《安平追想曲：金小姐的異族戀情》（Romance of An-ping）

〈Romance of An-ping: Miss Jin’s Interethnic Love Story〉
(An-ping Requiem)
Table of Contents
1. Creative Concept .................................................................. 2
2. Story Synopsis ...................................................................... 3
3. Character List ....................................................................... 4
4. Story Outline ....................................................................... 10
5. Film Novel ........................................................................... 15
Chapter 1: Junsen Arrives at Tayouan Harbor ..................... p.15
Chapter 2: An Ox Cart Enters Chihkan Village ................... p.20
Chapter 3: Chihkan Women Clean the Village ..................... p.27
Chapter 4: Courtship at the Firefly Festival ...................... p.33
Chapter 5: Sayun Accepts Junsen’s Confession ................. p.40
Chapter 6: Sayun Nurses Junsen Back to Health ............... p.46
Chapter 7: The Wedding of Junsen and Sayun ................... p.52
Chapter 8: Junsen Conducts Traveling Medical Care ........ p.58
Chapter 9: Villages Form an Anti-Tax Alliance .................. p.64
Chapter 10: Junsen Is Placed under House Arrest in Madou ... p.70
Chapter 11: Regional Bishop Mediates the Conflict ............ p.77
Chapter 12: The Mother-in-law Worries about Her Son-in-law ... p.84
Chapter 13: Dutch Troops Attack the Villages ..................... p.91
Chapter 14: Junsen Enters Fort Zeelandia to Meet the Governor ... p.103
Chapter 15: Rescuing Four Female Chieftains from Danger .... p.107
Chapter 16: Junsen Returns to Chihkan in Triumph ............ p.116
Chapter 17: Junsen Returns to Amsterdam ....................... p.123
Chapter 18: Viana Discovers Junsen’s Secret ..................... p.128
Chapter 19: Devoted Sayun Gives Birth to a Daughter ........ p.133
Chapter 20: Sayun Opens a Medical Clinic at Tayouan Harbor ... p.138
Chapter 21: The Graceful and Captivating Blonde Woman ..... p.144
Chapter 22: The Unspoken Understanding between Hsiuya and Williams ... p.151
Chapter 23: Kali Arranges a Matchmaking for Hsiuya .......... p.157
Chapter 24: Conflict between Kali and His Daughter .......... p.164
Chapter 25: Sayun Supports Her Daughter’s Pursuit of Happiness ... p.171
Chapter 26: Hsiuya Leaves Tayouan Harbor with Williams ..... p.176
Chapter 27: Sayun Devotes Herself to Treating Smallpox ..... p.183
Chapter 28: Sayun Contracts Acute Pneumonia ................. p.190
Chapter 29: Junsen and Hsiuya Set Sail Back to the Far East ... p.196
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1. Creative Concept
This full-length novel is inspired by An-ping Requiem, a Taiwanese song composed in 1951 by renowned lyricist Chen Daru and composer Hsu Shih. The story is set in Anping, Tainan, between 1625 and 1650, and recounts a historical romance between Junsen (Johson), a Dutch Christian Dominican physician, and Princess Sayun of the Siraya Chihkan tribe.
As a historical love story, the author conducted extensive research prior to writing, consulting published historical materials such as The Batavia Castle Diaries and Pearls and Roses—The Authorized Biography of Miss Jin of Anping. These sources were carefully整理 and distilled to reconstruct cultural settings as faithfully as possible.
The novel centers on interethnic marriage and European cultural elements, and, given its international subject matter, is expected to receive strong audience response upon publication. The screenplay adaptation has already attracted keen interest and cooperation proposals from several film and television production companies, with strong prospects for a future cinematic release.
The novel is written in screenplay-style scenes, comprising approximately 150 scenes, which would translate into a feature film of roughly 220 minutes. With its solid narrative and emotionally compelling content, the production—if greenlit—would consider location shooting in the United Kingdom and the Netherlands. Given that the story is set four centuries ago, all sets, costumes, and props require rigorous historical verification, design, and fabrication. To ensure visual authenticity and refinement, the production budget would be relatively high. Therefore, international co-production with European and global film distributors is being considered, with overseas-language versions planned for international distribution.
