At the beginning of the summer when Hui Ge’er was seventeen, Guogong Yé passed away due to illness.

Zhao Huanrong, who was already serving as the city garrison commander, received the news and hurried back to the capital overnight with his seventeen-year-old eldest son and fifteen-year-old second son to attend the funeral.

By the time the funeral was over, it was early autumn.

Zhao Huanrong returned to Liaodong with his eldest son, leaving his second son, Zhao Yucun, in the capital to continue his studies.

Zhao Huanxi inherited the noble title, and the descendants of the five branches divided the family estate according to Guogong Yé’s will. Lao Taitai, who had suffered a stroke, was still alive and will be cared for by the Fifth Branch as arranged by Guogong Yé.

After the other four branches gradually moved out of the Guogong residence, the once-busy mansion suddenly became quiet.

Yin Furen replaced all the furniture in the Lingde Hall, where Lao Taitai resided before, redecorated it, and moved in herself. She then gave the Jiaxiang House to Xu Nian’an.

Hui Ge’er and Chun Jie’er were each given their own courtyards. Eleven-year-old Tong Ge’er and eight-year-old Huai Ge’er, being still young, continued to live with Xu Nian’an in the Jiaxiang House.

Since Zhao Mingkun had been expelled from the family clan, Zhao Huanxi, as the heir grandson, had to observe three years of mourning for Guogong Yé on behalf of his father. During this period of mourning, he stayed home and, apart from painting and calligraphy, focused on supervising the studies of his two younger sons.

Hui Ge’er, gifted and intelligent, had passed the Tongshi Examination early. If not for Guogong Yé’s passing, he would have been eligible to participate in this year’s autumn Imperial Examinations.

He had been personally trained in martial arts by Guogong Yé since childhood, often bringing him joy and comfort. Their bond was deep. Due to past illnesses and injuries, Guogong Yé had been bedridden for over two years before his death. Although everyone had been mentally prepared for his passing, when it finally happened, Hui Ge’er was still deeply grieved and reluctant to let go.

That afternoon, Xu Nian’an had just sent Zhao Huanxi to the study when Hui Ge’er suddenly arrived.

Xu Nian’an was a little surprised; today wasn’t a ten-day break.

“Mom, I have something I want to discuss with you,” Hui Ge’er said as he entered.

“What is it?” Xu Nian’an motioned for him to sit and take his time while sipping her tea.

“Mom, I…” Hui Ge’er, not one to hesitate, suddenly seemed unsure of how to phrase his thoughts as he started speaking.

Xu Nian’an waited patiently, not rushing him.

After a moment, Hui Ge’er’s hand, resting on the edge of the table, clenched into a fist. He raised his eyes to Xu Nian’an and said solemnly, “Mom, I want to leave the capital and travel to see the world beyond.”

Before Xu Nian’an could respond, he looked away, his face showing shame. “I know that Tai Yéye has just passed, and the household has been going through upheavals. I shouldn’t leave at a time like this. As the eldest brother, acting this way sets a poor example for my younger siblings. But I… I truly cannot find peace within myself.”

“Go ahead. You can go wherever you wish. Your father and I won’t stop you,” Xu Nian’an said.

Hui Ge’er froze, lifting his eyes once more to look at his mother.

“You are the eldest son of your father and me, born with great responsibilities on your shoulders. One day, you will be like your father is now, shouldering the rise and fall, the honor and disgrace, of the entire family. If you wish to take advantage of this time, while your father and I are still young and the household doesn’t require your oversight, to go out and see the world, you may. Don’t overthink it,” Xu Nian’an said gently.

His mother’s understanding attitude only deepened Hui Ge’er‘s sense of guilt. Struggling with his emotions, he said, “But…”

“But what? ‘When parents are alive, do not travel far’?” Xu Nian’an smiled. “Have you forgotten the next part? ‘If one must travel, it must be with purpose’. When you’re out there, don’t forget to write back whenever you reach a new place to let us know you’re safe. That will set your father’s and my hearts at ease.”

