Chapter 106: Returning Home
This was a war without suspense. In the end, the Ming army’s musketeer unit achieved a complete victory. They paid a light price of only six deaths and a dozen minor injuries, while over three hundred Mongol cavalry were utterly annihilated—more than two hundred killed or wounded, over fifty blown apart or injured by the Dragon King cannons, and only about a dozen horsemen managed to turn and flee.
Wang Pu ordered the bearded commander to leave a hundred-man squad to clean the battlefield, finishing off the wounded Mongols still clinging to life. Then, with four other hundred-man squads, he pursued the fleeing enemy, killing their way to the Mongol camp. Over four hundred soldiers crossed the mountain ridge, revealing the Mongol encampment right before their eyes.
The valley, surrounded on all sides by mountains, was dotted with hundreds of Mongol yurts. Nearby were numerous pens for cattle, sheep, and horses, where herds were confined. The retreating Mongol horsemen had already brought the terrible news back to camp. The elderly, women, and children remaining hurriedly packed and desperately herded their livestock, attempting to flee before the Ming forces arrived.
But all this was in vain—a migration of this scale in such a short time was nothing but wishful thinking.
Wang Pu lightly swept his waist knife forward, and the bearded commander shouted hoarsely, “Attack!”
The four hundred-plus soldiers howled like wolves, their eyes bloodshot, then rolled down the slope with Wang Pu and the bearded commander, charging toward the Mongol camp.
To protect the camp’s elders, women, and children, the dozen or so returning Mongol cavalry howled, brandishing their scimitars in a final, desperate charge. It was heroic but tragic. The four hundred-plus Ming musketeers felled them all with a single volley.
The remaining elders, women, and children, no longer concerned for their livestock, mounted horses and fled. Those caught had no mercy—old or young, all perished under the gunfire. Only a few dozen young Mongol women survived, struggling and screaming as Ming soldiers dragged them into the yurts.
Wang Pu neither stopped nor wished to stop this. His troops had just endured a grueling fortnight-long march. Their spirits and bodies were stretched to the limit. Without a way to relieve their tension, they might lose their reason and become true beasts, beyond even the strict military codes.
More than half an hour later, the main reinforcements arrived at the Mongol camp. Awaiting them were blazing bonfires, barrels of steaming mare’s milk and beef broth, and mutton roasting over flames, fat dripping and sizzling. The starving soldiers, who had subsisted on dry rations for over half a month, surged forward ravenously, scrambling for the meat, some collapsing from exhaustion amid the chaos.
Wang Pu could only smile wryly. It seemed he had expected too much from these men; their discipline had not yet met his standards. On reflection, he accepted it—expecting a group of freezing, starving soldiers to remain composed before fragrant, tender lamb was like expecting lustful men to restrain themselves before a naked beauty.
In such extreme circumstances, restrictions on the soldiers had to be minimal. Otherwise, their frayed nerves might snap. The best approach was to let them eat, drink, revel, howl, and even kill wildly. If necessary, brawls and fights were allowed.
In short, all the bottled-up dark emotions had to be vented. Only then would these men avoid psychological scars, preserve their humanity, and return to Datong with their sanity intact—ready to become the disciplined, iron-blooded warriors Wang Pu required.
---
In the imperial capital, the Forbidden City’s Palace of Heavenly Purity.
The Chongzhen Emperor had just finished reading the urgent dispatch from Zhang Zi’an, sent at a gallop from Datong over six hundred li, detailing the fiery battle. He turned to Wang Cheng’en and said, “Unexpectedly, Datong garrison, despite being short of troops and officers, dared to take the offensive and uproot the Tumet people who threatened the Ming border for nearly a century. They captured vast numbers of cattle, sheep, and horses. Not only did this cover the sixty million silver taels owed to the border troops, but an extra five hundred thousand taels were submitted to the imperial treasury. Ha! It seems Zhang Zi’an has some real talent after all.”
Wang Cheng’en bowed carefully and said in a flattering voice, “Zhang Zi’an is a capable servant indeed. Though fond of money and somewhat reckless, he does have ability. But if not for his courage, he wouldn’t have dared to attack with so few troops. So, I believe it is Your Majesty’s wisdom in appointing Zhang Zi’an to Datong that shows far-sightedness and careful planning.”
“Ha ha ha…” The emperor laughed heartily but shook his head. “But Zhang Zi’an alone couldn’t have orchestrated such a feat. I’m sure he had guidance behind the scenes. Cheng’en, who do you think that guiding hand is?”
