Chapter 5 – Exile, Ziling Meets Her Husband for the First Time

Captain Li led his men toward the back courtyard. He had served as a captain for years, and this was far from his first time conducting a confiscation. Usually, when they raided a household, the guards would seize the chance to line their own pockets—after all, only wealthy families were subject to such purges. Today, they had intended to do the same, but after searching every room, large and small, they found nothing at all.

Captain Li panicked. How was he to report this to his superiors?

He led his men back to the main hall. “Old Madam, we are only carrying out orders. Hand over what you’ve hidden, or else it won’t be good for your family—or for us.”

The old madam turned, her eyes sharp. “From the moment the edict was read, we have been confined here in this hall. None of us have left. How could we hide anything? We are either too old or too young—where could we possibly conceal it?”

A guard muttered, “That’s not true. The new bride went to the back courtyard to relieve herself.”

Captain Li’s gaze shifted to Ziling. Ziling stepped forward and said firmly, “I only went to use the latrine, and I returned right away. How could I possibly hide anything on me?” As she spoke, she extended her arms slightly, as though inviting them to search her.

Captain Li knew well enough that in a mansion this large, treasures could hardly be hidden on a young woman’s person. He barked orders to his men: the hour was growing late—have them change clothes at once and escort them to the city gates to hand over to the officials in charge of exile.

The guards, frustrated at gaining no spoils, cursed under their breath. They flung a pile of coarse garments marked with the character for “prisoner” onto the floor and snapped, “Quickly, hurry up! Don’t dawdle!”

The old madam changed into her prison garb. Lifting her eyes, she gazed around the courtyard one last time, grief etched deep in her face. “The late general sired two sons. The elder died young, guarding the western frontier before he had even taken a wife. The younger is my husband, the present general. Now he is away at war, his fate unknown. My son, too, has vanished without a trace. And now we are framed and ruined… Heaven, where is justice?”

Each word was drenched in blood and tears, the voice of an old woman’s helpless wail.

The only servant accompanying the family into exile was the old nurse who had attended the madam since her maiden days, never marrying, and choosing instead to remain by her mistress’s side through hardship.

The other servants were either dismissed or sold off.

Once the family had changed clothes, they were shoved out onto the street. On either side of the road, crowds had gathered. Some, misled, believed the rumors that the General’s Manor had colluded with traitors. As the family passed, they hurled curses, rotten vegetables, and eggs.

Others, however, whispered that the family must have been wronged. The Generals’ household had been loyal for generations—they would never commit treason. These onlookers sighed in secret sorrow.

Eleven-year-old Gong Hao walked with his head lowered, his face sullen. Now and then, he would lift his chin stubbornly to glare at the soldiers shoving his mother and sister.

But seven-year-old Gong Ying was far worse off. The little girl, cherished since birth by her parents and brothers, had known only warmth and love. In her heart, everything had always been bright and beautiful. To her, her father was the hero praised by all. Faced with this sudden calamity, she could only stumble forward blankly, not even remembering to cry. Ziling clasped the child’s small hand, her heart aching.

From afar, the crowd thickened near the city gate. A prisoner cart stood there, carrying a man slumped inside, covered in blood, his head drooping lifelessly.

Gong Hao spotted him and cried out in excitement, “Mother—it’s Big Brother! It’s Big Brother!”

The old madam also saw the figure in the cart. Her knees nearly buckled beneath her, and tears streamed down her face. “My son… my son! Who has beaten you so?”

Ziling, who had been married since her arrival in this world, had never yet laid eyes on her husband. Now, finally, she was about to meet him—and from the looks of it, his condition was dire. Don’t tell me I’ve just married, only for my husband to be crippled on the very first day!

At the sound of his family’s voices, the man in the cart lifted his head. This was none other than her newlywed husband—Gong Mohan. Seeing his mother, brother, and sister, he clutched at the bars of the cart with desperate strength. The effort was too much; his chest heaved, and a mouthful of blood spilled out.

Exiles could not remain in prisoner carts. The guards dragged him out, but Gong Mo Han was too badly injured to stand. The moment they let go, he collapsed onto the ground.

“Big Brother!” “Elder Brother!” “My son!”