Hui Ge’er slowly nodded.

Xu Nian’an added, “I’ll speak to your father about this, but as for your Zumu, you’ll need to talk to her yourself.”

“I plan to take Zumu with me,” Hui Ge’er said.

This time, it was Xu Nian’an who was stunned. “Take your Zumu with you?”

Hui Ge’er nodded and explained, “I’ve often heard Zumu talk about wanting to return to Jinling. Now that she finally has some leisure, I’d like to take her there to see it.”

“But your Zumu is sixty-five years old. Such a long journey, who knows if her health will hold up?” Xu Nian’an said with some concern.

“Zumu is still relatively healthy. We can travel by water and take our time. It should be manageable. Besides, though she is sixty-five now, this is also the youngest she’ll be for the rest of her life. If we don’t go now, I fear it will only become more difficult in the future,” Hui Ge’er replied.

Xu Nian’an thought for a while and said, “You should first discuss it with your Zumu and see if she’s willing to go.”

Hui Ge’er went to speak with her, and about an hour later, he returned, saying that Zumu wished to wait until the mourning period was over before returning to Jinling. However, she gave her blessing for him to travel and explore.

With that settled, Xu Nian’an went to discuss the matter with Zhao Huanxi.

When Zhao Huanxi heard that Hui Ge’er wanted to go out and see the world, he sighed and said, “Twelve years ago, we wanted to travel and left him behind. Now it’s his turn to travel and leave us behind, it’s only fair. He has his martial arts skills to protect him. Let’s send two attendants and four guards to accompany him and ensure his safety.”

“I think when he said he wanted to ‘go out and explore,’ he meant going alone, on horseback,” Xu Nian’an said.

Zhao Huanxi: “……” The words “How can we possibly feel at ease?” were at the tip of his tongue, but in the end, he couldn’t bring himself to say them.

No matter how uneasy it made him, could it be any more nerve-wracking than when he himself had gone to the battlefield years ago?

Such is the cycle of life: once you become a parent, you inevitably come to understand the struggles your own parents once faced.

He left the study and went to Hui Ge’er’s courtyard. There, Hui Ge’er was packing his belongings. Seeing his father enter, he immediately stopped and stepped forward to greet him.

Zhao Huanxi looked at his eldest son, who so closely resembled himself in appearance yet carried an air of calm composure that was all his own. His heart was tangled in countless worries, but in the end, he only managed to ask, “If you’re going out to explore, where do you plan to go?”

Hui Ge’er spread out a map on the table. Zhao Huanxi looked at it and saw that the routes had already been meticulously planned. From the departure point in the capital, the map detailed which roads to take, which destinations to visit, what scenic spots to explore, and even which famous figures or hermits to call upon. Everything was written out clearly, with every aspect considered, there was no need for him to give any reminders.

After examining it for a long while, Zhao Huanxi realized the only thing left for him to ask was about the return date.

“If I can visit all these places before my twentieth birthday, I’ll return by then. If not, I’ll still return before the birthday. However, after the celebration, I hope Father and Mother will allow me to continue my journey to complete the rest,” Hui Ge’er said.

Zhao Huanxi nodded and tentatively suggested, “The journey is long. Perhaps bringing along a few attendants and guards would make things more convenient.”

Hui Ge’er shook his head and said, “I have my martial arts skills to rely on, as well as self-made mechanical devices for defense. When I’m out, I’ll dress plainly so no one can tell I come from a wealthy background. Dad doesn’t need to worry about my safety.”

Zhao Huanxi’s eyes grew misty, though he worked hard to hold back his emotions. “When you become a parent yourself, you’ll understand that no matter how much a child says everything will be fine, parents can’t help but worry.”

Hui Ge’er didn’t know how to respond, so he changed the topic. “Dad, after I leave, if you have free time, please spend more of it with Zumu. She’s getting older and no longer needs to manage the household. If she’s left alone too often, she might dwell on things.”

