Chapter 17: Tempering
Madam Lu, lying in the prison cart, watched this scene and felt very heartbroken for her precious grandson. She struggled to sit up: “Yue Ge’er is tired from walking. Come to Grandmother.”
Pei Yue glanced at Cousin Sister Qinghe, whose expression was indifferent, and quietly pulled back his left foot that he had stepped out.
Over the past half month or so, everyone—whether standing, sitting, or lying down—had followed Pei Qinghe’s orders. Pei Qinghe had already established absolute authority.
Don’t think Pei Yue was only five years old; he knew whose face to watch and whose words to heed.
Without Pei Qinghe speaking or nodding, no matter how Madam Lu coaxed him, Pei Yue didn’t dare move.
“Go to the cart!” Pei Qinghe finally spoke: “From now on, listen to Pei Feng. If you act up again, I’ll beat you myself.”
Pei Yue answered and climbed onto the prison cart dejectedly, hugging Madam Lu’s arm.
Madam Lu pulled Pei Yue into her arms and glared at Pei Qinghe, thinking it went unnoticed.
It was neither painful nor itchy, utterly without deterrence.
Ever since it was confirmed that Madam Lu had survived the ordeal and kept her life, Pei Qinghe had stopped paying her any mind. She turned her head and praised Pei Feng a few words: “You did the right thing today. You’re the captain, so you have to discipline them.”
“Whoever dares not listen to you, I’ll personally teach him a lesson.”
Pei Feng puffed out his chest and nodded vigorously, like a proud little rooster.
A sudden burst of crying carried over on the wind.
Pei Qinghe frowned.
“I’m not walking anymore!” A young woman of twenty-six or twenty-seven sat on the ground wailing loudly: “Walking every day, my feet are almost worn through.”
“Whoever wants to walk can walk. Anyway, I can’t walk anymore.”
This young woman was Zhao Shi, the wife from the twelfth branch. Most Pei Family daughters-in-law came from military families, but Zhao Shi was an exception. Zhao Shi’s father was a physician in the Ministry of Rites, and she had studied music, chess, calligraphy, and painting since childhood. After marrying into the Pei Clan, Zhao Shi and her husband had different temperaments and interests, and their affection was mediocre.
When the Pei Clan suffered the great disaster, Zhao Shi’s only son had just turned eight and was dragged to the execution ground and beheaded.
Zhao Shi’s world collapsed from then on. These days, she had been like a walking corpse, dazed and muddled, following the crowd. Today, utterly exhausted from walking, it was as if the bowstring suddenly snapped—all her spirit drained away, and she cried heart-wrenchingly.
Mao Hongling patiently comforted her.
Zhao Shi cried until she could hardly catch her breath: “You still have Little Doggy. I have nothing left. Why am I still alive! Enduring this torment every day! Let me die!”
Her heart ached, but her body ached even more.
Walking dozens of li every day, her soles full of blisters, legs sore, swollen, and numb. When would such days end?
“Fourth Cousin-in-law,” Pei Qinghe’s voice sounded in her ear: “Go rest on the cart for a while.”
Grief surged in Zhao Shi: “Resting won’t help. I’m not like you all. I’ve been frail since childhood and can’t walk to Youzhou at all. Leave me behind! I don’t want to live…”
The low, despondent mood spread instantly. Countless women turned their heads, their eyes reddening.
The road to exile was too long.
Training was truly too grueling.
Was all their hardship and struggle really worthwhile?
Pei Qinghe suddenly reached out and slapped Zhao Shi. Zhao Shi’s eyes rolled back and she fainted, her crying stopping abruptly. Then, Pei Qinghe instructed Mao Hongling and the others to carry Zhao Shi to the donkey cart.
Training was of course exhausting.
Which troop training isn’t grueling?
Without the grueling, where would military discipline come from? Without it, where would strict orders and prohibitions come from? Without it, where would resilient fighting spirit and sturdy bodies come from?
