Chapter Seventeen: Xing'er

Wang Wu looked straight at Zhao Mu, his eyes already rimmed with red. Although Zhao Mu’s words had been somewhat harsh, Wang Wu had always been able to distinguish kindness from malice, and he knew that Zhao Mu meant well.

Thump!

Clutching his young daughter, Wang Wu knelt abruptly on the ground. Zhao Mu paused for a moment but made no move to help him up. He understood Wang Wu’s intent.

"Young Master, for your immense grace and kindness today, I, Wang Wu, shall surely repay you with my life!"

Wang Wu kowtowed solemnly, his expression grave. "I implore you, Young Master, to leave me your name. In this life, whether it be a mountain of blades or a sea of flames, I shall never fail you!"

Zhao Mu smiled faintly, then stepped forward to help Wang Wu to his feet.

"Brother Wang, you are too formal." Zhao Mu grasped Wang Wu’s hand and said, "My name is Zhao Mu. You may simply call me by my name from now on. As for gratitude, it is I who owe you. Had it not been for you today, both Lady Huang Wan and I would have fallen into the hands of those bandits."

Wang Wu shook his head. "When I arrived, I saw two bandit corpses on the ground. Even if I hadn't come, you surely would have found another way to escape the tiger's den, Young Master."

Zhao Mu chuckled. "I did have a plan, but it would have been difficult to escape unscathed, let alone emerge as unharmed as I am now. Therefore, your kindness is the greater one."

Wang Wu wanted to say more, but Zhao Mu waved his hand. "Enough. Let us not argue over who helped whom more. The day is late, and even if there is smoke from the fire, others may not see it. I shall go prepare some fish soup."

Although he had only caught two large fish earlier, there were several smaller ones left, which were perfect for making soup. Especially for a family like Wang Wu’s, who had not had a full meal in so long, it was not suitable to eat too much solid food at once. It was best to start with liquid nourishment until their stomachs could adjust.

Watching Zhao Mu’s back and the bowl of fish soup on the table, Wang Wu clenched his fists, as if having made a firm resolution.

Just then, Huang Wan returned with Wang Wu’s wife and son.

"Master, this young lady called us over and said that if we didn't come, she wouldn't let Xing'er have any fish soup." Wang Wu’s wife looked at him, feeling somewhat uneasy and nervous.

She had been married to Wang Wu for many years and knew his temperament well. In truth, she was much like him. Unless they were truly at death’s door, she would never wish to trouble others. When Wang Wu had discussed bringing only their young daughter to eat, she had been in complete agreement.

Wang Wu was stunned for a moment, then nodded. "Young Master Zhao and Lady Huang are kind-hearted; we must not let them down." Having heard Zhao Mu introduce himself and address the young woman as Lady Huang, he now knew their surnames.

Wang Wu’s wife was bewildered, not expecting her husband to agree so readily. She did not overthink it, however; even if she and Wang Wu went without, their son had to have something to eat. They could not simply save their daughter while letting their son starve.

Inside the kitchen, as Zhao Mu used a smoldering piece of firewood to ignite a bundle of dry grass, he overheard the conversation and couldn't help but smile. He hadn't expected Huang Wan to use the same tactic on Wang Wu’s wife that he had used on Wang Wu. Yet, it was the most effective method, striking directly at the soft spots of both husband and wife.

He could see that they both possessed a sense of integrity. They would rather suffer themselves than impose upon others. Such a character might be noble in peaceful times, but in these chaotic days, it was a path to ruin. However, since this was their nature, Zhao Mu had no desire to interfere or change them.

Looking at the basin of fish soup, the Wang family could not help but lick their lips. Yet, not one of them reached for a bite, standing by and waiting silently.

Before long, Zhao Mu emerged from the kitchen. "Brother Wang, Sister-in-law, don't just stand there. Quickly, give the fish soup to the children." Not knowing her name, he addressed her according to her husband's rank.

At these words, Wang Hu clearly looked tempted. He had lost track of how many days he had gone hungry. At first, he had been able to eat tree bark, grass roots, and even grass seeds. But the seeds caused severe indigestion, and eventually, even the roots ran out. Most of the time, he could only drink water to dull the hunger. Even when there was a morsel of food, he always saved it for his younger sister. He felt no resentment; his parents ate even less than he did, and like them, he doted on his sister. Whenever he saw her crying from hunger, he felt he would gladly carve a piece of his own flesh to feed her, though he lacked even a kitchen knife to do so.

Seeing them remain motionless, Zhao Mu frowned slightly. "Brother Wang, do you truly force me to repeat those harsh words before you will eat?" He turned a stern face toward the boy. "Hu-zi, is it? You drink this bowl of soup first! If it's not enough, there is more in the pot!"

Wang Hu instinctively glanced at his father. Wang Wu closed his eyes and sighed. "Eat."

Wang Hu hurried to the table, staring at the fragrant soup. He had tasted a bit when Zhao Mu first provided the small fish, and even without seasoning, it had been delicious. Yet, with the bowl before him, he turned to his father and said, "Father, let Sister have some first."

"Good!" Wang Wu nodded with a hint of relief, then leaned down to wake his young daughter. She had suffered greatly along the journey and her health was failing; she spent most of her time drifting in and out of consciousness.

"Xing'er, Xing'er..."

After several calls, Wang Xing'er opened her eyes, dazed. "Father, is there something to eat today?" she asked weakly.

At the sound of her voice, tears the size of beans rolled down Wang Wu’s cheeks.

"Don't cry, Father, don't cry. I’m not hungry anymore..." Wang Xing'er reached out with trembling hands to wipe his tears.

"Right, Father won't cry!" Wang Wu nodded hurriedly, clutching her small hand. Wang Xing'er pulled at him, offering a naive, frail smile.

"Xing'er is a good girl. We have fish soup today. Drink some, and you will be better before long." Wang Wu smiled at his daughter, while his wife found a small bowl, ladled some soup from the larger one, and brought it to their daughter's lips.