The Innocent Heart - Chapter 79

The spring chill was biting, and though there was no snow, the roads remained difficult to traverse.

Guan Yueyao and Huo Qubing were both participating in an official military march for the first time. Their hearts were filled with excitement, and they found no rest throughout the day.

“Qubing, I didn’t realize that in cavalry warfare, one rider must prepare three horses! Why don’t we have to?” The two youths rode side-by-side on the imperial highway, followed by an army so vast its end could not be seen.

Wei Qing’s contingent had already separated from the other three routes. Now traveling alone on the road to Shanggu Commandery, the numbers were still significant, but it was no longer as spectacular as the scene from a few days prior.

“A military march is different from our usual excursions. Under the pressure of galloping day and night, the men practically live on horseback. If the soldiers can barely stand it, how much less the horses? Rotating between three horses allows the animals to get some rest.”

As Huo Qubing spoke, he reached out and affectionately stroked the head of his horse, Benxiao, which earned him a disgruntled snort. He laughed and continued, “We are different. We are only going as far as Shanggu and won’t be following the army beyond the border. At our current pace, there is naturally no need for three warhorses in rotation.”

Guan Yueyao nodded, understanding the logic behind his words.

Although the army Wei Qing led was officially numbered at ten thousand riders, the actual number of people in the column was far greater. Trailing behind the dense mass of black-armored cavalry was a sprawling caravan of ox-carts and laborers. They followed at the rear to ensure the army’s supplies remained secure.

Guan Yueyao found this fascinating. She frequently broke away from the main column to run among the laborers, observing them with curiosity. Since she was not part of the official campaign roster and her actions did not disrupt military discipline, Wei Qing simply turned a blind eye and let her be.

She quickly noticed the differences between these laborers and the soldiers. While the laborers were also men in their prime, even the sturdy ones were mostly short in stature. Among them were also youths her own age, as well as middle-aged and elderly men whose hair was already touched with frost.

On several occasions, Guan Yueyao saw elderly or very young laborers falling far behind the column due to physical exhaustion. Once again, she spotted a sallow-faced youth whose steps were growing heavier, gradually falling to the very back of the line.

Guan Yueyao couldn’t help but steal a few more glances. She hesitated, wondering if she should pull him onto her horse to give him a lift, but she feared breaking military regulations and did not dare act.

As she wavered, the military officer in charge of overseeing the work clearly noticed the youth’s struggling state.

“Move faster! No slacking!” He swung his whip at the youth’s tottering figure. Following a sharp crack, a tear appeared in the youth’s thin clothing, leaving a bright red welt on his skin.

“Stop!” Guan Yueyao finally could not restrain herself. She galloped over, guiding Chizhou to block the path between the officer and the youth.

“Officer… Young Master Guan, why have you come here?” The officer naturally recognized Guan Yueyao. His anger vanished instantly, replaced by a fawning smile.

“Why did you whip him?” Guan Yueyao frowned, looking at the officer with disapproval.

“This brat is lazy! Look at him—he has the lazy bones of a farm ox. If you don’t give him a few lashes, he doesn’t know how to put in the effort!” The officer continued to offer a groveling smile as he explained.

“Leave this laborer to me. I will watch him; you go catch up with the column.” Guan Yueyao looked displeased and ignored the officer’s words, dismounting her horse instead.

The officer had been worried about falling behind the main force because of this straggler. Hearing Guan Yueyao’s words felt like a divine reprieve; he didn’t think twice before shouting his assent and hurrying back toward the main body of the army.

“Are you all right?” Guan Yueyao walked toward the youth and examined him closely. The boy’s face was deathly pale, his clothes were ragged, and his lips and face were covered in cracks from the wind. It was a pitiful sight.

Hearing her question, the youth’s dull gaze lingered on her face for a moment. He seemed to finally process what was happening and suddenly knelt at Guan Yueyao’s feet, kowtowing heavily several times.

“This lowly one is Zhao Ponu. I thank the Master for saving my life!”

Though she had been in this era for nearly a year, Guan Yueyao was still unaccustomed to kneeling to others, nor did she like others kowtowing to her.

“Don’t do that, don’t do that. It makes me uncomfortable to watch.” She hurriedly bent down to help the youth up, her tone very awkward. Seeing his lips turned purple from the freezing weather, she frowned in sympathy. She simply untied her own cloak and wrapped it around the boy’s shoulders.

The youth was startled by her gesture, looking at her with a mix of terror and confusion. He didn’t understand why this richly dressed noble would treat a commoner like him this way. For a moment, his hands hesitated, as if he wanted to return the cloak, but he couldn’t bear to let go of the warmth of the thick fur.

Grumble… An ill-timed sound erupted from the youth’s stomach, finally bringing a trace of a blush to his face.

