Chapter 8 – The Awkward Gong Hao

There were more than a hundred people in this exile group. Since the journey had only just begun, most still had the spirit to endure.

Five officers were assigned to escort them. The leader was a scar-faced man of about thirty-five named Zhang Meng. He looked fierce and intimidating, known as an experienced constable who never cut corners on duty. The other four were his subordinates—men who had taken this job mostly because they came from poor families and hoped to earn a little extra money during the hard journey.

The line of prisoners in tattered uniforms slowly began to move forward. Gong Mohan was gravely injured and unable to walk. Without hesitation, his eleven-year-old brother, Gong Hao, carried him on his back. The boy was small, barely one and a half meters tall, still tender in age, and his body was already straining under the weight. His steps were bent and heavy, but he gritted his teeth and pressed on.

Ziling held little Gong Ying’s hand tightly, her gaze fixed on Gong Hao and Gong Mohan. Inwardly, she thought: This won’t do. If things go on like this, Gong Hao will collapse before they even reach the place of exile. Then both brothers will be finished.

After two more hours of walking, the officers finally allowed them to rest and eat. Most of those exiled were people of wealth or status—none had ever endured such a long march. The moment they were told to rest, many dropped to the ground like stones and had no intention of moving again.

Ziling scanned the surroundings and spotted a few big trees not far away, with some boulders beneath them. She quickly tugged Gong Ying along and said to Gong Hao, “Over there—some rocks. Let’s get your brother seated there so he can be more comfortable.”

When others saw the shaded rocks, they wanted to come over as well, but Ziling glared and snapped, “We claimed these first. Find your own if you want to sit.”

With her help, Gong Hao set his brother down on the stone. Ziling then pulled out dry rations and water from her bundle, first offering them to her mother-in-law, then to Gong Hao and Gong Ying. Ying, though young and pampered since birth, was surprisingly resilient and unspoiled. Understanding their situation, she immediately accepted the food and began eating without complaint.

But Gong Hao, exhausted and panting, stubbornly refused to take the rations from her hand. Gong Mohan didn’t even give her a single glance.

Ziling, coming from modern times, had no patience for their pampered attitudes. Let’s see how long you can last hungry, she thought, and without another word, began eating her own portion.

After finishing, she turned to her mother-in-law. “Mother, Mohan can’t walk, and Hao’er won’t last long carrying him. We need to think of another way—something to keep Hao’er from breaking down.”

At these words, Gong Hao’s back stiffened. Could it be this woman actually cares? He had only carried his brother for two hours, yet he was nearly at his limit. He pricked up his ears to hear what she might suggest.

Her mother-in-law sighed. “We’re prisoners now. What way is there? The officers won’t allow convicts to use a carriage. And besides, there are so many of us in exile—we all face the same fate.”

Ziling looked toward the guards. The five men watched carefully, three keeping an eye on the prisoners from front and rear. They had two carts—one loaded with supplies, the other used by the guards to rest in turns. If only Mohan could ride in that cart.

Determined to try, she walked up to Zhang Meng, took a deep breath, and said, “Sir, my husband is badly wounded and cannot walk. Please have mercy and allow him to ride in your cart, so the journey won’t be delayed.”

Zhang Meng frowned and sized her up. “That breaks the rules. Exiles don’t get to ride in carts.”

Ziling quickly replied, “Sir, my husband truly cannot endure. If this continues, he may not survive a few more days.” She then pulled a jade pendant from her sleeve and quietly offered it. “When we reach a marketplace, we’ll find another solution. For now, please help us.”

Zhang Meng stared at the pendant, hesitated a moment, then accepted it. “Only this once. Don’t expect it again.”

Ziling was overjoyed, thanking him repeatedly. She and Gong Hao together lifted Mohan onto the cart. As she helped him up, she discreetly pressed against his injured arm, trying to gauge his wounds and whether she could heal him later. His eyes turned icy, cutting toward her in silent warning. Ziling feigned calm and stepped back.

Gong Hao, however, felt a subtle shift in his thoughts about her. Ying noticed her second brother’s awkward expression, covered her mouth to hide a laugh, then whispered to Ziling: “Sister-in-law, look at second brother. I think he regrets not taking the food earlier.”

Ziling, intent on toughening up Gong Hao’s character, only said lightly, “Maybe your second brother isn’t hungry at all.”

Just then, a branch family of the Gongs shuffled over. With shameless faces, they said, “Why don’t you share some of your rations with us?”