Ashes to Crown

Chapter 3: Chapter 3: The Weak Woman

In a cramped room next to the posthouse kitchen, the mixed stench of the stove, cooking food, and sour slop seeped through the walls.

When the young Ah Jiu stepped inside, he immediately raised a hand to cover his nose and mouth, coughing in disgust.

Besides Ah Fu, who had run in earlier, a girl of about fourteen or fifteen stood in the tiny room. She wore the same kind of tattered, padded cotton clothes, had a round face with big, somewhat dazed eyes, and was still holding a ladle, clearly having been helping in the kitchen next door.

"Mother, Mother," Ah Fu knelt before a makeshift plank bed, urgently calling to the woman lying on it. "Some soldiers are heading toward Father’s post, Mother."

The woman, who seemed to be in a deep slumber, slowly woke at the call. Her complexion was sallow, making her look ancient, and her breath was as faint as a silken thread. The moment she awoke, she broke into a fit of sharp coughing.

Ah Fu and the girl holding the ladle scrambled to give her water and pat her back reassuringly.

"Soldier," the coughing seemed to clear the woman’s head, and she looked toward the doorway—

The room was too small to fit the soldiers, and the young Ah Jiu, disgusted by the smell, had stepped back outside after his brief entry.

The woman asked in a trembling voice, "Are you heading to Daqing Mountain Camp?"

Ah Jiu kept his hand over his nose and mouth, his voice muffled. "No, but it’s on our way. What’s your husband’s name, how old is he, and under whose command does he serve—"

He was asking the same questions all over again. Ah Fu, still by the bed, looked over, confused yet timid.

The Posthouse Minister, who was standing at the back to avoid any appearance of impropriety, chuckled inwardly. ’He’s cross-referencing their stories!’

Mrs. Yang answered his questions again, gasping for breath, providing more detail than Ah Fu had, even giving Yang Dachun’s birthdate. She then began fumbling around beside her. "I made a pair of shoes for him. You must take them to him."

Ah Fu quickly pulled a bundle out from under the bedding. "Mother, it’s right here."

This time, the young Ah Jiu didn’t ask to inspect the shoes. His sharp, phoenix-like eyes simply looked down on the woman.

"Let me be blunt. We’re on urgent military business and travel fast. The journey will be hard, and we can’t be responsible for your children," he said, his voice flat. "If they can keep up, they can come. If they can’t, we won’t wait for them."

Mrs. Yang propped herself up on the plank bed and tried to kowtow to him. "Soldier, please, take them as far as you can. Any distance is better. It will get them closer to their father, so it’ll be quicker for him to find them. Otherwise, if they’re left in this remote place, who knows if they’ll even still be here by the time he comes looking... Ah Le, Ah Fu, quickly, kowtow to the soldier—"

Saying so much in one breath exhausted the woman. She lacked the strength to kowtow and began to cough again.

Ah Fu knelt before the soldiers, and the girl holding the large ladle, Ah Le, knelt beside her. They began to kowtow, though Ah Le kept a watchful eye on their mother.

"Mother, Sister and I will definitely keep up. We’ll find Father as fast as we can," Ah Fu cried, clutching the woman’s hand. "We’ll have him come for you."

The woman’s coughing and the girls’ crying filled the room. Outside, the posthouse soldiers who had wives and children of their own felt a pang of sympathy. But to the young Ah Jiu, the scene wasn’t tragic or pitiful—it just made the air feel even more suffocating. He took another step back.

"Alright then. Get your things. We’re not staying the night. We’ll rest for the afternoon and then set off," he said.

The separation was so immediate. A farewell that would very likely be their last. The woman’s grief intensified.

"Oh, soldiers," Mrs. Yang called out to the men in the doorway, weakly raising a hand. Her frail face was a mask of utter despair. "If you are fortunate enough to see my husband, please tell him... tell him I have never regretted being his wife, not even for a moment, even unto death."

It was a declaration that could move heaven and earth; the couple must have shared a deep love. The eyes of several posthouse soldiers began to redden. The young Ah Jiu, however, only furrowed his brow deeper and shot the woman a sharp glance—

"Mother—" Ah Fu threw herself onto the woman, her great, sorrowful sobs cutting off her mother’s lament.