“Ah…” Wang Cheng’en shook his head, “I’m not sure, Your Majesty.”
“I know you know but are unwilling to say,” the emperor said with a grunt. “Since you won’t speak, I will. That guiding hand is none other than Wang Pu.”
“Your Majesty is wise,” Wang Cheng’en quickly prostrated himself, banging his head on the floor. “I truly did not consider this.”
“Enough, rise,” the emperor waved him off. “The founder forbade officials and nobles from entangling with border garrisons, but Wang Pu and Zhang Zi’an are exceptions. Wang Pu is noble; Zhang Zi’an is stationed at the border but still a palace servant, not a true regional official. So even if they are connected, it’s not forbidden. I know you want to protect your subordinates and avoid offending the Prince Consort, which is why you concealed this from me. But be honest—was this Datong victory orchestrated by Wang Pu advising Zhang Zi’an?”
Wang Cheng’en banged his head again and wept, “Your Majesty, I truly do not know.”
The emperor nodded thoughtfully. “Then it seems Zhang Zi’an kept even you in the dark.”
By logic, the Datong victory should have delighted the emperor. The soldiers’ arrears were settled. Yet strangely, he showed no joy, only vague unease. Wang Cheng’en was unsure how to read the emperor’s thoughts and cautiously said, “Your Majesty, I will send people to investigate Datong thoroughly.”
“That’s acceptable,” the emperor replied, “but covertly. Zhang Zi’an should remain in command at Datong.”
Wang Cheng’en hurriedly responded, “Your Majesty’s wisdom is unmatched.”
---
At the northern foot of the Yin Mountains.
The Mongol winter camp had become the Ming army’s quarters. Wang Pu’s troops had been stationed here for two full days. After rest, nourished by mutton, mare’s milk wine, and fresh milk, this near-collapsed army finally regained spirit.
But this was no place to remain. They had to leave soon.
The Mongol tribe here was not large but very poor. They had many sheep and goats but few cattle and horses. Wang Pu sensed this tribe was likely Chahar—direct descendants of the last Northern Yuan Khan, Ligdan Khan—arguably the highest-ranking tribe of the Northern Yuan.
Unfortunately, since Huang Taiji conquered Mongolia, the Chahar had become the lowest-ranked tribe, their cattle, women, and pastures seized by others. Most were forced east to the Songnen Plain and the Liao River region, becoming slaves of the Khorchin and Manchu peoples.
This small tribe had stubbornly remained near the Yin Mountains, surviving harsh conditions and likely suffering exploitation, which explained their poverty and scarce cattle and horses—only four or five hundred horses.
Due to the shortage of horses, Wang Pu revived an old idea: the sled.
Sleds had first appeared in Switzerland and had not yet reached the Ming realm. Neither the Ming, Mongols, nor Jurchens knew of sleds.
But Wang Pu knew what a sled was—a simple device, easy to build, and excellent for sliding swiftly and effortlessly over snow. A few dogs could pull four to five hundred pounds; horses were available here, so four or five hundred sleds could drag over two thousand men and their supplies. Marching speed would not be slower than horseback.
With the help of Lü Liu and several bodyguards, Wang Pu finally assembled the first sled.
Its frame was a cube made of twelve wooden beams, about twelve feet long, six feet wide, and two feet high. The bottom had two thick runners extending well ahead of the main frame, their ends scorched with fire then bent upward in an arc. Numerous wooden slats were nailed across the top, creating grids to sit or tie things.
Scarface, the bearded commander, and others gathered around, puzzled by Wang Pu’s tinkering.
Wang Pu clapped his hands and said to the bearded man, “Huzi, bring a horse over.”
“Ah.” The bearded man obeyed, leading a chestnut horse prepared beforehand.
Wang Pu tied the sled to the saddle with two hemp ropes, then mounted and cracked his long whip, calling out, “Huzi, Monk, you five get on.”
The bearded man, Scarface, Tang Sheng, Zhao Xin, and Monk Zhang climbed aboard. Wang Pu flicked the whip and shouted, “Ha!”
The chestnut horse neighed loudly, lifted its hooves, and began running. The sled glided swiftly over the snow. The men watched in amazement as the snowy ground flew backward beneath them.
“This is weird, almost like sorcery,” said the bearded man incredulously. “How can one horse pull six grown men?”
“Pretty fast,” Scarface scratched his head. “Not much slower than riding.”
“Worth a general,” Tang Sheng and the monk looked at Wang Pu with admiration. “He knows more than us.”
