As cries of protest filled the hall, He Jingyuan raised his hand, signaling the officials below to hold their tongues. “If I go, it is dangerous,” he said evenly, “but are the soldiers defending Lucheng not in danger as well? If I go, the rebels will hesitate out of fear of me. Then Lucheng will not be as perilous, and you will have time to recruit more troops from among the people.”

When the council concluded, cavalrymen immediately galloped off in all directions carrying conscription decrees.

· ─ ·✶· ─ · 

Lin’an Town.

Because of Xie Zheng’s reckless behavior, Fan Changyu had been seething with anger all afternoon.

She opened a book on the table, intending to distract herself, but when she saw the densely packed notes in small script covering the margins, the breath caught in her chest—unable to rise or fall.

Those annotations were all written by him during the nights he stayed up late.

As her anger slowly ebbed, she recalled his words—that he might die at the hands of his enemy—and a dull unease stirred within her.

Was his insistence on leaving because he was burdened by some great vengeance?

She stepped out of her room. Passing through the main hall, she saw that the pile of supplies she had prepared for him was still neatly on the table. The separation document lay there too—both sheets bore only her signature. He had not stamped his seal. Her heart grew more complicated still.

Changning and Yu Bao’er had gone out to play with the neighborhood children and had yet to return.

Fan Changyu walked to the door of the south room. After hesitating for a moment, she finally knocked.

There was no reply from inside.

She pressed her lips together and knocked again, calling softly, “Yan Zheng, are you there?”

Still, silence.

Thinking of the harsh words she had spoken in anger earlier, Fan Changyu feared that Yan Zheng might have left without a word. She pushed the door open with force—only to see that all of his belongings were still there. Her heart finally settled back into place.

So, he must have just gone out to clear his mind?

She closed the door and was about to return to her room when she heard shouting, crying, and soldiers’ angry voices coming from beyond the alley.

“General! General! He’s my only son! Please, have mercy on us, mother and child…”

“The rebels are about to attack Jizhou! If the young men don’t go to the battlefield, should we wait for the rebels to come and slaughter Jizhou?”

Fan Changyu’s heart skipped a beat. She opened the courtyard gate and looked out—armed soldiers in armor were barging into every household, dragging away able-bodied men.

The one wailing on the ground was Granny Kang.

She clung tightly to her son, refusing to let go, but was no match for the strength of several soldiers. Her son was taken away by force.

Granny Kang cried out, “Son, don’t be afraid! I’ll go to the Song family right now and beg Master Song to plead with the county magistrate to let you go!”

Fan Changyu saw the soldiers’ armor and recognized them as troops under Jizhou Prefecture. She knew that begging the magistrate would be useless—unless he was willing to humble himself before the officer in charge of conscription and offer some costly favors.

She immediately grew anxious for Yan Zheng.

If he were conscripted, when would the war end and when could they return home? More likely they would die on the battlefield, with no place even to bury their bones.

The children playing outside, seeing the commotion, no longer dared be mischievous and ran home.

Changning and Yu Bao’er arrived at the gate and hid behind Fan Changyu, peeking out with only half their heads, timidly watching the soldiers storming the lane.

Changning nervously looked up at Fan Changyu. “A-jie, Yanzi’s eldest brother was taken by those soldiers. Will brother in law be taken too?”

Fan Changyu had no certainty herself; this was her first time witnessing a conscription.

She had heard from Madam Zhao before that one could pay silver to exempt a conscripted person, but this time it did not look possible.

She shepherded the two children into the yard. “You both go inside first.”

She had just shut the courtyard gate when the neighborhood leader (shichang) and soldiers reached her gate.

By the laws of the realm, civilians were organized in groups of five households and tens; taxes and conscription were carried out by these ten-household units, and if anyone sheltered a man, all ten households would be punished.

The neighborhood head, awkward-faced, truthfully told the soldiers about Fan Changyu’s household: “This is the head of the household, surname Fan, called Changyu. She married in a husband as an in-law.”

Hearing that she has a married-in husband, the soldiers were surprised. Seeing only Fan Changyu outside and the gate tightly closed, their faces darkened. One barked, “Where is your husband?”

Fan Changyu pressed her lips tight. If she said she and Yan Zheng had already divorced and that the divorce document inside had not yet been sealed by his fingerprint, she would certainly be dragging the other nine households into the pit.

But if she let Yan Zheng be taken, it would be an injustice to him.

After weighing it repeatedly, she answered truthfully, “He is not at home.”

The soldier seemed accustomed to that answer; with an unfriendly look he lifted his foot to kick the door. The soldier holding the roster, probably literate, had already found Fan Changyu’s name on the Lin’an Town register and hurriedly called his companion, “Wait.”

He looked more carefully at the roster, then at Fan Changyu. “Fan Changyu, is it?”

Fan Changyu replied without submissiveness or arrogance, “That is this woman.”

The literate soldier said to his companion, “Her husband is already on the conscription roster. I reckon he was among that group seized on the road just now.”

Fan Changyu’s heart thudded wildly. She hastened to ask, “My husband has been taken? Sergeant, are you sure you saw correctly?”

The literate soldier glanced at the roster and said, “Your husband’s name is Yan Zheng, isn’t it?”

Upon hearing that name, Fan Changyu’s last sliver of hope vanished.

She answered hoarsely, “He is my husband.”

The neighborhood head and soldiers moved on to the next household, continuing to knock. Fan Changyu’s hands and feet went cold; she crouched down at the gate.

With Yan Zheng’s skill, it would be impossible for the soldiers to stop him if he chose to leave.

