Chapter 62: The Heavy Package

Xu Da sealed the memorial—which was sandwiched with the "Classic of Mountains and Seas Shopping List" and his painstakingly edited imperial report—inside a wax ball, yet his heart remained entirely unsettled.

Looking at the two characters "Yingtian Prefecture" on the map, a thought suddenly popped into his mind.

This errand required someone absolutely trustworthy and of substantial weight.

A person came to mind.

A man known as "Zhu Hu," who, right under his very nose, had been ruthlessly hammered by that fat fellow from a pampered prince into a humanoid fierce beast.

It was time for His Highness the Prince of Yan to go home for a visit.

"You are heading back to Yingtian Prefecture?"

In Fan Tong's tent, as he was handing a freshly roasted lamb chop to Zhu Di, his movements paused upon hearing these words.

Zhu Di accepted the lamb chop and nodded silently.

"By General Xu's order, I am tasked with escorting classified military documents back to the capital."

Fan Tong did not probe further. He knew that this so-called "classified military document" most likely had an inseparable connection to his own bottle of "divine immortal oil" and that "heavenly book."

He turned around, rummaging through a pile of miscellaneous items for a long while before pulling out a thick, old roster with frayed and curled edges. This was the roster of all the brothers in the vanguard camp, with every name followed by their place of origin and family background marked in vermilion ink, varying in shade.

Those who had already died in battle were marked with a black circle around their names.

Fan Tong's fingers traced over those black circles one by one. With every circle he brushed past, his heart felt as though it had been pricked by a needle.

"Wu Mang, native of Hejian Prefecture, survived by his elderly father, widowed mother, and young younger brother..."

"Liu Sanpao, native of Dongchang Prefecture in Shandong, survived by a wife and two daughters..."

"..."

He recited six names in succession, his voice growing lower and lower.

He raised his head, looking at Zhu Di, a complex emotion flickering in his small eyes that Zhu Di had never seen before.

"Zhu Hu, heading south this time, it's on your way."

From the deepest corner of the tent, Fan Tong dragged out several heavy, large parcels wrapped tightly in oilcloth. He did not say what was inside, but simply pushed a slip of paper inscribed with place names and personal names, along with the six parcels, in front of Zhu Di.

"These were bought with their lives; at the very least, leave some mementos for their families."

"And this." Fan Tong produced another, smaller parcel and handed it over.

Zhu Di opened it. Inside lay the great banner bearing the character "Wang" (King), long since dyed dark red with blood and mud.

"That fellow Wu Mang was a bit foolish, but he protected this thing until his dying breath," Fan Tong said, his voice somewhat hoarse. "Take it back and show it to his family. Let them know his son was a real man."

Zhu Di looked at the seven heavy parcels before him, and at Fan Tong's eyes, which had lost their frivolous playfulness and retained only exhaustion and solemnity.

He said nothing, merely reaching out and loading the seven parcels one by one onto his horse's back.

The weight made the saddle creak and pressed heavily upon his shoulders.

The return journey was a long and heavy road.

Zhu Di traveled alone with his horse, braving the wind and sleeping in the open. The saber at his waist was cold, but the parcels against his chest were burning hot.

He delivered the first parcel.

It was a long-ruined village where even the stone tablet at the entrance was broken in two. An elderly village chief leaning on a crutch told him that last year's military calamities had destroyed this Zhang family; the entire household had perished, their home burned to the ground, leaving behind only crumbling ruins.

Zhu Di stood before the ruins for a long time before finally burying that parcel silently beneath the foundation of the old house.

He delivered the second parcel.

The door was opened by a white-haired old woman. When she saw the notice of death, she was past crying; clutching the doorframe, her body shook violently until her eyes rolled back and she fainted. From within the house came the frightened cries of several children.

He delivered the third parcel.

A sharp-tongued woman took the items without even glancing at them, merely cursing coldly, "I knew he'd die out there! Never sent a single copper coin home while he was alive, but now that he's dead, he's worth a bit of money!"

Zhu Di said not a word and turned to leave, though the veins stood out on the hand gripping his saber hilt.

By the time the fifth parcel was delivered, Zhu Di felt as though his heart had grown numb.

Those weeping, those apathetic, those full of complaints sliced through his heart like blunt knives, over and over again.

At last, he reached his final destination.

Hejian Prefecture, Wu Family Village.

The courtyard wall was made of sparse wicker fencing, though the house itself featured newly built blue bricks and gray tiles, with only the doors and windows looking somewhat aged.

Zhu Di straightened his soldier's uniform, which had long since been washed to a pale white, and stepped forward to knock on the courtyard gate.

"Who is it?"

The door creaked open, and an old man leaning on a crutch, his hair white and his back severely hunched, peered out. His clouded eyes sized up Zhu Di with vigilance as he spoke, "Military officer, is something the matter? If it's about conscription, our family... truly has no men left."

"My eldest son died in the south a few years ago, and my eldest grandson went north with General Xu. Now, there's only a daughter-in-law and a five-year-old grandson left..." As the old man spoke, the rims of his eyes reddened.

At that moment, a woman dressed in coarse hemp and plain cloth walked out from the house. Upon seeing the military uniform on Zhu Di, her face turned pale as paper, her body swaying slightly as she bit down hard on her lower lip.

Zhu Di's heart felt as though it had been clenched by a giant hand.

Lowering his head, he drew the notice of death from his bosom and handed it over with both hands.

Seeing the familiar official document stamped with the seal of the Ministry of War, the old man froze entirely. He had already received one such notice once before; now, another had arrived.

His hands shook like withered leaves in an autumn gale as he tremulously accepted the thin sheet of paper, which felt heavier than a thousand jun.

"My... my Mang'er... he..." The old man's eyes brimmed with tears, his voice trembling beyond recognition. "Was he... in battle... valiant?"

Zhu Di abruptly raised his head, stood at attention, gave the old man a standard military salute, and shouted with all his might:

"Wu Mang, Centurion of the Vanguard Camp, slew dozens of enemies! In the battle north of the ridges, fighting alone against the vanguard, he seized the Yuan army commander's great banner bearing the character 'Wang' from amidst tens of thousands of troops, and died a heroic martyr!"

"Valiant and fearless!!"

The final four words were practically roared by Zhu Di as he unfurled the banner that Wu Mang had bought with his life.

Hearing this, the old man shuddered all over. His wrinkled face suddenly smoothed out, and a startling brilliance burst forth from his clouded, aged eyes.

Instead of crying, he threw back his head and laughed aloud.

"Splendid! Truly splendid!"

"Magnificent! A fine son of the Wu family!"

After the laughter subsided, his already stooped back seemed to collapse a bit further, aging him by a decade in a single instant.

By the doorway, the woman was already bathed in tears, sobbing uncontrollably.

Zhu Di solemnly handed the imperial compensation and the official document granting Wu Mang's younger brother the rank of "sub-centurion" to the old man, and placed Fan Tong's largest parcel along with the banner upon the threshold.

"Elder, this is... a token of sentiment pooled together by Wu Mang's comrades-in-arms."

Looking at the bulging parcel and then at Zhu Di, the old man moved his lips as if wanting to say something, but finally said in a hoarse voice, "Military officer... come inside... and have a sip of water."

"No need." Zhu Di took a step back, saluted once more, "Military duties press upon me, I dare not delay! Farewell!"

With that, refusing to linger a moment longer, he practically fled as he turned and hurried away down the official road leading south.

His retreating figure appeared both heavy and flustered.