Although he badly wanted to wander around the black market and look at other goods, Zhang Ming did not dare stay any longer because of the children. Leaving the fence’s shop, he immediately led everyone toward the exit of the trading street. Along the way, Zhang Ming glanced at the stalls, hoping to spot something valuable, but no miracle happened. He saw no pills, and as for the rest of the items, he simply did not know their worth.

  Night had long fallen over the city. Outside the black market, complete darkness reigned, lanterns were not lit in this part of town, and only now and then light spilled from the windows of houses. Zhang Ming took the girls by the hands. Though Lu Piao looked slightly surprised, he asked no further questions.

  “I can see you liked it here,” Lu Piao said. “If you decide to come again, don’t forget, the black market doesn’t open every day and sometimes changes its location.”

  “Yeah, but that shop won’t move,” Zhang Ming replied. “I think we can always ask the fence for details.”

  “Right, elder brother. You think things through well.” He stopped and cast a quick glance at the children. “I’ll head to the inn then. Come later. We still need to…”

  “I’ll come,” Zhang Ming interrupted. “Thank you, Brother Lu. See you.”

  Watching Lu Piao leave, he led the girls toward the elderly master’s estate. On the way home, Zhang Ming felt his daughters’ unease growing. The closer they got, the tenser they became. At the gates, Mingzhu clutched tightly to the hem of her father’s robe and refused to let go, while Xue stubbornly furrowed her brows, as if preparing for a fight.

  Before they even knocked, the heavy door creaked and swung open wide, as though waiting for their return. Hei Xun, the maidservant dressed in men’s clothes, stood on the threshold with a very gloomy expression. From their first meeting, Zhang Ming had felt she disliked him, but that neither surprised nor bothered him.

  “As long as she takes care of the girls, it’s fine,” he thought, then asked aloud, “Has Master Ji Shen not gone to bed yet? May I speak with him?”

  “He is waiting for you,” the maid replied calmly.

  In the sitting room, the old master sat before a low table, reading an ancient scroll made of bamboo slips. Seeing the guest, he set it aside and gestured for Zhang Ming to sit. For a while they were silent as Hei Xun poured tea, while Xue and Mingzhu sat beside their father, nervously fidgeting with their fingers.

  “So, what did you wish to speak about?” Ji Shen smiled, lifting his cup and inhaling the rich aroma of tea.

  “Thank you,” Zhang Ming nodded automatically to the maid. “I have a very impolite request, and if not for circumstances, I wouldn’t dare ask.” He glanced at Mingzhu beside him. “May I stay here tonight? Just for one night.”

  “No need for politeness. Please, be our guest,” the old man agreed at once.

  “If you don’t mind, I’d sleep on the hay in the stable,” Zhang Ming continued. “I’m used to it. I don’t sleep well indoors.”

  “Treating a guest that way would shame me as a host,” the old man shook his head.

  “I understand. But I’m a simple man, so I’ll speak plainly. Ahem… I reek after the long road. I’m so tired today I don’t even have the strength to wash up. I just want to fall down and sleep. The hayloft will do perfectly.”

  “If that is the guest’s wish,” Ji Shen nodded with understanding. “Very well.”

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  “I knew he’d agree,” Zhang Ming thought, sipping tea from the delicate porcelain cup. “I’ve met this old man only three times in my life. Even if he’s kind to the girls, I’m still a stranger to him. I can’t ask for more. But I feel at ease knowing the girls are under his care.” He looked thoughtfully at them. “They have a life… one I can’t give them. Maybe without me, they really would be better off.”

  After a short conversation with the master of the house, Zhang Ming, at his daughters’ insistence, went to see their room, where all their treasures were kept: the purple plant, the picture book, Mingzhu’s set of beautiful river stones, and Xue’s four-page story. Since the children hadn’t really told him much, Zhang Ming didn’t pay special attention to the strange flower, simply praised their efforts and patted their heads. From his hunting basket, he took out the two stacks of books and, under his younger daughter’s delighted gaze, the set of throwing daggers.

