As Li Ying had expected, before the Tenth Month had even arrived, Guangning had already started to snow.

When the snow on the ground had accumulated to two inches thick, Cao Sandao and Zhao Huanxi left the main camp together.

In the camp, only those with the rank of squad leader or higher were allowed to leave during peacetime. Specifically, the higher the rank, the more opportunities they had to leave. For someone like Zhao Huanxi, as long as he was willing, he could apply for approval from Li Ying and leave the camp. However, someone like Cao Sandao, a small squad leader, had to count the days and wait. Even though his home was in Guangning city, he could only return two or three times a year. Even so, compared to many soldiers who, once enlisted, could not go home for years or even decades, it was already much better.

Upon entering the city, Zhao Huanxi noticed many beggars. In the cold weather, each of them was in rags, begging along the streets, and there were quite a few children among them.

“Are these refugees? Did they escape from Shangyang and Qushi?” Zhao Huanxi asked Cao Sandao.

Cao Sandao sighed. “Most of them are, but some others… they lost their homes in the earthquake half a year ago and couldn’t rebuild. It’s truly misfortune upon misfortune.”

Zhao Huanxi saw a boy and a girl by the roadside. The boy appeared a bit older, maybe just over ten years old, while the girl looked no older than five or six. Both were dressed in torn clothes, barefoot on the snow, their skin blue with frostbite.

He couldn’t bear to watch and reached into his pouch to pull out some silver, but Cao Sandao stopped him, saying, “Don’t give them money. These children won’t be able to keep it. They’ll be robbed.”

Zhao Huanxi looked around at the adults begging nearby and quickly understood. Seeing a buns shop ahead, he walked in and bought all the steamed buns in the shop, distributing them to the nearby beggars, leaving four for the two children.

“Where are your parents, your family?” While the children wolfed down the buns, Zhao Huanxi squatted in front of them and asked gently.

The boy swallowed the bun in his mouth with great effort, his voice hoarse and expression blank as he said, “They’re all dead. It’s just me and my sister now.”

Zhao Huanxi looked at their frail, emaciated bodies, exposed through the holes in their clothes, and his heart sank. He knew that without help, these two children would not survive the winter. Without parents, even if they could beg for food and winter clothes from kind-hearted people, they wouldn’t be able to protect themselves.

And such children, looking around, there were not just one or two on this street.

Cao Sandao could see that Zhao Huanxi’s mood was growing heavy. As they continued walking forward, he said, “This is the way it is in border cities. Once war breaks out, the city becomes flooded with refugees, and the streets are filled with the dead. As for Guangning’s defense, they are already stretched thin just ensuring the army’s supply of food and provisions. They simply don’t have the resources to care for these displaced people. Allowing them into the city is already the greatest act of mercy.”

Zhao Huanxi nodded.

He had no intention of blaming anyone. Everyone had their own struggles, and what seemed easy to him, such as having a full meal or wearing warm clothes, was a monumental challenge for the pair of brother and sister. Therefore, one should never apply their own standards to judge others.

If you want the current situation to change, you must take action yourself. This was a lesson Dong Jiejie had taught him, and it was something he had always remembered.

After winding through several alleys, they arrived at Cao Sandao’s home. It was a very narrow alley, and the yard was no bigger than a palm’s breadth. Once you entered, everything in the house was immediately visible.

From the small kitchen on the right, the sound of a spatula clashing against the pot could be heard, and smoke was rising from the chimney.

In the main room, two girls around five or six years old were sitting at the table, drawing and writing. When they heard the noise in the yard, they turned around, stared for a moment, then shouted “Dad!” and ran toward Cao Sandao.

Cao Sandao dropped the items he was carrying and, with one daughter in each arm, lifted them up. He grinned widely, his eyes crinkling with the joy of a father’s smile.

A woman with a round face, wearing a dark blue floral jacket, appeared at the door of the kitchen, holding a copper ladle. Upon seeing Cao Sandao, she loudly scolded, “You rogue! You come back and don’t even say a word? We haven’t bought any groceries!”

Cao Sandao shouted back, “How was I supposed to tell you? Can’t you see I brought back chicken and fish? Hurry up and get them inside, so we can cook. You old nag, talking too much!”

Zhao Huanxi, standing by, found it both amusing and thought-provoking. The variety of life was vast. Although the outward expressions were starkly different, the essence of it all remained the same.

At noon, Cao Sandao’s eldest son, who had been working outside, and his second son, who studied at a local school, both returned home for the meal. The family gathered around the table, the atmosphere was lively and joyful.

