Volume One: The Dragon Rises from the Wild Chapter Fifty-Seven: Beimang Village

Beiyang Village.

A small village nestled by a river bend.

Home to just twenty or thirty families, it stood remote and isolated from any town, yet was ringed by lush forests and flowing waters, its scenery serene and lovely.

It was afternoon.

A woman led a child to the riverside outside the village.

She was in her late twenties or thirties, with delicate features and plain, tidy attire. In her hand, she carried a bamboo basket, in which a few live fish wriggled.

Trailing behind her was a girl of six or seven, a wildflower tucked behind her ear, chasing butterflies along the riverbank and filling the air with her silvery laughter.

The woman paused by the water, reached into the basket, and set a fish free into the river.

The fish, with a splash, darted away.

The little girl ran over, her braids swinging. Her cheeks were rosy with sweat, and her large, sparkling eyes brimmed with curiosity.

“Mother, why do you let the fish go after buying them?”

“It’s an act of mercy.”

“You’re always talking about setting things free. Will Father come home because of it?”

“Your father spends his days fighting and killing—who knows how many sins he’s carried? If I free a living fish, perhaps it lessens his burden just a bit. The gods above will see our sincerity, and let your father return home safely.”

“Mother, let me help you…”

Mother and daughter were performing a ritual of release.

A life for a life? Could freeing a fish really atone for a single sin?

If only it were so. The old texts say all beings are equal, but in the end, such acts are but prayers. The same texts also say the heavens are indifferent, and all creatures mere straw dogs. The strife and sorrow of mortals, their grudges and bonds, their lives and deaths—none of it concerns the gods.

Why else do the kindly, honest folk of Yu Family Village suffer slaughter and injustice, their grievances unavenged to this day?

Just as these two wait and hope, faithful and sincere, the man they long for has long since found eternal rest in some wild, unmarked grave.

Beneath the shade of riverside trees stood a youth in silence.

Beside him, a sturdy black horse. In the saddlebag, the hilt of a long sword wrapped in cloth could be seen.

He had spent the night meditating under the open sky and set out at dawn. Before leaving, he confirmed his direction and asked for the way. Past midday, he arrived at this small mountain village, and now had come to the riverbank, drawn there by the mother and daughter performing their ritual.

Yet he found himself unwilling to disturb them.

After a while, the basket was empty. The woman, her child in tow, turned to head back. Spotting the figure and horse beneath the trees, she paused in surprise and made to take a different path. The child, however, waved cheerfully, her face bright with vitality.

The youth hesitated, then raised his hands in a respectful bow and called out, “I am Yu Ye. Brother Feng the Seventh entrusted me to visit Beiyang Village and look in on Sister-in-law Xiuzhen and little Wan’er!”

“Ah…”

The woman called Xiuzhen hurried forward a step, then set down her basket and retreated a pace, bowing in confusion. “You… you’re my husband’s friend? He sent you to visit us?”

Yu Ye straightened. “Exactly so.”

“Oh—”

Xiuzhen gasped in delighted disbelief, tears glimmering in her eyes. She wiped them away, offering an apologetic smile as she gently urged, “Wan’er, greet your uncle!”

Before Feng the Seventh died, he had mentioned only one name—Wan’er. The name of his wife, Xiuzhen, Yu Ye had learned only upon arriving at the village.

The child, unburdened by shyness, bounced over to Yu Ye, clutching his sleeve. “Uncle, when will my father come home?”

“Well…”

Yu Ye faltered.

“Wan’er!”

Xiuzhen chided with a loving smile. “Your uncle’s had a long journey. Take him home to rest first!”

“Alright!”

With a wave, Wan’er skipped ahead.

Yu Ye gestured for them to lead the way.

Xiuzhen lifted her basket, nodding with a luminous smile—perhaps joy lent her such radiance and vigor that she seemed to float as she walked ahead.

Yu Ye led his horse behind them.

—

“Brother Yu, is Seventh Brother well?”

“He’s… he’s very well!”

“He’s been gone more than two years now and hasn’t returned. Why doesn’t he come home himself, and instead trouble you for this journey?”

“Well… Brother Feng is tied up with important matters.”

Xiuzhen chatted as she led the way, turning back now and then.

Yu Ye answered lightly, feigning ease.

He had thought that, upon finding Feng the Seventh’s wife and child, he would simply deliver the truth and the money, and leave. But upon hearing the conversation between mother and daughter by the river, his heart grew heavy.

How could he tell them the truth?

Seeing their faces alight with hope and happiness, he could not bring himself to reveal that Feng the Seventh was gone. He feared the news would break them, could not bear to shatter their dreams.

He truly could not speak.

They walked a narrow path between fields to the south end of the village.

A row of stone houses came into view.

To the east, a woodshed and well; beneath a great tree to the west, a chicken and duck coop, and a small garden for flowers and greens. Before the house, a simple stone table and some wooden stools.

This was Feng the Seventh’s home—plain, tidy, and full of warmth. Though without a courtyard, it blended harmoniously into the surrounding countryside.

“Brother Yu, you’re home now—come in, don’t be a stranger!”

Xiuzhen called cheerfully. “Wan’er, pour your uncle a cup of water!”

Yu Ye tied his horse beneath the tree.