“Don’t worry about your Zumu. With your mother around, she won’t be lonely,” Zhao Huanxi reassured him.

“And about my sister,” Hui Ge’er continued. “These days, both she and Shuming Biao Mei are renowned for their beauty, and many are eyeing them. While I was at the academy, even the Thirteenth Prince came by to curry favor with me. Don’t let her marry into a family of royal descendants. Those men rarely stay loyal to their wives for life. She should marry someone who will treat her the way you treat Mother.”

At the mention of his daughter’s marriage, Zhao Huanxi immediately perked up, his fighting spirit ignited. “Naturally, that goes without saying.”

Seeing his father’s attention successfully diverted, Hui Ge’er breathed a quiet sigh of relief, glad he no longer looked on the verge of tears.

With the family’s approval for his journey, Hui Ge’er spent a few days bidding farewell to relatives, teachers, and friends in the capital. Finally, under the reluctant and tearful gazes of his grandmother, parents, and siblings, he set off on a journey that was entirely his own.

Hui Ge’er first went to Liaodong, where his uncle Zhao Huanrong took him to Baishi Gorge, the site where his father’s battles took place. There, he saw the names of ninety-seven fallen soldiers engraved on the cliffside.

He visited his father’s old comrade, Cao Sandao. Although he had survived the Baishi Gorge battle, his injuries had been too severe for him to participate in the court’s subsequent campaigns against the Tiele. Now, he served as an advisor under Zhao Huanrong and lived a comfortable life with his family.

After leaving Guangning, Hui Ge’er traveled to Datong Prefecture, the hometown of another of his father’s comrades, Squad Leader Lu Xiaolin, who had fought and survived alongside his father.

Back then, Lu Xiaolin had worried about finding a husband for his daughter, but she was long since married now, with five children—three sons and two daughters. Her husband ran a suantang (sour soup) lamb restaurant. Though short in stature, he was solidly built, talkative, and kind-hearted.

Hui Ge’er stopped by the man’s suantang lamb restaurant, enjoying a pot of sour soup lamb. Later, he wrote to his father, updating him on Lu Xiaolin and his family’s well-being.

After leaving Datong Prefecture, Hui Ge’er traveled further, arriving in Qingyang Prefecture near Pingliang in the Second Month of the following year.

One day, as he was walking down the street leading his horse, he suddenly heard someone call out, “Huanxi, Huanxi?”

He stopped and turned around, spotting a frail, emaciated old man in tattered clothes struggling to stand against the wall. When the man got a better look at his face, he froze, then quickly apologized, “I’m sorry, I mistook you for someone else.”

After a brief pause, Hui Ge’er walked over to him and asked, “Lao Xiansheng, do I resemble someone you know?”

Zhao Mingkun stared at his face—so strikingly similar to Zhao Huanxi’s—his expression complicated. Slowly, he nodded. “Very much so, but he’s older than you.”

Hui Ge’er said, “A chance meeting is fate. Lao Xiansheng, how about I treat you to a meal?”

“Why?” Zhao Mingkun asked. Having fallen into destitution, he had long ceased to feel kindness from others. Faced with this unexpected invitation from a young man who bore an uncanny resemblance to his legitimate son, he found himself unprepared and uneasy.

“I’m traveling to explore the world,” Hui Ge’er replied. “Along the way, I enjoy seeing the sights and hearing stories. You are older and must have many stories to share. I’ll buy you a meal, and in return, you tell me some stories. How about it?”

Zhao Mingkun responded, “I don’t have any good stories to tell.”

“I’m not particular about whether the stories are good or not. Let’s go,” Hui Ge’er said with a smile.

Zhao Mingkun leaned heavily on a thick tree branch he used as a cane, his hunched back trembling as he shuffled along. His emaciated body seemed as though it might collapse at any moment.