He had read so many books and understood the law; he would willingly allow himself to be taken to avoid implicating the other nine households, wouldn’t he?

Fan Changyu thought of the bundle of things she had prepared on the table and of the recent acrimonious parting between them. Her chest felt even heavier, unsure whether it was guilt or something else.

She sat there listless for a while, then suddenly seemed to remember something. She looked up and asked the soldier knocking on the door, “Sergeant, where is my husband now? May I see him once more? He was taken outside; I want to bring him some things.”

The soldier glanced at Fan Changyu and said, “That batch we seized on the road has already been escorted to the county seat. They’re to march with the army to Lucheng. Whether you can still catch up if you leave now, I can’t say.”

Hearing this, Fan Changyu thanked him, entrusted Changning and Yu Bao’er to the neighborly old woman next door, then rushed back inside. She grabbed the bundle from the table, stuffed in two more packets of dried tangerine peel candy, and hurried off toward the county.

Finding the ox carts too slow, she borrowed a horse and galloped toward the city gate—but still arrived a step too late. The first batch of conscripts had already departed with the stationed troops for Lucheng.

Aside from those listed on the conscription roster, ordinary people were still not allowed to enter or leave Qingping County freely.

The snow was falling heavily. Standing at the gate with her horse and that large bundle, Fan Changyu looked toward the official road stretching far into the distance beyond the gate’s arch.

Her chest felt tight and heavy. Wordlessly, she turned and led the horse back.

Someone bumped into her on the road, and the bundle spilled open. Fan Changyu silently knelt and gathered the scattered things one by one. When she picked up the two packets of dried tangerine peel candy, she pinched out one piece and put it in her mouth.

She thought, It’s just as well I didn’t catch up. These candies are too sour, not as sweet as before. Even if I’d given them to Yan Zheng, he probably wouldn’t have liked them anyway.

After repacking her things, she hung the bundle on the saddle—then rested her head against the saddle for a long time.

How did it end like this?

She was angry with him, yet she hadn’t even said a word of farewell before he was taken away. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she owed him something.

When she returned to town, she happened to see the second group of soldiers escorting a fresh batch of conscripts toward the county seat.

Their families followed behind, weeping as they saw them off. The conscripts themselves had reddened eyes, repeatedly urging their loved ones not to follow any farther.

Fan Changyu spotted the elderly carpenter, Old Zhao, among them.

Unable to help herself, she called out, “Uncle Zhao, why are you going to Lucheng too?”

Old Zhao’s wrinkled face twisted bitterly. “It’s this old fool’s own fault for choosing the wrong trade. When I was young, I was a veterinarian. Now I’m a carpenter. The officers said I could tend the army’s horses and help build their defenses.”

The soldiers cracked their whips, driving the group to hurry on.

Fan Changyu, worried that the old man would collapse from exhaustion on the march, hesitated only a moment before saying, “Uncle Zhao, take this horse!”

The soldiers started to drive her away, but when they heard she was offering a horse, they turned a blind eye.

A horse was a valuable thing—it could carry both people and supplies. If they were attacked, a man on horseback might even escape with his life.

Old Zhao tried to refuse. “This horse is far too precious. How could I take it?”

Fan Changyu handed him the reins. “Please, take it. The bundle has things I prepared for Yan Zheng. I couldn’t catch him. If you reach Lucheng and see him, please give these to him for me.”

Hearing that, Old Zhao didn’t refuse again. His heart ached for the young couple. “Don’t worry,” he said. “As long as these old bones still draw breath, I’ll see that he gets them.”

Fan Changyu watched him disappear down the road before walking back to town on foot. She retrieved her silver and paid for the horse she’d borrowed.

When she went to Madam Zhao’s house to fetch Changning and Yu Bao’er, the old woman was crying even as she thanked Fan Changyu for buying Old Zhao a horse.

If a conscript brought his own horse, it would be counted as his personal property. Upon entering the army, most such men would be assigned to the cavalry.

Even those whose bodies were not strong enough for cavalry duty would not be treated poorly.

After comforting Madam Zhao for a while, Fan Changyu took Changning and Yu Bao’er home. The two children, perhaps sensing the absence of someone in the house, were unusually quiet. Wrapped in this heavy silence, Fan Changyu felt the home had grown strangely cold and empty.

How odd—it wasn’t as though Yan Zheng had been a talkative man.

So why, now that he was gone, did everything suddenly feel different?

Fan Changyu went to the south room to tidy up. She found his writing desk still neat and orderly—there was almost nothing for her to clean.

At one corner of the desk lay a pair of leather wrist guards. Beside them were a file and other small tools, and beneath them, a sheet of paper.

Judging from the size, the wrist guards didn’t seem to be Yan Zheng’s.

She picked up the paper and saw eight characters written upon it: “Joy in your birthday; long happiness, no worries.”

The memory of when Yan Zheng had asked for her birthday suddenly surfaced. Fan Changyu felt as if the wrist guards in her hands weighed a thousand catties.

Lowering her gaze, she examined them closely and noticed that one of the pair seemed to have been newly polished. When she clasped it around her wrist, the leather fit perfectly, snug and smooth against her skin.

When she tried to unfasten the clasp, her hands trembled slightly—whether from the faint pain lingering in the knuckles that had once struck Yan Zheng’s face, or from something deeper, she could not tell. After several failed attempts to undo it, she gave up.

Leaning back in the chair, she stared at the wrist guard upon her hand, dazed, a quiet hollowness spreading in her chest.