and that he wasn't there when the family needed him most.

"Three years of severe drought," her voice trailed off, "The first year, we sold our cow. The second year, we sold our land. The third year, we sold everything. My parents-in-law starved to death, and so did my daughter. I sold my hair to bury them, and then, eating tree bark and grass roots, I begged my way from Chenjiazhuang to Junzhou City with Dongge. I thought that Junzhou had government officials, and we could find food there. But..."

She looked up at Wang Zhonghua through teary eyes: "General, the government has long since disbanded, and there are Zoroastrians here too. They say that if you believe in their religion, you'll have food to eat. I almost believed them. But Dong-ge wouldn't let me. He said, 'Mother, we can't believe them, they're not good stuff.'"

She smiled, a smile that contained pride, heartache, and unspeakable bitterness.

"Dong-ge is like his father, smart. But he's better than his father, he's kind-hearted."

Wang Zhonghua remained silent for a long time.

He crouched down to be at eye level with Qin Xianglian.

"Sister-in-law," he suddenly changed his address, "from now on, you and your son will live with me. I will treat Dong-ge's illness. I will provide for his studies. When he grows up, I will find him a job so that he can become an upright person."

Qin Xianglian was stunned.

She looked at Wang Zhonghua, her clear eyes filled with disbelief, gratitude, and a cautious, almost fearful apprehension that it might all be a dream.

"General, I..."

"Just call me Zhonghua." Wang Zhonghua gently helped her up. "You are Chen Shimei's wife, and I am his mortal enemy. The enemy of my enemy is my friend. Besides—" He paused, "you are a good person. A good person shouldn't suffer like this."

He turned to Han Qi: "Officer Han, Brother Han, from this day forward, your life doesn't belong to Chen Shimei, nor to the imperial court; it's something you earned yourself. Live well, and let the world see what true righteousness is!"

Han Qi trembled, and tears welled up in her eyes again: "General, I am not worthy of being called 'Big Brother'."

Qin Xianglian hugged Dong Ge and bowed deeply, her forehead almost touching the ground. The child suddenly opened his eyes, and through his feverish, delirious mouth, he mumbled, "Uncle Han..."

This sound made Han Qi, a tough man, burst into tears.

Dong Ge looked at Wang Zhonghua again, his eyes still blurry, but suddenly he grinned and said, "Uncle General... thank you..."

Wang Zhonghua felt a lump in his throat, squatted down and patted his head: "Just call me brother."

Dong Ge shook his head and said seriously, "No, you are a general, so I have to call you Uncle General."

Wang Zhonghua smiled, and tears almost welled up in his eyes.

This child is so sensible it breaks my heart.

That night, Wang Zhonghua told Di Qing and Ouyang Xiu everything.

The handwritten order from Chen Shimei was unfolded by candlelight.

After reading it, Ouyang Xiu's fingers trembled slightly: "Murdering his wife and children, framing loyal officials—in all my decades of life, I have never seen such a heartless and insane scoundrel… What a Chen Shimei! What a prince consort!"

Di Qing slammed his fist on the table and stood up: "The evidence is conclusive! Let's see how he can still deny it! This general will immediately muster the troops and return to Chenzhou to arrest him!"

"No rush," Ouyang Xiu said, pressing him down. "The most urgent task right now is to appease Junzhou. You will temporarily take charge of the military and political affairs of Junzhou. I, as an 'anti-Di' faction member, will submit a memorial to the throne pointing out your 'mistakes' to prevent others from framing you. Chen Shimei is a prince consort, and he has the Prince of Xiangyang behind him. This letter alone cannot bring him down. We need more witnesses and evidence, and we need him to be able to deny everything in court and before His Majesty."

He looked at Wang Zhonghua: "Han Qi and Qin Xianglian must go to Beijing. Their testimonies are more powerful than this sealing order."

Di Qing slammed his fist on the table in frustration, nearly cracking it.

Wang Zhonghua nodded: "I've already made the arrangements."

Ouyang Xiu pondered for a moment: "This matter is of utmost importance; we must return to the capital immediately to see the Emperor. Defense Commander Di, I entrust this matter to you. Follow the established strategy: 'Only pursue the ringleaders, and appease the people' to handle the aftermath. General Wang and I will travel day and night back to Bianjing!"