After some distance, Wang Pu steered the horse around and returned to camp, then dismounted and said, “Listen up. Take your men and immediately go to the mountain to fell wood. Hurry to build five hundred sleds. Then we can all ride this back to Datong.”
---
Datong, Wang family estate.
Wang Ju and Zhen Youcai had just dismounted when the steward rushed out from the gatehouse, eagerly saying, “Master, Mr. Zhen, you’ve finally returned! For over half a month, Eunuch Zhang has been pacing the Wang family’s doorstep. If you didn’t come back soon, I wouldn’t know how to face him.”
Wang Ju exchanged knowing smiles with Zhen Youcai.
Eunuch Zhang Zi’an was truly anxious. Besides the Wang family, only the Zhao, Li, Yang, Ye, and He families in Shanxi were wealthy. Over a month ago, these five families had jointly taken over all Wang family trade in Shanxi. Only the Wang family’s treasury held enough silver to buy the captured livestock.
But Wang Pu had instructed that the livestock be bought at most at half price. Wang Ju and Zhen Youcai, unwilling to clash with Zhang Zi’an, devised a plan. They traveled to Beitongzhou to avoid Zhang and to buy grain per Wang Pu’s orders.
By the fifteenth year of Chongzhen, grain prices had nearly doubled since the Wanli era. Even so, grain was scarce and expensive in the northern provinces. Wang Ju and Zhen Youcai nearly emptied the grain stores of dozens of shops in Beitongzhou, purchasing fifty thousand shi at a cost of one hundred thousand taels.
Now, they were returning to Datong with the first batch of five thousand shi.
Just as Wang Ju arrived home and had yet to warm his seat, Zhang Zi’an arrived, agitated. Wang Ju hastened to welcome him, washed up, and greeted him warmly: “Ah, Eunuch Zhang, your visit honors this humble home.”
“Master Wang,” Zhang Zi’an bowed, “I am grateful.”
“Not at all,” Wang Ju said hurriedly, “how could a commoner call himself master before you? Bring tea.”
“Master Wang is wealthy in Shanxi, and elder brother to the Prince Consort,” Zhang Zi’an smiled.
“Not at all,” Wang Ju replied hastily. “Our family is nothing without the support of you and the Datong officials.”
“Ha ha,” Zhang Zi’an laughed awkwardly and asked casually, “Master Wang, you seem often away from home?”
“No secrets from you,” Wang Ju said, “I have been conducting a major business deal.”
“Oh?” Zhang Zi’an asked, “May I ask what business requires your personal involvement?”
Wang Ju said, “You know these years the northern provinces have suffered continuous disasters. Our family’s silk, tea, and porcelain trade is failing. Without new income, we face ruin. I had no choice but to sell off unprofitable estates and raise capital to buy grain in Beitongzhou. I expect grain to sell well these years.”
---
“A bit of grain?” Zhang Zi’an’s heart jumped. “How much, Master Wang?”
Wang Ju held up five fingers.
“Five thousand shi?” Zhang Zi’an asked.
Wang Ju shook his head.
“Fifty thousand shi?” Zhang Zi’an’s voice rose.
Still no.
“Five hundred thousand shi?” Zhang Zi’an stood abruptly.
Only then did Wang Ju nod with a smile.
“Ah!” Zhang Zi’an stomped his foot, frustrated. Wang Ju’s stockpile of half a million shi must have cost over one million taels of silver at market price. The Wang family might not have enough cash left to buy the entire livestock. What to do?
Feigning surprise, Wang Ju asked, “What’s the matter, Eunuch?”
Zhang Zi’an, burning with anxiety, spoke plainly: “Master Wang, let me be frank. A month ago, the border troops captured a vast number of livestock from the Tumet. Because of the huge quantity, we can’t handle it all at once. We ask you to buy them at market price, helping the court and relieving our urgent need.”
Wang Ju replied, “I am willing to help. How much silver should I prepare?”
Zhang Zi’an said solemnly, “Two million taels.”
“Ah?” Wang Ju was shocked. “Two... two million taels!?”
Seeing Wang Ju’s expression, a dark cloud passed over Zhang Zi’an’s brow. “Master Wang, your family is wealthy in Shanxi. Surely you can provide this much silver?”
Wang Ju lamented, “Eunuch Zhang, I recently sold all the family’s holdings and barely raised two million taels. Nearly 1.2 million taels were spent buying grain in Beitongzhou. I truly cannot provide that much silver now.”
Zhang Zi’an asked urgently, “How much silver can you provide?”