With every few steps, Zhao Mingkun had to stop and rest. The phrase “the oil running out and the candle flickering to extinguish, a candle in the wind at the end of its years” was vividly embodied in his frail form.

The idiom "油尽灯枯" literally translates to "the oil is exhausted, and the lamp is extinguished." It metaphorically means that life is nearing its end, deteriorating until death.
"风烛残年" refers to the flickering candlelight in the wind, symbolizing the remaining years of life. It is used as a metaphor to describe a person in their old age, fragile and easily extinguished like a candle in the wind, or to indicate someone who is aging and near the end of their life.

At the entrance to the tavern, there were three steps he couldn’t manage to climb. Hui Ge’er extended a hand to support him.

Zhao Mingkun looked alarmed. “I’m filthy. Be careful not to dirty your clothes.”

“It’s no bother,” Hui Ge’er replied calmly.

He helped Zhao Mingkun into the tavern. The server, covering his nose, approached and asked Hui Ge’er, “Keguan, what is this…”

“Take my horse to the back courtyard, prepare two rooms, and bring a bucket of hot water,” Hui Ge’er instructed, tossing a silver ingot to the server. The man’s face lit up with delight as he hurried off to comply.

Once the rooms were ready and the hot water delivered, Hui Ge’er handed the server another silver ingot and instructed him to visit a tailor’s shop to purchase some sturdy clothing.

After taking a bath, Zhao Mingkun changed into the newly bought set of clothes. He tied up his mess of all-white hair, and the illness on his hollowed face became even more pronounced.

Hui Ge’er ordered a table full of dishes and wine, and the two of them started eating in the room.

Zhao Mingkun had lost most of his teeth, so he ate the food in large bites, and after drinking three cups of wine, a bit of color finally returned to his cheeks.

He asked Hui Ge’er, “Young man, where are you going to?”

Hui Ge’er replied, “To Chengdu, to see the lotus flowers, and pass through the Jianmen Pass.”

Zhao Mingkun nodded, “When you’re young, it’s good to go out and experience the world, see more of it. It’s quite good.”

“And you?” Hui Ge’er asked. “From your accent, you are not a local. Why did you end up here? Have you no home anymore?”

Zhao Mingkun said, “I haven’t had a home for more than ten years.”

“What happened? Natural disaster? Man-made calamity?”

Zhao Mingkun gave a bitter smile. “I brought it upon myself.”

He drank another cup of wine, looked at Hui Ge’er, and said, “Looking at my current sorry state, you surely wouldn’t have guessed that I once came from a wealthy and noble family, with a prominent background.”

Hui Ge’er put down his chopsticks and focused intently on him, his expression one of attentive listening.

“I was the legitimate eldest son in my family, born with everything. The servants flattered me, my mother doted on me, and my father was often away on official duties. Relatives and friends all knew that I was going to inherit the family title, and everyone looked up to me. At that time, I was young and arrogant, always being flattered by others, slowly losing my sense of humility. I spent my days with bad companions, indulging in drinking, playing, and enjoying myself without learning anything worthwhile. I thought, with the family’s wealth, everything would eventually be mine, so what if I acted recklessly?

“When I was fifteen, my mother fell seriously ill, and my father rushed back home from his official post. He discovered that I had become a failure, so he began to strictly discipline me. I had never suffered any hardship, and I wasn’t close to him. The more he tried to control me, the more I resented him. At that time, he was busy with his official duties and had no time to deal with me. So, I continued to do whatever I wanted, beyond his reach.

“My mother passed away, and a year later, my father remarried, saying he needed someone to look after and manage us brothers. My stepmother rarely interfered with me, and even when I made mistakes, she would always hide it from my father. At the time, I thought she was good, but later… haha!”

Hui Ge’er filled his empty wine cup, and Zhao Mingkun, with a trembling hand, picked it up and slowly drank it all in one go.