Cao Sandao didn’t mention that Zhao Huanxi was the General Yunhui from the capital, he only said he was a little brother from the camp, so the entire Cao Family felt completely at ease in his presence.

“Zhao Shushu, you’re so handsome, just like the immortals Auntie talks about!” During the meal, one of Cao Sandao’s six-year-old twin daughters stared at Zhao Huanxi, her eyes wide.

Zhao Huanxi chuckled and said to the little girl, “Shushu isn’t an immortal. Shushu is just a mortal, one who gets beaten by your father every day.”

The little girl immediately became proud, lifting her small face and saying, “It looks like my dad didn’t beat your face. Don’t feel bad, though, because my dad is the strongest!”

Everyone burst into laughter at the little girl’s words.

After a pleasant lunch, Cao Sandao’s eldest son went out to work, and his second son went to study. Cao Sandao then took Zhao Huanxi to the bathhouse.

After soaking for a while in the steaming hot water, Cao Sandao took a cloth and began to scrub Zhao Huanxi’s back. Zhao Huanxi said, “Cao Da Ge, I want to write a letter home, asking my family to gather some winter supplies and send them over to help these refugees through the winter. If possible, could your wife help coordinate this?”

Cao Sandao replied, “She doesn’t have much to do anyway, so she can certainly help. But with Liaodong being so far from the capital, I’m afraid distant water won’t be able to quench a nearby fire.”

远水救不了近火 - a well known phrase that means a slow remedy cannot meet an urgency.

Zhao Huanxi thought about it and realized that even if he wrote a letter home and his family managed to gather supplies, it would take at least three or four months for them to be sent over. By then, those who were starving or freezing would likely already have perished.

“Zhao Jiangjun,” Cao Sandao said, as if reading his thoughts, “Just like you told my daughter, we are all mortals. As mortals, there are times when we’re powerless. You don’t need to worry too much. The fact that you even have this intention already puts you ahead of most people.”

Zhao Huanxi had originally planned to visit Yisu after his bath. After he arrived in Liaodong, Yisu had come to the camp to deliver items and a letter to him, informing him of her and Huanrong’s whereabouts, as well as the news of Huanrong’s reassignment to Ruidong Fort. But with so much weighing on his mind, he decided not to go.

The two of them left the bathhouse, with Zhao Huanxi returning to the camp and Cao Sandao heading home. He could stay the night at home and return to the camp tomorrow morning.

When Zhao Huanxi returned to his tent, he found three letters from home and a package on the table. He picked up the letters one by one, recognizing the handwriting. One was from his mother, another from Dong Jiejie, and the third—astonishingly—was from his grandfather.

Zufu had woken up?!

Excited, Zhao Huanxi quickly opened the letter. Indeed, Zufu had awoken, but his legs were still not strong enough for walking, so he could no longer come to Liaodong. Zufu told him not to fear Li Ying, saying that although he appeared cold on the outside, he was warm-hearted. He also said that he was proud of Zhao Huanxi.

After finishing his grandfather’s letter, Zhao Huanxi turned to his mother’s letter. As always, his mother had asked him about every detail of his life here, and she mentioned the matter of San Jie’s marriage, telling him not to worry about the family, as everything was well at home.

Finally, he read Dong Jiejie’s letter. Knowing that his mother would likely ask about his daily life, she hadn’t inquired much on that front, but instead, she had written in detail about the day San Jie got married. Her words were simple and unadorned, yet she vividly depicted the scenes, as if a painting were slowly unfolding before his eyes. How his mother had been reluctant to part with San Jie, yet had been made to smile through the teasing of Er Jie and Si Jie; how Xuan Jie’er had bravely led the servants in blocking Lu Feng and his men from breaking into the gate; how Nie Guocheng, when proposing to duel with Lu Feng, had been pushed aside by others using the excuse that he was not from the Zhao Family…

In many traditional Chinese weddings, there is a playful custom known as "blocking the groom" or "door games," where the bride's family and friends prevent the groom and his party from entering the wedding venue or taking the bride away. The groom must complete various tasks or challenges, often set by the bridesmaids or the bride's relatives, to prove his sincerity and worthiness.

Zhao Huanxi chuckled as he read. After reading Dong Jiejie’s letter twice, he carefully put all three letters away and then went to the main tent to find Li Ying.