Xiuzhen set down the fish basket, hurried into the house, reemerging with an apron around her waist. She ducked into the woodshed, calling out, “Brother Yu, rest a while. I’ll prepare food and drink to welcome you!”

“Sister-in-law…”

Yu Ye wanted to refuse, but could not find the words.

“Uncle, have some water!”

Wan’er brought a water jug and cup to the table, busily serving her guest.

“Thank you.”

Yu Ye rubbed his hands, uneasy. If he’d known there was a child, he would have brought a gift. He turned away for a moment, producing a small box from his sleeve, then sat at the table, opening it to reveal sweet-scented osmanthus cakes.

Wan’er glanced back, took the cake, and said sweetly, “Thank you, Uncle!”

At last, Yu Ye managed a faint smile.

The cakes were a gift from Manager Kuang’s daughter; though only a few remained, they brought this little girl boundless joy.

Sometimes, happiness is simple.

“Is it tasty?”

“Mhm, delicious!”

Wan’er nibbled her cake, nestling trustingly against Yu Ye, savoring its sweetness and the joy of news from her father.

Yu Ye stroked her braids, wanting to make small talk, to share in her happiness, but his throat tightened and his smile froze. He could only sip his water in silence, watching the smoke rise from the woodshed, gazing at the familiar pastoral scene.

After a while, Xiuzhen brought out the food.

Two plates of vegetables, a dish of salted pork, one of pickled eggs, a jar of old wine, and several steaming hot cakes.

“You must be starving, Brother Yu!”

Xiuzhen sat Yu Ye at the north end of the table.

“When Seventh Brother was home, he’d sit right here. Wan’er and I would keep him company as he drank, listening to his tales of the world.”

Yu Ye sat stiffly; he wasn’t hungry at all.

“Your brother’s home is your home. Now that you’re here, don’t be shy!”

Xiuzhen filled his cup.

“Sister-in-law, I don’t drink…”

Yu Ye tried to refuse.

“What man doesn’t drink?”

—

Still, Xiuzhen set the cup before him with a smile. “That’s what Seventh Brother always said—you know his temper!” She handed Wan’er a peeled egg, then said, “I wonder what keeps him so busy he can’t come home! Brother Yu, tell me, what’s he up to?”

Yu Ye lowered his head in silence, reaching for the wine.

Xiuzhen handed him a cake and an egg, urging gently, “Drinking on an empty stomach is bad for you—eat something first.”

Yu Ye accepted the food and ate heartily.

“Just look at you—so hungry!”

Xiuzhen’s voice was full of concern. “Slow down, you’ll choke.”

Wan’er giggled at his side.

“I don’t know what business Seventh Brother is in, but I know it’s dangerous. Wan’er and I worry for him every day, afraid something will happen. And you, so young, already wandering the world—aren’t you afraid your parents will worry?”

As she spoke, Xiuzhen slipped chopsticks into Yu Ye’s hand.

“These vegetables I grew, this meat I cured—try them, brother!”

“Mmm…”

Yu Ye ate as if truly famished, his mouth full.

Xiuzhen went on, telling stories of her life with Feng the Seventh, village gossip, how Wan’er longed for her father’s return, and more. Perhaps she was lonely with longing, with grievances she could not voice. Now, at last, she could pour out her heart, trusting Yu Ye to carry her words to the man who wandered far from home, hoping it would hasten his return.

Twilight fell.

The dishes on the table were empty.

Xiuzhen and Wan’er had hardly touched their food; most of it had gone to their guest, yet they didn’t mind—in fact, they seemed all the more hopeful.

“Uncle, when will my father come home?”

“Brother Yu, please tell me the truth—where is Seventh Brother? Has he run into trouble?”

Yu Ye set down his chopsticks, looking uneasy.

He had used the meal as an excuse to avoid speaking, but now, with the food gone, he still could not face their expectant eyes.

One cup of wine remained before him.

He bowed his head for a moment, then drained it in one gulp. The fiery liquor burned down his throat, sending heat rushing through him. His face reddened; he broke into a violent cough—

“Cough, cough…”

“Oh dear, you’ve choked!”

Xiuzhen hurried to pat his back, Wan’er lending her tiny hands as well.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Yu Ye gestured. “Sister-in-law, listen to me—”

Both Xiuzhen and Wan’er nodded eagerly.

“Brother Feng has gone overseas, and won’t return for three to five years, perhaps…”

“He’s gone to sea? Three or five years is nothing; we’ll wait for him!”

“Perhaps eight, ten years…”

“Ah—”

Yu Ye seized the wine jar and drank straight from the mouth, gulp after gulp.

Xiuzhen and Wan’er shrank back in alarm.

With a thud, Yu Ye set the jar down, his face flushed and splashed with wine. He paid it no mind, grinning as he said, “I’m only speaking offhand, Sister-in-law—no need to worry. The journey overseas is long, and Brother Feng’s return is uncertain. He asked me to bring you money—enough for you and Wan’er to live in comfort all your lives. He also sent a message: he wants you to look after Wan’er and live well.”

He exhaled, relieved, then swept his sleeve. With a heavy thump, five leather bags landed on the ground before him.

“Sister-in-law, this is—”

Before he could finish, the wine overcame him; he slumped to the ground, unconscious.