When Duan Yan held the soft little bundle in his arms, it felt almost like a dream.
He looked down at the tiny face, no bigger than his palm, wrapped in swaddling clothes. The baby’s delicate skin was flushed with the rosy hue of new life, like a tender bud just sprouting in spring.
Two crystal-clear tears still clung to the little bud’s cheeks. His pale, fine lashes were damp, as though he had briefly glimpsed the world after leaving his mother’s womb before peacefully drifting back to sleep.
Duan Yan could hardly believe how light the baby was. He felt less like a heavy bundle of flesh and blood and more like a little ball of cotton that could breathe and cry—far too soft!
“The young master isn’t light at all,” the midwife said with a delighted smile. “This old woman has helped deliver many babies, and I’d estimate the young master weighs six or seven jin. He’s sturdy, yet he didn’t give his mother too much trouble. It’s the young master’s first time giving birth, but everything went remarkably smoothly.”
Mu Linghui added, “The child is indeed strong. When Sui Sui was born, he weighed only five jin—such a tiny thing that everyone in the family was worried sick.”
The smile on Duan Yan’s face grew even gentler. He turned and held the little one out for Song Fengsui, who was sitting propped up against the bed, to see.
Song Fengsui had only just given birth. There was little color in his lips, and his weakness was plain to see. Yet when he saw the healthy child, his heart filled with immeasurable relief and warmth.
The midwife had been right. The little rascal had tormented him plenty while still in the womb, but had been quite well-behaved during birth, sparing him too much suffering.
Though Song Fengsui was weak after giving birth, he still had plenty of energy.
The young couple spent a while by the bed, holding the baby and teasing him. Then they passed him around to Song Wushen, Song Xuemu, and the others. Everyone in the room gazed at the child, smiling tenderly as they remarked that his brows and eyes resembled Duan Yan’s, while his mouth and nose looked like Young Master Song’s. The night grew deeper, but no one’s joy could be concealed.
Now that the birth had gone smoothly, they rewarded the midwife and the others who had come to help, then sent word to Yan Town in the middle of the night, informing Duan Yan’s parents and Song’s grandfather of the happy news.
“So it’s a little boy after all.”
Several lamps had been extinguished, and the brightly lit residence had finally returned to the quiet of night.
Song Fengsui lay nestled in Duan Yan’s arms. His eyelids were growing heavy, but his mind remained excited, and he could not fall asleep.
“He was so troublesome while I was carrying him. I couldn’t eat this and couldn’t stand the smell of that. I thought he might be a bit delicate, so I wondered whether he’d be a ger or a girl.”
Duan Yan held him gently. Whenever he thought of the child, the warm smile on his face remained. After the turmoil had passed and everything had quieted down, his voice had somehow turned slightly hoarse.
“Whether he were a ger or a boy, I would have loved him all the same. But you were the one who suffered.”
He rubbed his chin against the crown of Song Fengsui’s head. Love, joy, pity, and heartache tangled together in his chest, leaving his emotions impossible to describe.
“It wasn’t really that painful. Before the little rascal was born, I didn’t feel any warning at all. I only felt unusually relaxed. Once they said he was coming, he really did come. I wasn’t startled or frightened even once.”
Song Fengsui reached down and touched his belly. His stomach had not been very large when he carried A-Ji, and now that the baby had left his womb, it still had not flattened. It remained round and full.
Duan Yan understood what he was thinking. He covered the hand rubbing his abdomen with his own.
“It’ll take a while to return to normal. Don’t think about such things. The most important thing now is to rest and recover properly.”
Song Fengsui gave a quiet hum and buried his head against Duan Yan’s chest. He closed his eyes, intending to sleep, but after only a short while, he opened them again and poked Duan Yan on the chin.
“I miss A-Ji again.”
Duan Yan lowered his head and kissed the fingertip against his chin.
“Then I’ll go bring him here.”
The next day, when Song Fengsui awoke, the sky was gray and dim. He thought it was still early, but once the haze of sleep had cleared, he realized that it had begun to rain—a rare occurrence.
An autumn rain brought another touch of cold. He instinctively pulled the thin quilt closer around himself.
An Ge’er came in and told him that it was already past noon.
Song Fengsui wondered how he had slept for so long, but after calculating carefully, he realized that he had not slept for all that many hours.
A-Ji had been born in the latter half of the previous night. After everything was cleaned up and he had lain down, Song Fengsui still could not sleep. He had talked with Duan Yan for quite some time, then had the baby brought back from the wet nurse so he could hold him and look at him for a while. By the time he finally went to sleep, dawn was already close.