Wang Ju said, “Only six hundred thousand taels in the treasury.”
“That’s far too little,” Zhang Zi’an stamped his foot. “Far too little.”
Wang Ju whispered, “Eunuch, may I speak frankly?”
“Speak freely.”
“These livestock, priced at market value, would cost two million taels. Their number must be over a million heads. No one can consume so many at once! Selling so many cattle and sheep will take a long time. Before that, one must buy fodder to feed them. If unscrupulous suppliers raise prices or the livestock sell poorly, fodder costs alone could exceed the livestock’s value. That’s a total loss.”
Zhang Zi’an frowned but said nothing. He had only recently realized this problem.
Capturing over 800,000 livestock from the Tumet had brought joy, but the challenges followed quickly. These animals grazed on the steppe, but Datong lacked sufficient pasture. They couldn’t drive the beasts back to the grasslands. Feeding so many meant staggering daily fodder costs. Over a month, no silver had come in, but Zhang Zi’an owed fodder merchants tens of thousands of taels.
“Eunuch Zhang,” Wang Ju said softly, “I advise you to handle these livestock quickly, or the fodder costs alone will bankrupt you.”
Zhang Zi’an asked, “Then what price can you offer?”
Wang Ju said, “If I take all your livestock, the price cannot exceed 800,000 taels, or I’d lose money.”
“What?” Zhang Zi’an scowled. “Eight hundred thousand?”
This was far below Zhang’s expectation. Wang Ju’s 800,000 plus the other five families’ promised 200,000 made only a million. The arrears and palace tribute totaled 1.1 million taels. Zhang would still lose money.
He regretted asking for imperial favor.
“Eunuch Zhang,” Wang Ju sighed, “I also have difficulties. You can’t expect me to lose the family fortune at once.”
“Eight hundred thousand is too low,” Zhang Zi’an said, “How about 1.5 million?”
Wang Ju shook his head, “At most 820,000.”
Zhang Zi’an clenched his teeth, “One point three million!”
Wang Ju grimaced, “Eighty-five hundred thousand!”
Zhang Zi’an’s face twitched. Resolute, he said, “One point two million!”
“Eunuch Zhang, I’m not trying to lowball you. I’ve exhausted all reserves. I truly only have eighty-five hundred thousand,” Wang Ju said, then suddenly remembered something. “But if you can persuade my third brother to lend me funds, I could pay 1.2 million.”
“Prince Consort?” Zhang Zi’an was surprised. “Last time he said he had no silver.”
“That’s true,” Wang Ju explained. “When you last saw him, he had no cash. But he still had some ginseng and eastern pearls taken from Liaodong. I helped him sell those in the capital and got 400,000 taels.”
“I see,” Zhang Zi’an nodded. “But he’s your brother. Wouldn’t he lend you some silver?”
“Don’t mention it,” Wang Ju sighed. “If he were willing, I wouldn’t have had to sell the family estate. Before leaving, he warned me the money is from his men’s lives in Liaodong and must be used only for military pay and pensions. Only you can persuade him, and it must be for the court’s sake, or he won’t lend.”
Zhang Zi’an hesitated, “But the Prince Consort hasn’t returned yet.”
“Mr. Zhen has returned,” Wang Ju replied. “You can meet him.”
“Where is Mr. Zhen? I’ll see him now.”
“Please wait,” Wang Ju said. “I’ll send for him.”
The steward left and shortly returned with Zhen Youcai, who bowed deeply and said, “I am Zhen Youcai, greetings to Eunuch Zhang.”
“Please, no formalities,” Zhang Zi’an replied.
Wang Ju gestured, “Mr. Zhen, please sit.”
“Thank you, master.”
Wang Ju looked at Zhang Zi’an, “Mr. Zhen, I wished to discuss something with you.”
“Please speak, master,” Mr. Zhen replied respectfully.
“The matter is this: You led the Datong border troops to defeat the Tumet in the south desert and captured many livestock. I want to buy them but lack sufficient cash. I’d like to borrow 350,000 taels from my third brother’s treasury. Is that possible?”
Mr. Zhen said, “Since master is the general’s elder brother, and this concerns the Eunuch, which is court business, both personally and officially, I should agree. But before I returned, the general repeatedly instructed that the money is from his men’s lives and cannot be used without his permission. I am in a difficult position.”
Zhang Zi’an smiled briefly at the first half but frowned at the latter.
Wang Ju whispered, “Mr. Zhen, can you make an exception?”
