Volume One: Is There a Road for Humanity in This Chaotic World? Chapter 19: Lady I

As usual, I ask for your support—please add this to your collection!

Wen Huaguo and Chen Hu took all their old comrades and continued eastward; Officer Zheng and Lady Wang turned toward the capital. On the road, Officer Zheng selected several capable personal guards and, under the pretense of keeping Deng She company, kept him under strict watch, leaving no opportunity for escape.

Yellow Donkey, Luo Guoqi, and Guan Shirong would occasionally come to keep Deng She company. In private, Yellow Donkey grumbled about Officer Zheng’s excessive suspicion toward Deng She, likening it to guarding against a thief, and expressed his dissatisfaction with several complaints.

He spoke from the heart. As a direct subordinate, he had always held himself in high regard. Over the past days, with no men under him, he had first been forced to take orders from Deng She and then from Officer Zheng. Deng She was at least his equal, both having served under Guan Duo and holding similar ranks; but who was this Officer Zheng? Merely a servant woman’s lackey! A minor and irregular officer, a mere hundred-man commander, who dared to command him so arrogantly.

He had long been resentful.

If it weren’t for the principles of a true man—able to bend or stand tall as the situation required; if it weren’t for being under someone else’s roof, forced to bow his head; if it weren’t for his own capacity to endure; and most importantly, if his own unit weren’t made up of the remnants from Yunnei and Dongsheng, he would never have endured this long.

So, seeing Wen Huaguo and the others risking their lives to draw the enemy away, while Officer Zheng was still so wary of Deng She, his anger nearly boiled over. He volunteered several times to reason with Officer Zheng, but was stopped by Deng She.

“You have a generous heart, Little Commander Deng,” Yellow Donkey said admiringly, admitting he was not as broad-minded.

Luo Guoqi and Guan Shirong exchanged faint smiles. Although their acquaintance with Deng She was brief, both appreciated this calm and humble youth. Still, admiration was one thing; caution, another. From a security standpoint, they had no objection to Officer Zheng’s actions.

The sun gradually set, dipping below the horizon. A crescent moon climbed into the branches. The wind brought clouds, veiling the moonlight. The dark sky showed not a single star.

They rode across the endless plain. In the pitch-black night, scattered trees flashed by, visible only as they drew near. The biting wind stung their faces and noses, armor icy against their bodies; several wounded soldiers, forcing themselves to endure, swayed unsteadily in their saddles.

A scout rode up from behind and spoke a few words to Lady Wang and Officer Zheng. Lady Wang’s face lit up; Officer Zheng reined in his horse and approached Deng She and his companions.

He saluted. “Commander Deng, Wen and Chen have served their lord with absolute loyalty, offering themselves as bait for the enemy. Such noble conduct and righteous blood, I cannot help but admire them.” His expression relaxed, unable to conceal his excitement. “Our scouts just reported that the Tartars who’ve been trailing us are gone.”

Yellow Donkey snorted. Luo Guoqi breathed a sigh of relief; Guan Shirong patted Deng She’s arm in reassurance. Deng She’s heart tightened. He didn’t bother to feign his emotions—the less he pretended, the more Officer Zheng would trust there was no deceit. Without a word, he spurred his horse and rode away from the group.

“Understandable, perfectly understandable,” Officer Zheng said, collecting himself and watching Deng She’s departure with a look of solemn sympathy. He then addressed the others, “After continuous fighting and forced marches, our horses are exhausted, and our provisions nearly gone. I recall there’s a large postal station ahead. Why not rest there and look for supplies? What do you all think?”

No one objected.

According to their plan, Wen Huaguo and Chen Hu would deliberately lure the Yuan troops away, giving Deng She a chance to slip out; afterward, they would abandon the carriage and leave obvious tracks so the pursuing Yuan soldiers would realize they had been misled. Even knowing all these steps, Deng She couldn’t help feeling anxious.

He was also keenly aware of time pressing in on him. He had to leave as soon as possible, rejoin Wen and Chen, and quickly carry out the next step. Otherwise, if the Yuan troops really caught up, all would be lost.

The rhythmic beat of hooves sounded as Lady Wang drew near.

She could no longer hide in the carriage—exposed to the bitter wind, her cheeks were red with cold. She huddled on horseback, wrapped in several soldiers’ cloaks. Despite all the layers, her petite frame did not look bulky, but instead evoked a delicate, vulnerable charm.

She usually rode only for pleasure, a few laps and she was done; but today, after a long forced march, the hard saddle had chafed her inner thighs raw, and her small hands—gloved in Officer Zheng’s ill-fitting pair—ached from gripping the reins.

In this cold, she had no desire to speak, but felt obliged to comfort Deng She. She feared that, in a moment of passion, Deng She would seize an opportunity to slip back to Wen Huaguo’s group and bring the Yuan forces back upon them. Besides, it was a good chance to show the soldiers she was a woman who repaid favors.

Her voice, distorted by the chill, said, “Little Commander Deng, your foster father’s two brothers are truly righteous men. You need not grieve; the heavens favor the virtuous. When I see my lord, I will certainly report both their deeds and yours.”