An Ge’er helped him dress in a thicker garment and tied a headscarf around him.
Song Fengsui turned his head from side to side before the bronze mirror, looking at the extra strip of fabric across his forehead. He was told it was worn to keep out the cold and prevent chills after childbirth. He had once visited the wives of wealthy families after they had given birth and had seen them dressed in much the same way.
He put it on as instructed, though it felt rather strange.
He was already twenty, but his features were youthful and delicate. Not only did he look younger than his age, he even seemed somewhat boyish. With the silk headscarf embroidered with clouds and lotus flowers, however, he suddenly looked much more dignified.
Song Fengsui let out a quiet laugh at his reflection. The sound had barely faded when Duan Yan’s mother heard it and entered the room to see him.
The Duan family’s elders had been overjoyed when they received the news the previous night, though they had immediately begun blaming each other. Duan Yan’s father said that his wife should have come earlier to take care of Song Fengsui. Their eldest grandson had already been born, yet they had only just received word.
Before the sky had even brightened that morning, they had set out in the rain, bringing Song’s grandfather with them in the carriage.
The three elders had been outside looking at the baby, taking turns holding him—one taking him from another. In the end, they had nearly started fighting over him, none of them able to bear being apart from him for even a moment. They adored him.
Duan Yan’s mother was the first to step away when she learned that Song Fengsui had awakened.
“Grandfather came too? It’s raining outside. Did Father and Mother get wet on the way here?”
“The rain isn’t heavy. Even if it were a summer storm, we would still have come,” Duan Yan’s mother said, her face glowing with happiness. “How could we bear not to come and see the child? He’s such a handsome boy, and he looks like you. He’s sturdy and strong, just like Dalong.”
After praising the child’s many virtues, she carefully asked about Song Fengsui’s condition. The elders had also brought several nourishing foods and tonics suitable for the postpartum period.
They talked for quite a while. Only after seeing Song’s grandfather and Duan Yan’s father did Song Fengsui eat something.
Just then, Duan Yan returned on horseback, wearing a bamboo hat. He had gone out early to see Nine-Beard and the others off, then stopped by home. When he saw that Song Fengsui was still asleep, he had taken a look at the baby before heading to the administrative office and the training grounds.
“How are you feeling today? Is anything bothering you? Is there anything you’d like to eat?”
As soon as Duan Yan returned, he went straight to the courtyard to see him.
Song Fengsui listened to the string of questions and shook his head. His body was naturally a little uncomfortable, but it was not unbearable. As for food and drink… the pigeon soup he was currently drinking had been put on to simmer by Duan Yan when he had come home earlier that morning.
Duan Yan removed his bamboo hat, still carrying the damp chill of the autumn rain, and sat down beside him with a smile.
The weather had grown cooler day by day since late autumn. It was difficult to predict what the heavens had in store, and no one knew whether there would be another severe snow disaster that year. But having learned from the previous winter, the households had stocked up on firewood during the summer and stored enough charcoal. Even if another freeze came, they would not be as flustered as they had been the year before.
Order prevailed throughout the town, and the refugees had been settled one by one. Life had suddenly become leisurely.
Every day, once Duan Yan had finished the work at hand, what he most looked forward to was returning home to see his husband and child.
Song Fengsui had taken good care of himself during his postpartum month and recovered quickly. By the time the month was over, he’d put on a little weight. Before the baby’s first-month celebration, the little one spent his days eating his fill, then sleeping, and waking up ready to eat again. He’d grown quite a bit, too.
They held a modest banquet at home to celebrate the baby’s first month, setting out a few tables of food.
In his cradle, the little fellow kicked his chubby legs and clenched his tiny hands into firm little buns. Lying in a soft blanket, he gazed up at the visitors with round, grape-black eyes, cooing, “Ah,” and “Oh.”
He’d lost the newborn redness of his skin and grown fairer by the day. Though still tiny, he was already soft and adorable.
Third Son Qian had made a special trip over from Yan Town for the feast. After looking the baby over, he gave a satisfied click of his tongue.
He clapped Duan Yan on the shoulder as though sharing in the credit. “See? I told you it wouldn’t lead you astray. The wisdom of the old-timers is tried and true.”
Duan Yan brushed his hand off his shoulder. “Get lost.”
“Hey, when are you going to stop being such a fair-weather friend? If I hadn’t passed on my experience, and you hadn’t figured out how to take proper care of Young Master Song, would you two have this plump, healthy little lad?”
Duan Yan cursed at him and told him to get out of the way.