Mr. Zhen chose his words carefully, “It’s not that I cannot, but I don’t know how to phrase it.”
“Please speak freely,” Wang Ju encouraged.
Mr. Zhen said, “The general’s treasury holds funds intended for pensions for the fallen soldiers’ families. If the money is lent, compensation must be made to those families. I think the best solution is to find them work, giving them long-term hope.”
“How so?”
“I’ve learned that in Datong, few places can employ many. Only three weapons workshops and two gunpowder factories under the Eunuch’s name are idle and could employ many. If I can arrange for the families to work there, the pension money can be used temporarily without complaints, and the general would not blame me on his return.”
Wang Ju feigned difficulty, looking at Zhang Zi’an.
“Oh, I thought it was something hard,” Zhang said dismissively. “No problem. Tomorrow I’ll have the supervisors approach you. From tomorrow, you will manage the three weapons workshops and two gunpowder factories. But keep it discreet. Accounts must be clear so no one complains or the court investigates, and the border troops’ quotas must be paid in full.”
Zhang Zi’an truly took charge of this matter.
Though these workshops and factories were official, no one distinguished between state and private management anymore. The Ming often secretly handed official workshops to private operators, as the Ministry of Works’ allocations were insufficient for operations.
Zhang had struggled to find suitable managers but now Mr. Zhen had come forward and solved both the livestock payment and management issues.
---
After resting five days at the Yin Mountains’ northern foot, Wang Pu led his army toward Datong.
This march was much smoother. The Mongols on the grassland had retreated to their winter camps. In such freezing weather, even if they knew a Ming army roamed the southern desert, they couldn’t assemble large forces. Small groups dared not provoke them.
With ample supplies from the Chahar camp and Wang Pu’s sleds sparing the soldiers from snow marching hardships, the army leisurely returned to the Ming border.
---
At the Mopanshan Pass, a hundred-man border garrison was stationed.
That morning, two guards with spears approached the gate nervously. Suddenly, a strange roar came from the vast northern snowfields. Though distant, the sound was imposing, as if many were shouting simultaneously.
“Not good, Mongol barbarians!” one sentry’s face changed. He grabbed an iron rod and hammered the iron plate hanging at the gate fiercely. The clear “clang clang” echoed throughout the pass.
Sleeping soldiers inside awoke, hastily donning clothes and rushing to the gate with weapons.
“What’s going on?” the captain barked, slapping his helmet on. “Mongols?”
The sentry replied quietly, “Seems so.”
“What do you mean ‘seems’?” the captain roared and slapped the sentry in the face. “Yes or no?”
The sentry pointed north and groaned, “Captain, listen to that.”
The captain and soldiers heard the sound clearer now. The captain’s expression grew strange as he recited along: “The banner flutters, the horses neigh, guns on shoulder, swords at waist…”
“Not Mongols,” the captain frowned. “They’re speaking our Ming language.”
“Captain, look! It’s our Ming army!”
A sharp-eyed soldier shouted, pointing.
The captain and soldiers looked in that direction and saw a ragged Ming army emerging from behind the ridge. Their clothes were tattered, hair and beards wild, but their spirits were high, marching proudly as if freshly victorious.
At the front flew a tattered off-white banner, frayed and stained, with a dark red cross painted on it. The design was puzzling—neither the Ming national flag nor a general’s emblem, simply indecipherable.
This was Wang Pu’s army. Mopanshan Pass lay amid mountains; to pass, they had to cross several ridges. The sleds glided swiftly on flats, but uphill a single horse could not pull several grown men. Wang Pu ordered the men to march on foot.
Looking at the towering pass ahead, Wang Pu felt a flood of emotions. From the first day of the lunar new year until now, a full month had passed. This month was an unprecedented trial for Wang Pu and his troops. Thankfully, they endured and had returned.
Though suffering heavy casualties, it was worth it.
When departing the border, Wang Pu had over four thousand men. Including Zhao Xin’s thousand reinforcements, over five thousand in total. Now only about two thousand four hundred remained—a loss of more than half. A heavy toll.
Yet Wang Pu had no regrets. This outcome was better than expected.
His goal was to train these battle-hardened, defeated veterans into confident elite soldiers, absolutely loyal to him. He expected to keep only a thousand of the over four thousand. Better a thousand trained, well-equipped, obedient troops than five thousand demoralized, poorly armed, disobedient veterans.
This campaign was a cruel, ruthless selection. Weak bodies and poor soldiers were mercilessly culled, leaving two thousand four hundred tough, highly skilled veterans—elite among elites. Wang Pu believed one such soldier was worth ten ordinary men on the battlefield.
