At the Daoma Pass on the border of Youzhou, merchants were now allowed to pass freely.
A child named Zhao Yousong, his face beaming with joy, dashed excitedly toward the market. Over the past year, he had developed a habit of squatting with his friends on a low earthen wall, watching the Northern Liang cavalry ride in and out of the pass. Their strict village tutor, though young, was far more learned than the previous old Master Hong. The new tutor hailed from the Jiangnan region of the Central Plains and often spoke of its customs, encouraging his students to travel and study there. He believed that true scholars should “read ten thousand books and walk ten thousand miles” to make the most of their lives.
Today, however, the usually stern tutor was drunk—reeking of alcohol, swaying unsteadily, and nearly stumbling several times. Yet, in his drunken state, he joyfully announced, “Our Northern Liang has won! Not only have we crushed the Southern Dynasty of the Northern Mang barbarians, but two of their great chieftains have surrendered! Even the Northern Steppe won’t hold for long!”
Zhao Yousong sprinted ahead of his friends, reaching the low wall where a little girl was already waiting. He crouched beside her, whispering about the day’s events at the schoolhouse.
The girl came from a neighboring village, and their mothers were close friends. Many in the school teased them about being childhood sweethearts, which always made Zhao Yousong blush—though he never denied it.
He wasn’t stupid. He liked her—her plump, fair face, those big, watery eyes. How could he not? The boys who teased him the most were the same ones secretly smitten with her. But she only liked him!
After listening quietly, the girl lowered her head and timidly said, “My mother is getting married. A man just came to propose.”
Zhao Yousong was stunned. “Is it Battalion Chief Liu from your village?”
She nodded vigorously.
He sighed deeply, then comforted her in an oddly mature tone, “It’s fine. Battalion Chief Liu is a true hero—how else could he lead our Northern Liang scouts? He’ll treat your mother well.”
She tugged his sleeve and whispered, “People say your tutor likes your mother.”
Zhao Yousong was so shocked he fell off the wall. “What?!”
“My mother said so too,” she murmured, hurt.
Zhao Yousong groaned, “Our tutor is great, but I don’t want him as my stepfather!”
She frowned, pouting. “Why not? My mother thinks he’s wonderful—handsome, kind, and learned. She even urged your mother to accept him!”
He shook his head frantically. “No! My mother can’t marry him!”
Her eyes welled up. “Are you ashamed because she’s remarrying?!”
In truth, she feared he’d look down on her—her own mother had remarried.
Zhao Yousong waved his hands. “No! If my mother truly loved someone, I’d be happy for her. But I know she doesn’t like Tutor Zhang!”
He was lying.
He didn’t actually know how his mother felt. But in his heart, he wished that if she remarried, it would be to *that* man.
Still, if she really did love Tutor Zhang, he’d have to accept it.
Sigh.
The two children sat side by side on the wall, lost in thought, staring at the distant pass.
Suddenly, Zhao Yousong’s eyes lit up. He leaped off the wall, stumbled, but didn’t care, sprinting toward a figure approaching from the north.
“Uncle Xu!” he shouted.
The man—Xu Fengnian, recently returned from the Northern Mang—smiled as the boy reached him. “Yousong, why ‘Uncle’ instead of ‘Brother’ or ‘Young Master’ now?”
Zhao Yousong grinned mischievously. “My mother told me to. Ask her yourself!”
Xu Fengnian chuckled and went to buy meat buns.
As he did, Zhao Yousong noticed a little dark-skinned girl trailing behind Xu Fengnian. She glared at him and raised a tiny fist threateningly.
His childhood sweetheart caught up, panting. He took her book bag apologetically, then whispered something in her ear. She looked confused but eventually ran off.
The dark girl was Xu Nianliang—Xu Fengnian’s daughter, nicknamed “Little Sweet Potato.” Unless Xu Fengnian carried her for speed, she always kept a stubborn distance, refusing to get too close.
Xu Fengnian bought four steaming buns, handing one to Zhao Yousong. “Where’s your little friend?”