“My big, healthy boy grew up strong and sweet all on his own. Don’t go taking credit.”
The two men bickered and scuffled, making everyone in the room laugh.
Life was peaceful, and the days flew by. In the blink of an eye, winter arrived, bringing the first snowfall to the area around Kang County.
The snow fell lightly, drifting down like willow fluff that had been torn to pieces.
As Duan Yan stayed by Song Fengsui and the baby, watching the days pass one by one, it was hard not to worry.
Song Fengsui had been entertaining A-Ji with a rattle. When he saw Duan Yan staring out the window at the snow, lost in thought, he knew what was troubling him.
“Still no word?”
Duan Yan came back to himself. “Yueqian sent word that they made it safely out of Shu and entered Qianzhou. But it’s been nearly a month by now. Even with the roads in poor condition, they should’ve arrived.”
With the snow falling, every day’s delay would make the roads into the Red Mountain region harder to travel.
Duan Yan had long ago prepared the grain to exchange for salt, but no one had arrived with the salt to take it away.
“Salt isn’t worth much in Shu, but it’s scarce in Qianzhou right now. And with all the rain in early autumn, it’s no surprise the journey has been difficult,” Song Fengsui said. “Have you sent anyone out to ask around?”
“Brother Bai has been keeping in close contact. A couple of days ago, he secretly sent some men toward Kang County to meet them.”
They were still discussing the salt when Gou San'er hurried in from outside. He came into the courtyard with urgent news on the tip of his tongue, but when he saw Song Fengsui holding the young master, he swallowed it. Then he looked at Duan Yan.
Duan Yan saw how urgent it was. Now that the child had been born, there was no need to worry about upsetting Song Fengsui with bad news or concealing things from him. “Whatever it is, just say it.”
Gou San'er spoke at once. “The men we sent out a couple of days ago are back.”
“The batch of salt Nine-Beard got for us… The county seized it near Kang County!”
Duan Yan’s brow snapped into a frown. “The county took our salt?!”
“Yeah.”
The men had returned battered and in sorry shape. They’d fought the county’s men, but they were outnumbered and had barely made it back alive.
Gou San'er was furious, too. They’d worked so hard to get the salt, and now, just as it was almost at their doorstep, it had been snatched away by bandits from the outside. How could anyone not be angry?
Song Fengsui’s brows knit together as well. He took Duan Yan’s hand. “Go to the authorities and see what can be done. Talk it over with them and decide what to do!”
Duan Yan answered and hurried out.
“Those bastards somehow heard we had salt. We took the back roads and never went anywhere near the main route, but they still chased us down and took all ten-odd carts of it!”
“Taking the salt would’ve been bad enough, but they killed people, too. Several of Nine-Beard’s men were murdered. If we hadn’t arrived, Nine-Beard would’ve been killed as well! And they weren’t just some ragtag gang of bandits—they were soldiers in official uniforms! They wanted the salt, and when they learned it had come from Shu, they tried to kill every last witness and cut off anyone else’s route!”
Lin Er swore angrily. “They’ve become completely lawless. We hid in a villager’s home out in the countryside, and heard that the county isn’t only ignoring the people’s hardship. Its soldiers are also forcing villages to pay taxes. If people can’t pay, they beat them at best—and sometimes they pull out their knives. They’re as savage as bandits, looting and stealing grain wherever they go.”
“How has the county come to behave like this? Have they really run out of money and food?”
“Whether they’ve got rice or grain is none of our concern! Those bastards stealing our salt—that’s the real disaster!”
The officer in charge of the military affairs office cursed loudly. Salt was more precious than ever now. They had never gone looking for trouble with the county and had simply been living their own peaceful lives. Yet the county had taken the very thing they depended on!
After a round of shouting and venting, tempers cooled, and everyone managed to settle down.
“Lord Song, Lord Duan, what are we going to do? We can’t just swallow this!”
Duan Yan already had a bold idea in mind, but he didn’t voice it. Instead, he first looked to Song Wushen to see what he thought.
Song Wushen thought for a long while before replying calmly, “For now, send a letter to the county and ask if they’ll negotiate and return the salt.”
Duan Yan didn’t say whether he agreed. He simply followed Song Wushen’s suggestion and sent someone to deliver the message.
“Salt is a treasure in Qianzhou right now. Once the county has swallowed it, there’s no way they’ll spit it back out.”
After everyone had left, Duan Yan spoke with Song Wushen in private.