"Your subordinate obeys!" Di Qing solemnly clasped his hands in a fist salute. "Supervisor Wang, please go with peace of mind. I will take care of everything here. Lord Ouyang is getting old and cannot withstand a bumpy ride. I will send someone to escort you so you can travel slowly."

Wang Zhonghua stared at the warrant in his hand, his eyes flashing coldly: "Chen Shimei, your retribution has come. Don't believe me? Let's see!"

At dawn the next day, three riders rushed out of the gates of Junzhou City.

Wang Zhonghua took the lead, followed closely by Ouyang Xiu and Han Qi. Behind them was an inconspicuous green-canopied carriage, inside which sat Qin Xianglian and Dong Ge, along with five elite "Dark Arrow" guards led by Lü Maoyi.

In the morning light, Wang Zhonghua glanced back at the city that had just been ravaged by war, then at the carriage, before resolutely turning around and speeding towards Bianjing.

He knew that the real battlefield was waiting for him in Bianjing.

There are the unjustly accused Grandpa Qin and Liu Xinyi, the lone Qin Tiehua, the all-powerful Chen Shimei, and—an earth-shattering showdown is about to begin.

"Giddy up!" "Treading Snow" seemed to understand his feelings, let out a long neigh, and charged forward with all four hooves off the ground.

Wang Zhonghua took the lead, riding alone on the official road, gradually disappearing into the distance.

Inside the carriage, Qin Xianglian held Dong Ge close, softly humming an ancient folk song. The song had no words, only a melody, like the wind blowing through a wheat field, like water flowing across a riverbed, like a person walking in darkness for a long time and finally seeing a glimmer of light.

Dong Ge closed his eyes, a smile playing on his lips.

He dreamed of a wheat field, golden and boundless. His mother sat on the edge of the field, holding a cornbread in her hand, which she broke in half, giving him the larger piece and keeping the smaller one for herself.

He dreamt that Uncle Han was sharpening a sickle, sparks flying high into the air, and he stood beside him, mesmerized.

He dreamed that his uncle, the general, was riding a big horse, looking very majestic, with many, many soldiers following behind him.

He also dreamed of a person dressed in official robes kneeling on the ground, crying uncontrollably.

He didn't know that person.

But he thought that the person looked really ugly when they cried.

"drive!"

The sound of horses' hooves clattered, and the morning light shone like gold.

Behind them, the smoke of battle in Junzhou gradually dissipated. Ahead, a storm was brewing in Bianjing.

Along this road, an abandoned woman, a constable who defied orders, and a emaciated child are all on their way to justice that is many years overdue.

Qin Xianglian did not hate Chen Shimei.

But justice, though delayed, will eventually come.

On the 28th day of the first lunar month, Bianliang, the capital of the Eastern Capital, was in sight.

When that magnificent city, which she had only heard about in the stories of storytellers, suddenly appeared before Qin Tiehua's eyes like a primordial beast crawling on the earth, she felt dizzy and almost fell off the rented skinny horse.

The city walls soared into the clouds, seemingly connecting heaven and earth. Their dark gray surface, weathered by time, carried the weight and majesty of countless years. Banners fluttered atop the city towers, and armored soldiers stood like a forest, their cold, metallic sheen gleaming in the thin winter sunlight. The massive city gates gaped open, swallowing a tidal wave of people and carriages; the clamor, even from miles away, could be faintly heard—the unique, vibrant energy and prosperity of the imperial capital, stirring the heart.

"We're here...we're finally here..." Qin Tiehua's chapped lips moved slightly. Her body, sustained only by sheer willpower for days, felt all its strength drain away the moment she saw her target. The wound on her left arm, already numb from the cold, now throbbed with excruciating pain. Her vision blurred, the surrounding noise seemed muffled by a thick veil, and the world spun and dimmed before her eyes...

Her last conscious thought was feeling herself slide softly off the horse and fall into boundless darkness. The half-eaten, rock-hard cornbread rolled out of her bundle and spun a few times in the dust.

……

After an unknown amount of time, Qin Tiehua regained some consciousness amidst a warm and fragrant atmosphere.

She felt as if she were lying on a cloud, with an exceptionally soft mattress beneath her and a light, warm brocade quilt covering her.

A faint, elegant scent, a blend of herbs and flowers, lingered around my nose, dispelling the memories of ice, snow, and blood.