“My stepmother’s little schemes didn’t go unnoticed by my father. He saw that she wasn’t suitable, so when I turned eighteen, he arranged a marriage for me. She was a highborn lady, virtuous and capable. There’s actually nothing wrong with her, but at the time, I was a complete mess. I knew she had been brought in by my father to manage me, so I didn’t like her from the start. She was stubborn, and seeing I didn’t show her any kindness, she didn’t try to flatter me. We were married in name only, living under the same roof but with different dreams.

“Later on, I met a woman outside. She flattered me, understood me, and tried to please me. Since my mother’s death, nothing had gone right for me, and being with her brought a temporary peace to my heart. I took her in as a concubine. And then…”

Zhao Mingkun stretched out his withered, rough hands and rubbed his face a couple of times. His murky eyes fixed on the wine cup in front of him as he said, “I indulged the concubine and mistreated my wife, harshly treated my legitimate sons and daughters, and did every despicable thing a husband and father should never do. Later, a change occurred in the family, and I left with my concubine and illegitimate son. Like father, like son—my illegitimate son, whom I had spoiled since childhood, saw that I no longer had a family property to pass on to him. He took the little money I had left and abandoned me. Fifteen years ago, I was sick, poor, and abandoned. My concubine went with my two granddaughters to work as laborers to support the family. One day, she went out and never came back. I don’t know if she was abducted or left on her own.”

Hui Ge’er looked at him and asked, “After all these years, didn’t you ever think of going back to see them?”

Zhao Mingkun shook his head. “I have no face to do so.”

Hui Ge’er didn’t say anything more, only adding a few more dishes onto his plate.

After a while, Zhao Mingkun suddenly asked him, “Is your family doing well?”

Hui Ge’er replied, “My great-grandfather passed away last year. Zumu is still alive and in good health. I am my father’s eldest son, with a younger sister and two younger brothers. My father never took a concubine, and he and my mother have a loving marriage. Everyone is doing well.”

Zhao Mingkun’s eyes grew moist, and he lowered his head, murmuring, “That’s… that’s really good, really good.”

In the afternoon, Zhao Mingkun fell asleep in the room that Hui Ge’er had arranged for him.

He hadn’t had a drink in a long time, hadn’t had a full meal in a long time, and hadn’t slept in a proper bed for a long time. Once he lay down, he fell into a deep sleep.

Hui Ge’er had a physician come to check his pulse, but Zhao Mingkun did not wake up.

After examining him, the physician came out and shook his head at Hui Ge’er. He said, “His illness has reached the final stage. What we’re seeing now is just a brief resurgence, but Gongzi, please be prepared for the worst.”

As the physician had said, once Zhao Mingkun fell asleep, he never opened his eyes again. By the following midday, he had passed away.

Hui Ge’er bought a coffin for him, hired people, and buried him in a forest on the outskirts of Qingyang City, without erecting a tombstone.

A tombstone would give him a name and a surname, so in the future, if no one would come to pay respects, it would be too desolate.

Hui Ge’er stood in front of the grave for a long time.

Since he was young, Zufu had always been a mystery to him. He had never met him, and when he asked his Zumu, she always said he was dead. Yet, his name was not in the family records, and there was no memorial tablet for him in the ancestral hall.

Zumu was strict, and while there were many servants in the household, none dared to speak of his Zufu in front of him. Whenever he asked, they would only claim they didn’t know. It was only once, when he overheard his Si Shu Zumu mentioned casually, that he learned his Zufu had been expelled from the family by his great-grandfather.

Now, this mystery in his heart was finally solved.

After leaving the forest, Hui Ge’er rode his horse to the official road. To the west was Chengdu, and to the east was the way back to the capital.

He hesitated for a brief moment, then took the reins and turned his horse’s head east, heading back to the capital.

Though he hadn’t fully explored the outside world yet, he felt that it was time for him to return home.

⟡ Aewoo’s Ramble ⟡

Well, this chapter is pretty sad. I never thought I would cry reading about Zhao Mingkun, but here we are. His ending is tragic, but he reaped what he sowed.