Deng She felt a surge of disgust.

At their first meeting, he had thought well of this woman, believing her both clever and courageous. But her wit and bravery served only her own interests. That, in itself, was not so bad—everyone looks out for themselves—but her motives were too obvious and her methods too crude, inviting only contempt.

Yesterday, after he returned from breaking through the enemy lines, Lady Wang’s attitude toward him and Zhao Guo had been completely different. To him, she offered flattering compliments and inducements; to Zhao Guo, she dispensed a token trinket, barely acknowledging his valor. Certainly, Deng She and Zhao Guo had different ranks—one a commander, the other a personal guard—but a soldier who could seize the enemy chieftain from within thousands could not be treated as an ordinary soldier.

And before the charge, Lady Wang’s stirring speech to those in her carriage, in retrospect, seemed only an attempt to make the soldiers fight for her sake. Had they been defeated and she taken prisoner, Deng She doubted she would have had the courage to kill herself.

Then, that morning, without hesitation, Lady Wang had abandoned her carriage, stripped the unconscious, wounded body of her own kinsman, Commander Xu, of his clothes to use as her own, and traded a fine carriage horse for a sorry packhorse. Deng She had seen it all and, inwardly, he despised her.

Still, Deng She was a reserved man and concealed his discontent well, forcing a smile. “My lady, your life is worth a thousand pieces of gold. If we can keep you safe, our deaths matter little.”

Lady Wang was pleased by these words. Beautiful, noble, and of high status, she thought men like Deng She ought to live and die for her. She praised Deng She a few times, then her thoughts drifted. She muttered, “It’s so cold and windy—I wonder if there’s a carriage at the station ahead.”

Deng She nearly burst with rage. Their brothers were cold, hungry, and wounded; even he had bandages that split and bled anew. Yet this woman only worried about finding a carriage to block the wind! He suppressed his anger, knowing that in ordinary times, he would simply have laughed it off; now, anxious for Wen Huaguo’s safety, his frustration spilled onto Lady Wang.

Though he looked down on her character, he disdained to vent his anger on others. He bowed and said, “I am willing to serve my lady to the utmost.”

He called to Zhao Guo and spurred his horse. The dozen personal guards sent by Officer Zheng hurried to keep up. The station was twenty li ahead, not far, and they would reach it soon.

The clouds completely swallowed the moon. In the pitch-darkness, one could not see a person three meters away. The wind grew even colder. One guard hunched his shoulders and cursed, “Damn this weather, is it going to snow again?”

Deng She raised a hand, signaling him to be silent. Zhao Guo drew his sword with a metallic ring. The guard, startled, wheeled his horse and reached for the iron whip on his saddle. “What are you doing?” His companion hushed him, drawing his own saber and pointing ahead. “Look.”

Half a li ahead, the station loomed black and silent in the wilds, occupying several hundred square meters. The inn faced the road, with a round, towering granary behind. A few scattered lights flickered within.

No village before, no inn behind. In this war-torn land, how could this long-abandoned post be occupied? The guards exchanged uneasy glances. The one with the iron whip immediately turned his horse to alert the main force behind.

Deng She and Zhao Guo exchanged a glance. Childhood friends, they understood each other perfectly—one look was enough to know the other’s thoughts. Zhao Guo slid from his horse and, using the darkness as cover, crept up to the inn’s window.

Deng She quietly ordered the ten or so guards, “Scout the area—then we’ll decide our next move.”

The group spread out, leaving three or four to hold the horses in reserve. The rest, silent, followed Zhao Guo in pairs. Faint voices drifted from within—a man was singing, his accent strange and sharp as an owl’s. Deng She frowned. One of the guards whispered, “It’s a eunuch.”

How could a palace eunuch be here? Before Deng She could ponder this oddity, a door creaked open. A man shuffled out, hands tucked in his sleeves—likely seeking relief. He ran straight into Zhao Guo.

The man froze; Zhao Guo’s blade flashed, blood spraying everywhere, nearly cleaving him in two. The man’s cry of agony carried far into the night. The singing within ceased abruptly. With no turning back, Zhao Guo kicked open the half-closed door and threw the corpse inside, provoking a chorus of screams.

He darted inside, then quickly withdrew, slamming the door and shouting, “A hundred… a hundred or more, blue… blue…” In his excitement, he stuttered. Deng She understood at once—there were over a hundred Qing troops inside. A quick-witted guard hurried to report to Officer Zheng. Deng She quickened his pace toward the door to support Zhao Guo.

—

Note:
1. “Eunuch” (here, “firekeeper”): In common parlance, a term for eunuchs serving the emperor. Originally a Persian title, a term of respect in Islam for esteemed figures. It began as an official title under the Samanid dynasty, later evolving into an honorific for the powerful and noble. During the Yuan dynasty, “firekeeper” was widely used for both eunuchs and high-ranking officials—even generals bore the title, such as the notable Minister Mili Huozhe during Emperor Chengzong’s reign.