Zhao Yousong grinned. “Probably had something to do at home.”
Xu Fengnian smiled and turned to his daughter. Before he could warn her, she took a huge bite—and immediately yelped from the heat. Xu Fengnian winced but pretended not to see.
Only when he turned away did she fan her mouth furiously.
Zhao Yousong watched, amused. *Is she starving or just reckless?*
Xu Nianliang noticed his stare and raised her fist again.
Xu Fengnian patted her head. “Be polite.”
She huffed and devoured the bun in three bites.
*What a warrior!* Zhao Yousong thought, rolling his eyes.
Xu Fengnian handed her another bun and wiped grease from her clothes. Watching them, Zhao Yousong felt a pang of envy—and sadness. He turned away, wiping his face.
Xu Nianliang saw and rolled her eyes harder.
Xu Fengnian, without looking, chided gently, “Be kind, Little Sweet Potato.”
She huffed again.
Then Xu Fengnian saw *her*—Xu Qing, Zhao Yousong’s mother. She stood there, breathless, shy, hopeful.
Her clear eyes spoke volumes.
Zhao Yousong winked at his accomplice and broke the silence. “Uncle Xu, my mother just opened a fabric shop. Want to see?”
Xu Fengnian hesitated, glancing at his daughter.
But Xu Qing—once a skilled embroiderer for the imperial court—suddenly scooped up Xu Nianliang and looked at Xu Fengnian expectantly.
Surprised by the girl’s lack of resistance, Xu Fengnian nodded.
As Zhao Yousong and his friend led the way, Xu Qing asked softly, “What’s your name, little one?”
The dark girl burst into tears. “I’m Xu Nianliang!”
Xu Qing smiled. “You look like your father.”
She shook her head fiercely. “No! I only look like my mother!”
Xu Fengnian wondered why his daughter was so drawn to Xu Qing. Perhaps it was her innate gentleness, something the lonely child craved.
At that moment, Xu Fengnian’s eyes reddened. He turned away, exhaling softly.
The journey south had been rough.
When Xu Nianliang was in the mood to talk:
“Xu Fengnian! How many women do you have in Northern Liang?”
“I—”
“Hesitating means *many*! Wow, impressive, *Prince of Northern Liang*!”
When she was angry:
“Xu Fengnian!”
“Yes?”
“I’ll beat you into a pig’s head with my wooden sword!”
“I believe you.”
“You *don’t*!”
*Whack, whack, whack.*
He never dodged.
When she was slightly happier:
“Hey, is that Qingliang Mountain really twice as big as my home?”
“Yes, even bigger.”
“Liar!”
More wooden sword strikes—but fewer than when she was furious.
On rare good days, she’d ride on his shoulders, resting her chin on his head, sniffling quietly but never crying aloud.
Sometimes, she’d gaze northward, lost in thought. He’d stand or sit silently beside her, not daring to speak.
The only time she smiled was when they encountered six thousand Northern Liang cavalry charging toward the Northern Steppe.
The moment they saw the little girl on the young prince’s shoulders, the entire army dismounted and roared:
“**Northern Liang Right Cavalry—welcomes Her Highness home!**”
By imperial law, a prince’s daughter was only a *junzhu* ( Princess). But Northern Liang’s iron cavalry had never cared for the court’s opinions.
After that, Xu Nianliang spoke even less.
Now, inside Xu Qing’s bustling fabric shop, Xu Nianliang picked out cloth unapologetically.
“I’ll make *him* pay!” she declared, pointing at Xu Fengnian.
Xu Qing laughed. “This one’s a gift. Next time, you pay.”
The girl thought hard, then glanced at Xu Fengnian—and didn’t refuse.
As Xu Fengnian sat on the threshold, watching his daughter with warmth in his eyes, the women in the shop lingered, stealing glances.
Xu Nianliang, before touching the fabrics, carefully wiped her sleeves clean.
Xu Qing caught her eye and smiled.