“Kang County stands between us and the Red Mountain region. Even if this gets settled, getting salt through there will be difficult from now on. The county will use salt to keep the towns under its thumb. Every time we try to solve the problem, we’ll have to spend connections and send people, while the county sits comfortably and takes its cut.”
“If this goes on, we won’t be able to keep it up.”
Duan Yan didn’t want to go to war again. If they could protect themselves and live in peace, they would never pick a fight. But the county would not let them live quietly.
For now, the town had plenty of food and clothing, and enjoyed a brief spell of peace. But the shortage of salt would not let them enjoy that calm for long.
Song Wushen looked at Duan Yan and said, each word deliberate, “That’s why you need to muster the troops and get ready at once.”
Duan Yan’s brows shifted. “You mean…?”
“The county will have to be taken sooner or later. The Red Mountain region and Yan Town have reached a point where hiding away and keeping our heads down will no longer bring us peace.”
…
“Since they’ve sent word asking to negotiate, perhaps we should just return the salt.”
At the county yamen, County Magistrate Lü Xian paced back and forth in his study after receiving the sentry’s report.
“My lord, no one gives up a fat prize once it’s fallen into their hands. Our county storehouses are nearly out of salt, too. This delivery came at just the right time to fill the gap.”
It was Assistant Magistrate Zou Liang who answered him. “We can keep the county gates shut as tight as we like, but while outsiders may not be able to pry them open, we still won’t be able to hide from hunger. Once there’s nothing left to eat or drink, we’ll have to open the gates ourselves.”
Lü Xian felt a knot of fear in his chest. Wars were raging everywhere, and years of disasters had left the common people with poor harvests. Every few days, someone would cause a commotion outside the county gates. Fortunately, Zou Liang had always led the troops in suppressing them. If those mobs ever broke into the county, who knew how much trouble they would cause?
Although he felt Zou Liang had a point—the county maintained troops to protect them, and they could not very well let those soldiers go without salt—he still said, “But what if something happens? Chishan is a fierce place. The last time we followed your suggestion and sent men there to collect iron and grain, look at how badly the county soldiers were beaten. Commander Wang even lost his life.”
The mere thought of it sent chills through him. He had suffered more than a few nightmares over the matter.
“If the troops stationed in the county are short of salt, then we’ll keep a few carts and return the rest to them. It’s illicit salt, so no matter how you look at it, it violates regulations. The county can confiscate some and give some back to them—consider it a token of concern for the men below.”
Zou Liang maintained a respectful expression, but inwardly he despised this cowardly county magistrate to the extreme. Afraid of this and afraid of that—how could a man so terrified of death have been born into such troubled times? He might as well have died sooner and found eternal peace.
He forced a smile. “Your Excellency is considerate of the people’s livelihood. But times have changed. If our county does not show a firm hand now, won’t it only embolden a town like Chishan?”
“Chishan is in such a hurry to come demand salt precisely because salt has become scarce. Otherwise, why would they have sought out illicit salt dealers and been willing to exchange grain for it? Now that we know their weakness, the county should seize it firmly and make sure they can’t so much as struggle in our presence!”
“That sounds all well and good.”
Lü Xian knit his brows anxiously. “But if we refuse them and anger Chishan, what if they bring their troops and attack us?”
“Chishan is only a small place. No matter how formidable it may be, it is still just a remote town. At most, they throw their weight around on their own turf while guarding the mines. How could they dare march into a neighboring county?”
Zou Liang continued, “If they truly had that ability and nerve, would they have stayed quiet for so long?”
Lü Xian was utterly at a loss. He did not want any trouble to break out; he only wanted to huddle inside the county and avoid disaster. And yet, he could not quite bear to give up the salt.
After several rounds of indecision, he simply let the matter drag on, as though delaying it long enough would somehow make it resolve itself.
But the decision came too late. A sentry’s urgent report arrived first.
“Chishan has brought troops to attack! My lord, Chishan has brought troops to attack!”
Lü Xian had been sitting in a soft chair thickly padded with wool blankets, drinking Mantangchun tea while the warm charcoal brazier in the study lulled him into drowsiness. At the report, he shot upright in alarm.
“.........They’re—they’re here?!” he stammered.
“They’re probably less than five li away by now!”
Lü Xian was so shocked he seemed to have lost his soul. He hurriedly rose, his wide sleeve sweeping the teacup from the table. Then he turned and kicked over the charcoal brazier. Glowing coals scattered across the floor, but he paid no heed to the tea scalding his hand or the coals burning his feet.
“Where’s the assistant magistrate? Where has Assistant Magistrate Zou gone?!”