  “Don’t play with them. They’re sharp. Ask Grandpa to teach you,” he warned strictly, then wished them good night and headed to the stable.

  No sooner had Zhang Ming lain down on the hay and closed his eyes than he heard the patter of small feet on the wooden floor of the stable. Smiling, he sat cross-legged and pulled out a simple candle from the basket, prepared in advance for such moments. The tiny flame lit up the children’s worried faces.

  “Can we stay with you?” Mingzhu asked, looking guiltily at the ground.

  “Come here. Sit beside me,” Zhang Ming called.

  Happily, they flopped onto the hay, breathing in the scent of dried grass. Sitting close to their father, the girls watched the dancing flame for a long time, remembering the old house, Baohe, and the small camp by the river. They wanted to remember only the good from that time and had long forgiven their parent for all past grievances.

  “Are we going home now?” Mingzhu asked.

  “Not yet. There are still important things to do here,” Zhang Ming said, ruffling her hair.

  “And then we’ll go?”

  “Maybe,” he answered evasively. “Don’t you like it here?”

  “I do, but it’s not our home. I miss the old one.”

  Zhang Ming was silent for a long time, thinking over the girl’s words. Then, as if remembering something, he reached into his robe and took out the old scroll. It had changed and no longer looked like ancient junk, but the paper was still darkened with age and stained with dirt.

  “Here. I want to give it to you.”

  “Okay,” Mingzhu immediately reached for it, but Xue stopped her with a glance.

  “Why are you giving it to us?” she asked cautiously. “It’s a very valuable magical scroll.”

  “There’s new knowledge in it now. I want you to study it. You just need to lie down and press it to your forehead like last time. You haven’t forgotten, have you?”

  “We remember,” Xue replied. “Do we need to learn it right now?”

  “No, of course not. Later,” he said calmly. “Keep it with you. Don’t show it to anyone. It’s a big secret, understand?”

  “Even Grandpa?” Mingzhu asked.

  “Yes, even him,” he nodded. “Here are a few more coins, just in case. I’d like to give you all of it, but… anyway, there are forty silver here.”

  Zhang Ming talked with his daughters until midnight before they finally lay down to sleep. He still hadn’t learned anything about their journey to Puyang, as he didn’t want to remind them of bad things. If everything went as he planned, one day they would surely talk about it all.

  Toward dawn, when the children were sleeping soundly, he quietly got up and headed for the estate gates. Though he tried his best, the hinges still creaked. Before he could open them fully, he heard footsteps behind him. Turning around, Zhang Ming saw his elder daughter Xue standing barefoot on the ground, straw sticking out of her hair.

  “You’re leaving again?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he nodded, his heart tightening with pain.

  “Is it bad with us?”

  “Not at all,” he shook his head. “You’re very good girls. It’s just that I have to. Really.”

  “We’ll go with you. We’re strong now.”

  “You can’t,” he said at once. “It’s too dangerous.”

  She was silent for a moment, staring at the ground.

  “Will you come back?”

  “I…” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “I really want to come back. Do you understand what that means?”

  “Mm…” Xue nodded.

  “Forgive me, little one. I need to return to hell and pull three children out of there. They’re waiting,” Zhang Ming sighed inwardly, knelt on one knee, and hugged his daughter tightly before stepping out of the estate gates.

  The girl remained in the courtyard, watching her father’s retreating back, and stayed there even after he disappeared from sight. The sun slowly rose over the city, and from a neighboring yard came the cry of a rooster. Xue sat down right on the ground but did not leave.

  From the stable burst a disheveled Mingzhu, several stalks of straw tangled in her hair, panic on her face as she searched for her father. Seeing her sister by the gates, she understood everything. Tears welled up in her throat, she wanted to run after him, try to catch him, and beg him not to leave without them. But looking at Xue, she changed her mind. She walked over and quietly sat beside her, resting her head on sister’s shoulder, always so reliable.