And Xu Fengnian, leaning on the doorstep, gazed at his child with serene contentment.
Finally, after all the guests had left, Sweet Potato let out a sigh, spread her hands, and said to Xu Xiao with a helpless expression, “I didn’t like any of them.”
Xu Xiao gave an “Oh,” then walked out from behind the counter to the fabric shelves, picking and choosing on her own. Eventually, she picked up a piece of delicate floral fabric with soft colors, turned around, and smiled at the little girl. “Then I’ll just casually give you this piece of fabric, alright?”
Sweet Potato blushed slightly.
Xu Feng Nian stood up and said softly, “We have enough silver.”
Sweet Potato waved her hand grandly. “Fine, then!”
Xu Xiao glanced at the sky outside—it was dusk—and looked at Xu Feng Nian, who seemed ready to pay and leave. She spoke gently, “Why not stay for dinner?”
Xu Feng Nian shook his head. “No need.”
Sweet Potato suddenly asked, “Do you have fried cicadas there? The crispy kind that goes *crunch*?”
Xu Xiao shook her head.
The young scholar Zhao Yousong patted his forehead. *So she’s a martial heroine!*
Sweet Potato asked again, “Do you have rice? Big bowls of it?”
Xu Xiao nodded lightly.
Sweet Potato then patted her stomach. “Eat and drink our fill before hitting the road!”
After closing the shop, Zhao Yousong insisted on escorting the little girl home first, so Xu Xiao took Sweet Potato’s hand and led her back, leaving Xu Feng Nian to obediently stand on Xu Xiao’s other side.
Xu Xiao asked, “Did your father give you that wooden sword?”
Sweet Potato lightly patted the long, narrow wooden blade and snorted. “No, I made it myself!”
The child quickly added, “Made it for myself! Not for giving away!”
When they reached the small courtyard, Xu Xiao and the little girl busied themselves preparing dinner, likely because the latter had no intention of staying with her father.
Xu Feng Nian sat on a small stool in the yard, staring intently at the setting sun on the horizon, motionless.
Zhao Yousong soon ran back home and joined Xu Feng Nian in silent contemplation.
When they were called for dinner, Zhao Yousong noticed that the little dark-skinned girl seemed to have been crying, looking pitiful.
Once seated at the well-laden table, Zhao Yousong quickly observed how the girl wolfed down her food, chopsticks flying like a starving ghost reincarnated.
Xu Feng Nian remained silent, while Xu Xiao occasionally reminded the little girl to eat slower, not to rush.
By the time Sweet Potato was full, Xu Feng Nian had barely touched his food.
For some reason, the little girl seemed to suddenly relax, her energy visibly draining. Almost unwillingly, she slumped onto Xu Feng Nian’s back, closed her eyes, and fell asleep, emitting soft snores.
Xu Xiao immediately covered her mouth, not wanting to disturb the poor child with her tragic past.
Earlier, while preparing dinner together, though Xu Nianliang—Sweet Potato’s real name—had spoken little, the stories she shared about what she thought were amusing childhood memories only deepened Xu Xiao’s sorrow.
Though uneducated, Xu Xiao understood universal truths. Having endured hardship herself, she knew that once grown, men and women could no longer blame fate for their suffering. But how could a child so young speak of such things as if they were funny, even animatedly?
Watching the two figures—one large, one small—quietly leave the house, the usually gentle Xu Xiao felt an unprecedented anger toward the man. “Can’t you let the child sleep in a bed?!”
At that moment, the man abruptly stopped in his tracks.
Zhao Yousong stood frozen, frightened.
Finally, Xu Feng Nian turned back into the house and gently handed Sweet Potato to Xu Xiao.
She carried the child to her own room, tucked her in, then stood at the doorway and whispered, “You can sleep in Yousong’s room tonight.”
Xu Feng Nian shook his head. “No need. I’ll stay in the yard.”
She hesitated, then silently turned away and sat by the bed.