“Are you hungry?” Guan Yueyao had clearly heard it. She quickly pulled out a few small cloth bundles from her robe, which contained two pieces of sugar cake.

Unlike the common soldiers and laborers, Wei Qing had specialized orderlies responsible for his meals. Consequently, Guan Yueyao, Huo Qubing, and even Chen Zhi had not suffered even the slightest hunger during the march. These sugar cakes had been specially saved for her by Huo Qubing that morning; he worried she would be bored on the road and had prepared some of her favorite snacks.

“Here, take these to line your stomach.” She held out the sugar cakes with a smile. Thinking he might choke, she untied the water skin from her waist and handed it to him as well.

“Thank you, Master!” Perhaps he was truly starving, for the youth stopped refusing. He took the pastries and the water skin and began to devour them voraciously without even chewing properly.

It wasn’t until the cakes were gone that he truly tasted them—they were actually sweet. Unlike salt, sugar was still a luxury at this time. Unless one were a wealthy merchant or a noble, it was not easy for an ordinary person to eat food seasoned with sugar. Especially not for someone like him—a “defector” who had fled back to the Han from Xiongnu territory…

Zhao Ponu felt a surge of regret; he should have chewed more carefully before swallowing. He looked at the last piece of sugar cake in his hand, hesitating for a moment. Should he eat it now, or hide it away for when he was hungrier later?

Although his family had fled the Xiongnu lands to return to the Great Han, they were destitute. Even when he was conscripted for labor, his family couldn’t afford to provide him with enough rations or travel gear, which led to his current state of near-starvation on the road.

Guan Yueyao saw the youth staring blankly at the small piece of sugar cake. She didn’t overthink it, assuming he had just choked from eating too fast. She offered comfort, “Don’t worry. Once you’re finished, I’ll use my horse to carry you back to the column. I won’t leave you here alone.”

Since returning to the Han, this was the first time someone had spoken to Zhao Ponu with such kindness. His eyes reddened, and he finally shoved the last piece of sugar cake into his mouth. Chewing slowly, unwilling to swallow, he knelt once more and bowed solemnly to Guan Yueyao.

This time, the gesture felt exceptionally sincere.

“I thank the Master for saving my life. This lowly one is willing to work like an ox or a horse for you!” Because his mouth was full of food, the youth’s words were muffled, but his emotion was genuine.

Guan Yueyao gave a wry smile and pulled him up again. “I only gave you a few sugar cakes, and now you want to be an ox or a horse for me? It’s not worth it! A human life is worth more than a thousand pieces of gold. How could I trick you into giving your life for me for just a few cakes? You just need to live well—consider that your repayment to me!”

Guan Yueyao spoke with great gravity. She said exactly what she thought. Perhaps no matter how many decades she lived in this strictly hierarchical era, she would never be able to view those of lower status as mere animals.

The youth’s mind couldn’t quite process her words. He just stared at the noble in front of him, his mouth still moving as he chewed, looking rather comical. After watching him for a moment, Guan Yueyao finally couldn’t help but laugh.

“Are you finished? If you’re finished, let’s get back to the group!”

Zhao Ponu continued to stare at her, nodding blankly. He watched as the youth of a similar age flipped himself onto the horse with agile grace and then reached a hand out to him once more.

“Can you ride?” she asked with a smile.

“I can!” he replied urgently, as if fearing she would look down on him. Then he reached out and took her hand. He felt his arm tighten, and just like that, he was pulled up onto the horse’s back.

“A-Yao, where did you go?!” As soon as Guan Yueyao returned to the column with Zhao Ponu, she saw Huo Qubing galloping toward her.

The anxiety on his face had not yet faded, and because of that, his expression turned even more sour when he saw the youth behind her.

Guan Yueyao didn’t answer him directly. She simply helped Zhao Ponu down from the horse. “Go on then. I imagine that officer won’t trouble you again.”

After offering a final word of advice, Guan Yueyao eagerly turned to meet her friend.

Zhao Ponu watched the youth leave with a lingering sense of reluctance, only to see another youth dressed even more richly staring at him with a cold, unfriendly gaze. The encounter just now still felt as unreal as a dream, but that icy look acted like a bucket of cold water, waking him up instantly.

Zhao Ponu finally realized that he and “Guan Yueyao” did not belong to the same world. Only the richly dressed youth riding beside her was qualified to be her friend.

“A-Yao, don’t run off on your own like that next time without saying a word. When my uncle asked for your whereabouts just now, I had to cover for you!”

The youth’s quiet whispering was carried to Zhao Ponu’s ears by the breeze. He lowered his eyes and touched the water skin at his waist. It was the gift Guan Yueyao had given him before they parted.