“Li Jiangjun, today when I went out of the camp, I saw many refugees in Guangning City. They were poorly clothed, starving, and sleeping on the streets, with no one to help them. If nothing is done, most of them won’t survive the winter. I want to give them a chance at survival and hope you can grant me an order allowing me to enter and exit the camp freely.”

Li Ying looked up from the map he was studying, gazing at him, and asked, “How do you plan to give them a chance?”

“First, I will use my identity as the heir grandson of Jing Guogong to ask the grain and cloth merchants in the city for credit, so that the refugees can be fed and clothed. Then, I will negotiate with the defenders of Guangning to find a place where they can set up shelters to withstand the wind and snow this winter. I’ll also write home to ask my mother to gather supplies and money in the capital. Then, I will have my grandfather petition the court to have the nearby cities send food and cloth to us for emergency relief, and later, the capital can replenish those supplies. Do you think this is feasible?” Zhao Huanxi asked.

Li Ying nodded. “Go ahead, I’ll issue an order to the guards to allow you free entry and exit without needing a specific decree. But there’s one thing you need to be aware of.” His expression turned serious as he advised, “Among the refugees you’re helping, there will certainly be spies from the Tiele. So, focus only on coordinating the supplies, and avoid directly interacting with the refugees to prevent being targeted or assassinated.”

Zhao Huanxi shuddered, realizing he had overlooked that possibility. He immediately cupped his hands in gratitude and said, “Thanking Li Jiangjun for the remainder.”

As it turned out, the title of “Heir Grandson of Jing Guogong” was highly effective in Liaodong. Li Ying sent a letter to the Guangning garrison, ordering them to send an officer to accompany Zhao Huanxi to the grain and cloth merchants to vouch for his identity. Virtually no one refused to extend credit to him.

With the supplies secured, the garrison arranged for the refugees, and Zhao Huanxi didn’t need to personally oversee the detailed work.

After several busy days, Zhao Huanxi finally had some free time and wrote letters to his family. His letters to his grandfather and mother were requests for assistance, while the one to Dong Jiejie was different from the others.

He had the letters sent back to the capital by fast horse, and half a month later, Jing Guogong, Yin Furen, and Xu Nian’an all received Zhao Huanxi’s letters.

In Yin Furen’s letter, there was also a drawing—the streets of Guangning, filled with refugees, and the image of the barefoot siblings in the snow, orphaned and alone.

As she looked at the drawing, Yin Furen wiped her tears with a handkerchief and said to Nanny Su, “This is too pitiful.”

Nannh Su replied, “Indeed. San Yé’s drawing is so lifelike. With this picture, we won’t have trouble raising the funds.”

Yin Furen nodded and said, “Since he has entrusted this to me, I will make sure to see it through.”

In the letter Xu Nian’an received, there was also the drawing of the siblings, but Zhao Huanxi’s message to him differed from the one he had written to Yin Furen.

“…At first, I had made up my mind to fight in place of Zufu, but in truth, I was very confused inside. I didn’t know what I could do once I arrived in Liaodong. I didn’t know whether leaving home, abandoning you and mother, was right or wrong. After arriving in Guangning, I became even more uncertain, especially when I realized I couldn’t even defeat a common soldier.

“Since the day I saw that pair of siblings in the streets of Guangning, their faces have stayed with me, lingering in my mind, never leaving. That night, I couldn’t sleep, tossing and turning in bed. Then I suddenly realized that I was no longer lost. I knew what I could do, and what I should do. I understood the reason behind my reluctant departure from you and mother, the reason I came to Liaodong alone.

“If I can fight, I will. If I cannot, I will still do whatever I can to give these children a chance to survive. That is what I can do now, what I must do. I don’t have the power to end this war, but whatever little I can do, I will contribute fully—for the sake of these children to live, and for the hope that there will be fewer children like them in the future.

“Dong Jiejie, do you remember last year’s Mid-Autumn Festival when we went out to see the lanterns? You asked if such a time of peace could be credited to the Zhao Family. Back then, I agreed with you, but in my heart, I felt some shame, because the Zhao Family’s contributions were all made by our ancestors, and I had done nothing. But maybe next year, or the year after, when we go out to see the lanterns again, I will be able to say to you with peace of mind: ‘Dong *Jiejie&, look, this era of peace, the Zhao Family has contributed to it’.”

⟡ Aewoo’s Ramble ⟡

The phrase 'grieves for the heavens and pities mankind' in the snippet is from 悲天悯人 (bēi tiān mǐn rén). It is an idiom describing a deeply compassionate or philanthropic heart.