The Youngest Daughter, Chang Le - Chapter 55: Always Remember

Chapter 55

Liu Liang and his two sons were dozing against the wall in the kitchen, staying alert due to the important guests in their home. Hearing movement outside, he immediately got up and went to the door, seeing that the county magistrate’s servants had risen.

He quickly woke his sons to fetch water. The stove still had embers, and the water in the pot was hot.

Lady Li saw they were prepared and didn’t stand on ceremony. She hastily got ready and directed people to carry hot water into the three rooms.

Although two rooms would have sufficed, Liu Liang had given up all three rooms in his house. Lady Zhang arranged for herself and her mother-in-law to share one room, the magistrate and Changwang in another, and the last for the second son’s family with their child.

“Is Changle sleeping in the carriage?”

Lady Zhang was personally helping her mother-in-law with her hair. She smiled, “Yes, I thought about letting her share our bed – it’s big enough to squeeze in. But she preferred to stay out there, as if scorning us.”

Without a mirror in the room, the old lady touched her temples, unconcerned about how it looked. In recent years, her daughter-in-law often came to personally attend to her, managing even complex hairstyles requiring full ornaments without ever pulling a single hair.

“That Qiuli fellow, have you noticed anything about him?”

“I’ve been pondering about this person the whole journey. He claims to be an old acquaintance, but I can’t for the life of me figure out which family he’s from. His surname might be false, but family lineage usually leaves some traces. Among our martial artists, I can’t think of anyone besides Changle’s master.”

Lady Zhang gently smoothed the last strand of hair, dabbed some hair oil in her palm and applied it, speaking just as softly.

“Has Maonian figured anything out?”

“The master said earlier that he doesn’t know any family like that, and I haven’t asked again since.”

The old lady nodded. Though they hadn’t uncovered his background, she could still discern between goodwill and ill intent. But not knowing for certain left her uneasy.

“Well, we’ll deal with it when we arrive,” the old lady said, then asked, “Have you looked at Changle’s injuries? Will they leave scars?”

“I found a chance to ask yesterday. She said they’re all minor wounds, barely bled. With medicine applied, they won’t leave marks. I’ll examine them closely once we’re settled.”

“She’s been hurt quite a bit on this journey. We ache from the slightest bump, and just because she can bear it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. We need to remember her pain, not act like nothing happened.”

As she spoke, the old lady stood up. Lady Zhang hurried to support her as they walked out, replying, “Yes, I’ll keep that in mind.”

Zhu Maonian had started high, being favored as a top imperial scholar. From the Eastern Palace to becoming a high official, he had always been in the capital. Though he had been an official for many years, this was his first time governing a region. He knew commoners feared officials, but seeing it firsthand showed him just how much – and Liu Liang was even a village elder, which was not how it should be.

In prosperous years or times of national celebration, regions would recommend respected elders to go to the capital and offer congratulations, sometimes even receiving an audience with the emperor. This showed the status of elders in the Great Wan Kingdom. Liu Liang didn’t seem to fit that role at all, suggesting the situation in Yunbei might be even more complex than he had imagined.

With these thoughts, Zhu Maonian clasped his hands towards Liu Liang who had come to see them off. “Thank you for your hospitality. We’ll be taking our leave now.”

“Not at all, it’s been my honor,” Liu Liang replied humbly.

Zhu Maonian looked around, hands behind his back. In the dim pre-dawn light, he could only see a few nearby houses – all low, thatched huts with two or three rooms. There were no sounds of roosters or dogs, just a deathly silence. By comparison, it was clear that Liu Liang’s house was the best among them.

Turning to board the carriage, Zhu Maonian lifted the curtain and clasped his hands once more. The carriage slowly moved forward.

Liu Liang and his family bowed deeply to see them off, straightening only when the carriage had gone far into the distance. Knowing that no one could sleep with the county magistrate present, people immediately gathered around now that he had left. “Uncle, uncle, how was it?”

“Yes, uncle, what’s the new county magistrate like?”

“What do you mean, how was it? The question is unnecessary. Look at that procession – six carriages, plus many on horseback. Does that look like someone coming to take up a post? The last one at least didn’t bring his whole family along.”

The man speaking was in his early thirties. Though he sneered at the new magistrate, he knew not to speak too loudly, lest he invite trouble.

The others likely thought similarly and looked to Liu Liang, waiting for his assessment.

These were all clan members within five degrees of kinship, so Liu Liang didn’t bother with niceties. He said in a low voice, “I’ll say this much – with all those people, they didn’t touch a bite of our food. Just for that, I’m willing to speak well of him.”

The crowd exchanged glances. It was normal for officials to look down on their food, but didn’t they bring servants? They had thought Uncle Liu must have used up all his stores. If they really hadn’t touched his provisions, regardless of whether this new magistrate could govern well, at least he seemed to have some conscience.

Someone couldn’t help but clasp their hands in prayer, “Buddha bless us, it would be wonderful to have a good official who cares for the people.”

“Keep dreaming,” said the man who had spoken earlier. “Rather than hope for that, we’d be better off hoping the heavens bless us with a good harvest this year so we can eat our fill. Uncle, I’m heading back.”

Liu Liang had no patience to argue with them and took the opportunity to return home as well. The others dispersed too. They had merely exchanged a few words about the arrival of the new county magistrate, but no one truly took it to heart or held any real expectations.

Only a fool would still place hope in those officials. They just prayed the officials would create fewer new schemes to extort the people and leave them a way to survive.

Back in the house, Liu Liang was about to catch up on sleep when he heard an exclamation – it was his wife’s voice. He quickly put on his shoes and went out, asking, “What’s wrong?”

“Old man, come quick and see!”

Liu Liang followed the voice to the kitchen and immediately spotted two half-full white bags on the stove. These had been brought in by the family’s servant last night. One bag contained flatbread, and the smaller one held large pieces of meat wrapped in oiled paper.

“Father, did they forget these? Should we catch up to them?” the elder son asked with difficulty, tearing his gaze from the bread. Last night the magistrate had given each of them one, and they had shared one, knowing how delicious it was.

“How can our two legs catch up to their four? If they really forgot, it would be faster for them to come back for it than for us to bring it,” the younger son said, clearly more quick-witted than his elder brother. “Father, we all went to sleep, so we don’t know there’s anything in the kitchen, right?”

Everyone in the room looked expectantly at the head of the household.

Liu Liang thought of the meat he had seen last night and seemed to smell its aroma. He couldn’t help but swallow. The last time they had eaten meat was two New Year’s ago. Last year’s harvest had been poor, and during the New Year holidays, they had just wiped the bottom of the pot with an oiled cloth to pretend they had some meat grease.

“Father!” the younger son cried urgently, afraid his father might be stubborn, “My son is three and hasn’t even tasted meat once. He doesn’t even know what meat tastes like…”

“Go to sleep,” Liu Liang steeled himself. “Everyone go to sleep. If they come back for it, we don’t know they left anything behind.”

“Right, right, we don’t know. Go to sleep, everyone go to sleep.” The younger son pushed and shoved everyone out of the kitchen. Liu Liang was the last to leave, looking back once before closing the door.

The two white bags remained where they were, standing out even more starkly against the blackened stove.

The Liu household fell silent, but no one had fully closed their door, and no one had gone to sleep.

They watched, listened, and waited.