Xu Feng Nian remained in the courtyard. Zhao Yousong lowered his voice to chat with him for a while before excusing himself to work on his tutor’s homework. Xu Feng Nian said softly, “Study hard. Earn honors in the future. Don’t disappoint your mother.”
The boy nodded vigorously, then tiptoed away.
Xu Feng Nian said nothing.
He sat there until the sun vanished and the moon rose.
Memories of his own childhood surfaced—some blurred, others vivid.
After arriving at Qingliang Mountain in Northern Liang, especially the memories of his youth, became much clearer. But by then, his mother was already gone, leaving only Xu Xiao.
Xu Feng Nian remained motionless the entire time.
Only after becoming a father himself did he truly understand his own father’s sacrifices—no matter how much had been given, it never felt like enough. Only regret that it was too little.
*My Sweet Potato, your father has failed you, but he loves you dearly.*
Perhaps one day, when she grew up and met the man she loved, he—as her father—would reluctantly let her go, wishing her a lifetime of happiness.
Even after his death, when he could no longer care for her, he hoped she would remain happy.
At some point, Xu Xiao stepped out of the house and sat beside him.
Xu Feng Nian snapped out of his thoughts and hastily wiped his face.
Xu Xiao said gently, “She slept restlessly, waking up dazed several times before falling back asleep. Twice, she cried and asked where you were. I told her you were in the yard, and only then would she sleep again.”
Xu Feng Nian gave a quiet “Mm.”
Xu Xiao lowered her head. “Earlier… I’m sorry.”
Xu Feng Nian shook his head. “Don’t overthink it. I should be thanking you. Truly.”
His voice was hoarse. “I don’t know how to take care of her… I keep failing. Whenever she goes silent, I get scared…”
Xu Xiao leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands as she gazed toward the courtyard gate. “I went through the same. The more sensible the child, the more parents feel they’ve failed them, the more guilt they carry.”
Xu Feng Nian listened quietly.
Under the moonlight, she spoke at length until her eyelids grew heavy.
Xu Feng Nian turned his head and saw Sweet Potato standing at the threshold, watching them. Then she plopped down and waved at him.
Xu Xiao jolted awake, shook her head, and followed Xu Feng Nian’s gaze to the little girl.
She stood and walked over, asking softly, “Why aren’t you sleeping?”
The little girl stood up too, grinning brightly. “I’m all slept out!”
Xu Xiao smiled. “Then remember to come visit in the future.”
Sweet Potato stuck out her pinky. “Come on, pinky promise!”
Xu Xiao hooked her finger lightly with the child’s.
Xu Feng Nian crouched down with a smile, waiting for her to climb onto his back.
Once settled, Sweet Potato turned to Xu Xiao, raised her hand, and waved. “Pinky promise, remember!”
Xu Feng Nian reminded softly, “Hold on tight.”
Sweet Potato snorted.
He turned his head and smiled. “Let’s go.”
Xu Xiao stood at the door and nodded.
Their figures vanished in a flash.
After streaking southward like a comet for nearly a hundred miles, Xu Feng Nian sensed something amiss with Sweet Potato and halted. Worried, he asked, “What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?”
Sweet Potato struggled free from his warm back and stood on the ground, head bowed in silence.
Xu Feng Nian knelt on one knee before her, unsure what to do.
She suddenly covered her eyes, as if afraid to look at her father, and sobbed, “I’m sorry… I miss Mother… I’m sorry… I’m not mad at you… Well, maybe just a tiny bit! Sweet Potato just hates how useless she is… Father, there’s so much Mother asked me to do that I didn’t…”
At that moment, Xu Feng Nian pressed a hand over his mouth and slowly lowered his head.
This man, who had never retreated half a step outside the Imperial Astronomer’s Office in Tai’an City or beyond Northern Liang’s Jubei City, feared his child might no longer see him as the hero she once believed him to be.
Sweet Potato dropped her hands, forced back her tears, took a deep breath, and suddenly threw her arms around her father’s neck. “Father! Don’t you dare cry! A real man sheds blood, not tears!”
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