Although they had spoken with confidence, their steps noticeably slowed as they approached the Yudai Bridge step by step.
The streets were bustling with people, and the haggling over renting carts and horses at the bridgehead continued as usual.
But was everything truly as usual?
“It’s the young masters—they’re back!”
A familiar voice rang out, cutting through the noisy crowd and reaching the ears of Xu Maoxiu and the others.
Xu Maoxiu clearly heard his brothers beside and behind him let out sighs of relief, and he couldn’t help but smile.
Jin Ge’er and Ban Qin had already rushed over joyfully.
“…Why so slow? We’ve been waiting forever…”
“I said we should’ve gone to meet them, but then no one would’ve been left to watch the gate…”
“…Quick, Jin Ge’er, set up the brazier properly and light the incense from Puxiu Temple…”
Surrounded by the two chattering nonstop, the seven men found themselves unable to keep up with either listening or responding. They could only grin foolishly, letting Ban Qin and Jin Ge’er fuss over them—beating their bodies with branches, stepping over the brazier—before finally entering the gate.
Amidst the mountain rocks and flowing water, the bamboo grove appeared even more lush and green in the autumn. The hall doors were slid open, revealing a painted screen and a low table inside, upon which lay a scroll of books.
Everything was as usual—except for one thing. That familiar figure was nowhere to be seen.
Xu Maoxiu felt a mix of relief and a faint sense of melancholy.
Truth be told, he was also a little afraid to see her…
“Miss has gone out, but she’ll be back soon,” Ban Qin said.
Xu Maoxiu withdrew his gaze and nodded.
“The water’s ready! You gentlemen should go wash up first—fresh clothes are prepared too,” Jin Ge’er called out.
After the lively bustle of bathing, washing their hair, shaving, and changing into new clothes, they stepped out to find two more people in the courtyard.
“Boss.”
Li Dashao stood up, his face filled with excitement.
Manager Wu, as carefree as ever, smiled lightly.
“You look like you’ve put on even more weight,” he remarked.
“Being waited on hand and foot with good food and drink every day, either lounging or sitting—of course I’d gain weight,” Xu Bangchui complained, rubbing his belly. “I can’t take it anymore. A few days without exercise, and my joints have gone stiff.”
As he spoke, he beckoned to the others nearby.
“Come on, let’s go train a bit, loosen up.”
True to his word, the brothers laughed and headed to the backyard. Before long, the sounds of exertion and exertion filled the air.
“It’s livelier with more people around,” Manager Wu said with a laugh.
“But it’s also more trouble,” Fan Jianglin couldn’t help muttering under his breath.
“Trouble? Life is nothing but a tangle of troubles—when is there ever a time without them?” Manager Wu chuckled. “Alright, you bosses rest for a day, then hurry back to the shop. We’re all swamped with work.”
Fan Jianglin and Xu Maoxiu froze for a moment, slightly taken aback.
“That’s right, that’s right,” Li Dashao chimed in. “Now that the weather’s turned cold, business at the Immortal’s Abode is booming—we can barely keep up! If the bosses don’t come back soon, Manager Wu will have to start limiting customers.”
Manager Wu burst into laughter.
“Limiting customers has nothing to do with being overwhelmed,” he said, his eyes gleaming with pride. “It’s a strategy—scarcity increases value…”
“But if we can still make money, why not take it? Only serving fifty tables a day is such a waste,” Li Dashao argued. “Once winter comes, we’ll be even more stretched thin!”
“If demand exceeds supply, just take reservations in advance,” Manager Wu replied with a grin.
As they listened to the two men discussing the business, Fan Jianglin and Xu Maoxiu smiled in amusement.
“Boss, what do you think?” Manager Wu turned to them and asked.
“Whatever you say is fine,” Fan Jianglin replied.
“My, how carefree you bosses are—it’s your restaurant, after all,” Manager Wu teased with a laugh.
Fan Jianglin and Xu Maoxiu exchanged a glance.
“Manager Wu… we…” Xu Maoxiu began.
Before he could finish, Jin Ge’er called out from the doorway, “Miss is back!” Everyone quickly rose to their feet and turned toward the entrance.
The door slid open, and there stood Cheng Jiao-niang, having just alighted from her carriage as her maid removed her veil.
Dressed in a plain floral skirt and azure satin robe, her complexion was as fair as jade.
“Welcome home, brothers,” she said, lowering her head in a graceful bow.
Though they would have rather hidden away, the brothers were summoned from the backyard and shuffled hesitantly into the room.