The pain of a husband and wife parting is one thing, but for children to be separated from their mother like this was even more heart-wrenching. The posthouse soldiers couldn’t bear to watch any longer and began to walk away quickly. Seeing the young Ah Jiu still staring, one of them gave him a tug. ’He’s just a kid,’ they thought. ’He’s never experienced life and death, so he doesn’t understand the world’s suffering. He’s just watching their tragedy like it’s some kind of show.’

"We’ve got two more people now. We need to pick out some good horses," Zhang Yibing ordered.

He glanced back at the weeping mother and daughters. The older girl, Ah Le, had moved to the bedside and was crying silently. Though he felt reluctant, he knew he had to urge them on.

"You two should pack as quickly as you can. We’re on a fixed schedule and can’t delay."

Tears streaming down her face, Ah Fu acknowledged his words.

The young Ah Jiu said nothing more, averted his gaze, and followed the others away.

Inside the cramped room, the whimpering sobs gradually subsided, slowly fading into silence.

"Sister, let’s pack our things," Ah Fu said, wiping her tears.

The other girl, Ah Le, put down her ladle with a flustered look. She wanted to start packing but didn’t know where to begin.

"Just bring a couple of changes of clothes," Ah Fu said softly. "Leave the rest for Mother."

The older girl agreed and went to one side to pack a bundle.

The woman lay on the bed, her breath faint. "Don’t leave anything for me. Take it all with you. I... I won’t be needing it..." As she spoke, tears streamed down her face. She looked at the girls, her eyes filled with reluctance, grief, and self-reproach. "You have to take care of yourselves."

Ah Fu’s small hand gripped her mother’s. A tear slid down her cheek as her dark eyes fixed on the woman. "Why did you add that last part just now?"

The woman’s expression stiffened. She subconsciously forced a smile, which, combined with the tears in her eyes, made her look strange and almost comical.

"I’m a dying woman, missing your father, reminiscing about the past—" she murmured, looking at the girl. "It was just a spontaneous overflow of emotion, something I couldn’t control, a love that could move heaven and earth—"

Ah Fu’s voice was flat. "You’re a dying woman. What ’uncontrollable emotions’ could you possibly have!"

The woman seemed to warm to the topic. "Ah Fu, you’re still young, you don’t understand these things. This ’love’—"

"Enough," Ah Fu’s voice dropped as she snapped.

She was only twelve or thirteen, and her voice was still that of a child, but her tone made the woman shut her mouth instantly. She averted her gaze, not daring to meet the girl’s eyes.

The girl’s eyes were somewhat frightening. No longer brimming with tears or hidden by long, lowered lashes, they were as dark and deep as a well.

A strange silence fell over the bedside.

In the cramped room, the other girl packing the bundle by the bed acted as if she hadn’t seen or heard a thing, keeping her head down as she tied the knot.

"Ah Fu—" The Posthouse Minister’s voice called from the doorway.

Ah Fu immediately turned her head, her big, dark eyes clouding over with tears again. "Mr. Xu—"

The Posthouse Minister stepped inside, a smile on his face. "Everything is settled, then. I had them pick out a gentle horse for you."

Ah Fu gave the Posthouse Minister a deep bow. "Thank you, Mr. Xu! Your kindness is immense, Mr. Xu."

The girl was babbling incoherently, unable to find other words, repeating the same phrase over and over.

The other girl could only bow.

It was the woman on the bed who, forcing herself to sit up, spoke. "Your kindness is immense, Mr. Xu. I will spend my next life repaying you."

The Posthouse Minister gestured for her to lie back down. "It was nothing, really. I didn’t do much. You’ve had a stroke of great fortune in the midst of your misfortune, to so quickly run into posthouse soldiers heading for the Border County." He then turned to the two girls. "Keeping up with soldiers on the road will be very hard. You must persevere. But if you truly can’t go on, don’t force it. It would be a waste of all this suffering to lose your lives. As long as you’re alive, you’ll have a chance to see your father."

Tears fell from Ah Fu’s eyes like rain. She bowed her head, pressing her forehead against her hands. "I will live. I will see my father."

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