A loud shout pulled Wang Pu back to reality.
“Stop!” the pass captain shouted. “No closer! Any closer and we’ll shoot arrows!”
At his command, over a hundred border soldiers drew bows, aiming at the ragged group like beggars outside the gate.
Scarface ignored the threat. Striding to the gate, he shouted, “Damn you! Open this gate now! Tell your men to lower their bows. One more arrow and I’ll tear your heads off for chamber pots!”
The soldiers froze, stunned by his audacity, then glanced at their captain. He too was dumbfounded but waved them to lower bows and cautiously asked, “Who are you?”
“Who? I’m from the capital garrison!” Scarface growled.
“What?” The captain was baffled. “How did the capital garrison get here?”
“Open the gate or I’ll break in!” Scarface roared.
A young soldier whispered to the captain, “Captain, the capital’s commander, the Prince Consort, is on leave. These might be his men.”
“Oh, right, how did I forget?” The captain slapped himself and ordered, “Hurry, open the gate!”
---
Datong, residence of the garrison eunuch Zhang Zi’an.
Zhang sat in the warm chamber, staring blankly at twelve rows of silver chests. The livestock captured from the Tumet had finally been sold—most to the Wang family, some to five other families—yielding 1.4 million taels of silver. Zhang had never seen so much silver in his life.
But thinking of the soldiers’ bonuses, arrears, pensions, and the palace tribute of five hundred thousand, little silver remained. His heart ached—so much silver quickly vanished into others’ hands.
Just then, a young eunuch’s voice called out: “Godfather, I have urgent news.”
“Wait outside. I’ll be right out.”
Zhang sealed the chests and asked, “So late—what is it?”
The eunuch said, “Godfather, I heard rumors that palace people arrived at the Prince Consort’s mansion.”
“Palace people?” Zhang’s expression shifted. “Why come to the Prince Consort, not me?”
“Probably someone reported the Prince Consort’s military aid to you to the emperor and ancestors. So they sent people to investigate.”
“Let them investigate,” Zhang said coldly. “We’ve done nothing against the emperor. Our campaign against the Tumet is no exaggeration. The Tumet khan’s head and sword have been presented to the palace. The Prince Consort merely assisted, leading Wang family retainers, not official border troops. According to Ming law, officers on mourning leave cannot lead troops, but the law doesn’t forbid them from protecting their homes with retainers.”
Zhang was unafraid. He and Wang Pu had agreed: only two hundred men followed Wang Pu on the raid, all Wang family retainers. As for the three thousand elite border troops chosen by Tang Sheng, they perished due to recklessness.
As long as Wang Pu kept silent and survivors hid, no one could find fault. Even if others suspected foul play, without evidence, what could they do? Wang Pu would never reveal it—he’d be the first to suffer.
“Yes, yes,” the eunuch said quickly. “The campaign was your strategy, and the Prince Consort only assisted with family retainers. Besides, the campaign protected Datong’s people. The Wang family is wealthy in Shanxi and supports the court with thousands of retainers.”
“That’s the truth.”
“By the way,” the eunuch said, “I heard the Prince Consort has returned.”
“Returned? Why didn’t you say so earlier?”
“I just learned it and rushed to report.”
“Hurry prepare the warm carriage...” Zhang began to rise, then sat again. “No, he must be tired. Let him rest tonight.”
---
Wang family estate, warm chamber.
Well past midnight, Chen Yuanyuan and Nennian sat cutting paper patterns. Chen had just made a pair of mandarin ducks playing in water. Nennian admired her skill and said softly, “Mistress, your hands are so skillful. The cutouts are beautiful.”
Chen smiled, “Nennian, do you want to learn?”
Nennian nodded eagerly, “Yes.”
Just as Chen picked up paper and scissors to demonstrate, the chamber door suddenly opened. A voice, joyful and eager, rang through the room: “Wife!”
Chen’s hand holding the scissors trembled, nearly pricking herself. Turning, she saw the man she had longed for countless times standing calmly before her. Yet, upon seeing Wang Pu, she almost failed to recognize him—his clothes ragged, hood messy, beard unkempt—but his eyes remained bright and piercing, gazing steadily at her.
“Husband.”
Chen cried sadly, ignoring his dirt and odor, throwing herself into his arms. Her heart was already torn; tears streamed like pearls from her eyes. She thought silently: Wang Pu must have suffered greatly to be in this state...