Cheng Jiao-niang, Xu Maoxiu, and Manager Wu had already taken their seats.
“…Shall we dine at home or at the restaurant?” Manager Wu was discussing with them. “Even if we stay in, don’t trouble yourselves—we can have food delivered from the shop…”
“Let me prepare the meal,” Cheng Jiao-niang interposed. “It’s only right for a sister to do so when her brothers return from hardship.”
“No, no—you were the one who suffered outside our home. You shouldn’t exert yourself,” Fan Jianglin protested.
“It’s no trouble, especially with everyone gathered today.” Cheng Jiao-niang turned to Manager Wu and Li Dashao with a faint smile. “Consider it a farewell banquet.”
Farewell?
Manager Wu and Li Dashao looked startled.
Their release from prison today was undoubtedly this girl’s doing. That being the case, she must have already known—even earlier than they did—about the order for them to return to the military camp.
Xu Maoxiu and the others fell silent, wanting to speak but unsure of what to say.
A heavy quiet settled over the room.
“But… why must you leave?” Li Dashao finally blurted out.
“We’re deserters,” Xu Maoxiu replied. “Deserters face execution. We’re fortunate just to be alive. Now that our names have been cleared and the charges dropped, we’re soldiers again—and soldiers must return.”
Li Dashao and Manager Wu nodded slowly, their expressions turning complicated with understanding.
“No, originally you didn’t have to go back,” Cheng Jiao-niang said.
This statement sent another wave of astonishment through the room.
“I’ve prepared three gifts for you,” she continued. “This is the first one.”
Being sent back to the military camp was considered a gift?
“Well then, thank you, Sister,” Xu Maoxiu was the first to regain his composure and respond.
Following his lead, Fan Jianglin and the others quickly added their thanks as well.
Their gratitude was completely sincere, without a trace of doubt.
“Aren’t you going to ask why?” Cheng Jiao-niang asked instead.
“Everything you do for us is good. We just need to follow your instructions,” Xu Maoxiu replied.
“I made this decision for you without consulting you first. I don’t know if it aligns with your wishes,” Cheng Jiao-niang said.
Align with their wishes?
Manager Wu and Li Dashao couldn’t help but exchange a glance.
Giving up a comfortable, wealthy life in the capital to become low-ranking soldiers posted at the dangerous border—how could that possibly align with their wishes?
“Miss, someone’s at the gate delivering goods,”
Jin Ge’er’s voice carried in from the courtyard.
“The second gift has arrived,” her maid said with a laugh, rising to her feet. “Show them in quickly.”
“Whatever Miss gives is bound to be good. Let me have a look,” Manager Wu said cheerfully, standing up.
Li Dashao promptly rose as well.
“Let’s all go see then,” Xu Maoxiu suggested with a smile.
The group noisily gathered under the eaves, where a man who appeared to be a manager was directing four or five workers through the gate.
“Bows!”
The brothers shouted in unison as they saw what the workers were carrying.
“These are Qing-zhou bows!”
One of them exclaimed loudly, his voice brimming with excitement.
Hearing this, the foreman smiled and looked over.
“Young master has a keen eye,” he said with an obsequious nod, stepping forward proudly. Pointing at each longbow being carried in by the workers, he boasted, “Our shop’s bows are official Qing-zhou craftsmanship. These range from 120-kilogram to 180-kilogram draw weights…”
Before he could finish, someone lunged forward.
“The 180-kilo bow is mine!”
Xu Bangchui bellowed, charging toward the bows like a madman—his ravenous expression so terrifying that the bow-holding worker stumbled backward in alarm.
“I’ll take the 180-kilo. The lighter ones can go to the children,” he declared, provoking an uproar from his brothers, who now swarmed forward.
“…Since when can you draw a 180-kilo bow, Bangchui? Don’t throw out your back…”
The courtyard instantly erupted with lively commotion. After some playful tussling, Xu Bangchui triumphantly secured the bow he wanted.
“Ha!” He slipped on his ever-present bronze thumb ring and gave the bowstring a powerful pull, letting out an admiring gasp. “Now this is a real bow! Solid craftsmanship… serious power…”
The manager watched in astonishment as the bow was drawn with apparent ease.
“My good sir, what tremendous strength!” he exclaimed repeatedly. “Even seasoned soldiers can’t all draw a 180-kilo bow so effortlessly!”
Xu Bangchui puffed up with even greater pride, immediately clamoring to test it in the backyard.
“Don’t get cocky,” his brothers chimed in, teasing him. “This manager just hasn’t seen much in the capital. Every one of us could draw this without breaking a sweat!”