No amount of sweet words would work; it had to be honed bit by bit. Just like forging iron in blazing fire.
If you can’t endure it, you’re scrap iron. If you can, you’re a sharp weapon.
This stretch of official road was uneven, and the donkey cart jolted nonstop. An hour later, Zhao Shi was jolted awake, dizzy and nauseous, vomiting twice.
That evening, Zhao Shi developed a high fever.
Doctor Bao prescribed medicine and boiled a bowl of thick herbal medicine to force down her throat.
Zhao Shi drank the herbal medicine but didn’t break the fever.
After lying on the wooden cart for several days, on the afternoon of the third day, Zhao Shi breathed her last.
Wrapped in a straw mat, she was buried by the official road, without even a wooden plaque.
The young Pei Family daughters-in-law cried until their eyes were red, sending Zhao Shi on her final journey with tears.
Amid the widespread grief, only Pei Qinghe remained calm, almost indifferent: “We’ve already delayed more than half an hour. Everyone wipe your tears and keep walking. We must reach the posthouse before dark.”
Mao Hongling felt heartbroken and couldn’t help speaking up: “Buried so simply—can’t we go buy a coffin?”
As soon as the words left her mouth, Pei Qinghe looked over coldly.
Mao Hongling’s heart tightened.
The next moment, Pei Qinghe’s cold voice rang out: “The Pei Clan is exiled; we are the family of a convicted official. The Eastern Palace Guards are here to protect our safety. Running errands isn’t their duty.”
“Whoever doesn’t value their life, like Fourth Cousin-in-law, will be buried on the spot when they die and become a lonely wild ghost.”
Mao Hongling shuddered instinctively.
It had been that close.
That night, if Pei Qinghe hadn’t found her, she would have ended it with her belt.
Then hastily buried to become a lonely wild ghost.
Madam Lu, sitting in the prison cart, also felt chills and waves of lingering fear.
Without a doctor, without herbal medicine, without a prison cart, her old life would have been gone long ago.
“If you want to live, then pull yourselves together, straighten your backs, and keep moving forward.”
Pei Qinghe raised her voice: “If we don’t make it to the posthouse, there’ll be no hot water at night, and we won’t be able to make steamed buns. Everyone will go hungry!”
Mao Hongling wiped her eyes forcefully and responded loudly: “The clan leader is right. Let’s keep walking.”
Soon, sparse responses rose: “Walk.”
“Listen to the clan leader.”
Pei Qinghe blew the bamboo whistle in her mouth vigorously.
As soon as the crowd heard the whistle, they quickly assembled. In less than the time to drink a cup of tea, they set off again.
There was no time for mourning; everyone continued forward.
Captain Sun, taking in the whole scene, felt complex and subtle emotions surge in his heart. Sixth Sister Pei was born the wrong gender. If she were a man… no, a man would have been beheaded long ago.
Such ruthless and decisive temper and mastery of controlling people were things he had never seen in his life.
In the future, Sixth Sister Pei would surely achieve great things.
……
The delay of more than half an hour today meant they only reached the posthouse after dark.
Everyone’s mood was gloomy; no one spoke. Even the naughty Pei Yue was unusually well-behaved, shrinking beside Grandmother Madam Lu and saying softly: “Grandmother, I’m hungry.”
Madam Lu was hungry too.
But at such a time, no one had the mood to cook. They could only eat the dry biscuits prepared by the posthouse.
The dark dry biscuits were coarse and hard to swallow, with a sour taste. After eating white steamed buns and meat buns for so many days, going back to dry biscuits was truly hard to stomach.
In the middle of the night, it began to drizzle. By dawn, the rain grew heavier, pouring down.
The rule of exile was that even if the sky fell with knives, they could not stop.
Captain Sun looked at the pouring rain and hesitated for a long time.
Pei Qinghe came over on her own: “Captain Sun, isn’t it time to set off?”