The courtyard grew even more boisterous with laughter, banter and good-natured bickering.
“Third Brother, aren’t you choosing one for yourself?” Cheng Jiao-niang asked.
Xu Maoxiu, who had been quietly observing his brothers’ antics, smiled.
“No need to pick. Any bow will serve me well,” he replied.
“Or perhaps,” Cheng Jiao-niang added, “when the archer is truly skilled, it matters not whether the bow is fine or poor.”
Xu Maoxiu let out a hearty laugh.
“I’ll gladly accept that compliment,” he said.
After the bows had been distributed and inspected to everyone’s satisfaction, the manager, payment in hand, bowed cheerfully and took his leave.
“These things are so expensive!” Manager Wu clicked his tongue in astonishment.
A single bow actually cost twenty guan! With the ox-horn thumb rings included, the seven bows totaled enough to feed a modest family for an entire year.
“Well,” the shopkeeper hurriedly explained, “these Qing-zhou bows are exceptionally rare. Not just anyone can acquire them.”
Though Manager Wu didn’t fully understand the value and the cost mattered little anyway – after all, this young lady had never treated money as anything serious, to her wealth was merely a plaything – he let out a knowing chuckle and dropped the subject.
As the manager and his men took their leave, the boisterous commotion from the brothers in the courtyard showed no signs of dying down.
“You really shouldn’t have spent so much on us, Sister. The army provides bows and crossbows anyway,” Fan Jianglin said.
Before Cheng Jiao-niang could respond, Xu Bangchui overheard and chimed in: “The army’s gear gets worse every year! Completely unusable in battle!” he shouted.
Xu Maoxiu shot him a glare. “That’s no reason for our sister to spend her money,” he said sternly.
Xu Bangchui scratched his head with an embarrassed chuckle. “I wasn’t telling her to buy them, just stating facts. You’re the one who brought up army provisions!”
“It’s no trouble at all,” Cheng Jiao-niang said with a faint smile. “You are quite wealthy now. A twenty-guan bow? Even thirty or forty guan would be but a trifle.”
“Yeah! Exactly!” Xu Bangchui nodded enthusiastically, grinning.
Fan Jianglin glared at him.
“…But a bow’s worth isn’t measured in coin,” Cheng Jiao-niang continued. “Otherwise, why wouldn’t you simply purchase these fine official bows, rather than fashioning their own from branches and hemp rope?”
The boisterous courtyard gradually fell silent.
“It’s not that we’re stingy, but…” one brother blurted out, then faltered, unsure how to continue.
“Because you yourselves don’t quite know why,” Cheng Jiao-niang said, looking at him. “But I do. Let me tell you.”
She stepped slowly down the courtyard stairs, observing the brothers who still clutched their new bows with undisguised joy.
“You always carry your thumb rings with you…” she began, her gaze lingering on one brother’s copper ring, worn to a gleaming yellow sheen from constant use.
“I—it’s just a habit…” the brother mumbled, suddenly self-conscious.
“Yes. A habit.” Cheng Jiao-niang walked past each of them in turn. “The habit of training your bodies through wind and rain. The habit of gripping your weapons, ever battle-ready. The habit of lying in places of song and revelry—yet still pricking up your ears for war drums…”
As she spoke, not only did Xu Maoxiu and the others fall silent, but even Manager Wu and Li Dashao found their breaths growing short, hands unconsciously clenching.
Some instincts, bone-deep, could never be erased…
“…But here,” Cheng Jiao-niang continued, pausing before Xu Bangchui and resting her hand on the longbow he clutched tightly, “there are no military summons, no battle cries from comrades during sparring, no looming threat of enemy attack… Here, these bows are but wall decorations, playthings to amuse your little sister. Even the rarest, most priceless bow is worthless when held in such circumstances…”
She withdrew her hand and turned, slowly retracing her steps.
“A tiger belongs in the mountains to be truly wild; a dragon needs deep pools to retain its spirit. Your bows only become priceless treasures when on the battlefield, when piercing enemy hearts. That’s why you’d never purchase such expensive bows yourselves—because displaying them idly here would be an insult to their very essence.”
“A starving tiger would sooner die free in the wilderness than live fat in a cage. So my gift to you isn’t wealth for a peaceful retirement, but a chance to reclaim your honor where you lost it—to rise from where you fell, and shake off the dirt of disgrace where it stuck.”
Coming to a stop at the stairs, she regarded Xu Maoxiu and the others.
“Tell me, brothers—is this gift to your liking?”