The author is a graduate of the Graduate Institute of Taiwanese Literature, National Taipei University of Education, specializing in Taiwanese history and literature. In addition to teaching, the author is devoted to writing poetry, fiction, and drama. It is the author’s aspiration to create high-quality cinematic novels that may eventually be adapted for the screen, allowing Taiwanese audiences—beyond Korean dramas and mainland Chinese historical epics—to appreciate stories that portray the unique landscapes, history, and cultural beauty of Taiwan.
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2. Story Synopsis
Young physician Junsen (Jansen) arrives by ship at Tayouan Harbor (modern-day Anping) in Formosa. Struck by the bustling port and prosperity, he becomes deeply curious about the land. Junsen encounters Kali, who is suffering from malaria, and gives him medicine. In gratitude, Kali takes Junsen back to Chihkan Village and introduces him to the chieftain Dabangya.
Junsen treats the villagers’ illnesses and teaches methods of environmental sanitation to eliminate disease vectors. He earns the villagers’ admiration, as well as the affection of both the female hunter Lalu and Princess Sayun. Sayun, who is knowledgeable in traditional Chinese medicine, becomes Junsen’s capable assistant. Through their daily collaboration, the two gradually fall in love.
Kali, who harbors secret feelings for Sayun, realizes that her heart belongs to Junsen. During the Firefly Festival—the tribe’s equivalent of Valentine’s Day—Kali confesses his love, but Sayun gently rejects him. Fearing that Sayun may leave Chihkan with Junsen, and discovering that his sister Lalu also loves Junsen, Kali persuades his father Daliguan to pressure Chieftain Dabangya. Dabangya forbids Sayun from seeing Junsen. Nevertheless, with the help of her younger brother Dalai, Sayun continues the relationship in secret.
Unaware that he himself has contracted malaria, Junsen falls ill with chills. Sayun loosens her clothing to warm him, and the two lie naked in each other’s arms. They are discovered by Lalu, who has followed them. Furious, Kali demands that Junsen choose between leaving Chihkan or marrying into Dabangya’s family to preserve Sayun’s honor. Moved by Sayun’s devotion, Junsen agrees to marry her. Kali realizes too late that his schemes have backfired.
After their marriage, Junsen and Sayun travel together to neighboring villages providing medical care. However, the Dutch colonial authorities impose unilateral tax increases, provoking strong resentment among the villagers. A tax official is taken hostage, and Junsen and Sayun are mistakenly detained in Madou Village. Upon learning of this, Dabangya rescues them.
Dutch Governor Peter, wary of escalation, adopts a strategy proposed by his advisor Bakker: he pretends to reduce taxes to secure the hostages’ release, then later sends troops to punish the villages, arresting the chieftains. Missionary Matthews and Junsen work together to rescue them. Junsen agrees to treat Peter’s illness in exchange for their freedom. News spreads, and Junsen becomes revered by the indigenous communities.
Junsen later receives a letter from home demanding his return to the Netherlands. At the harbor, a pregnant Sayun bids him a tearful farewell. Junsen leaves her a token of remembrance. Sayun continues his medical mission and waits at the harbor daily, unaware that Junsen is forced by his family to remarry upon returning home. Her solitary figure at the harbor moves passing ships to sound their horns in sympathy.
More than a decade later, Sayun’s daughter Hsiuya, of mixed heritage and golden hair, grows into a striking young woman, attracting admiration from both foreign merchants and local youths. Her godfather Kali, determined to prevent her from repeating her mother’s fate, opposes her relationship with the young British merchant Williams. Hsiuya’s uncle Dalai sympathizes with her and persuades Sayun to let her go to England with Williams.
In England, Williams recognizes Junsen from a photograph of Hsiuya’s necklace and brings her to meet her biological father. Learning of Sayun’s life, Junsen is overwhelmed with remorse. He returns to Tayouan with his daughter and son-in-law, only to find that Sayun, exhausted from combating a smallpox epidemic, has passed away. At her grave, Junsen weeps openly. To fulfill Sayun’s wish, he resolves to remain and continue practicing medicine for the people.
(3) Character List
No. Name Role in the Drama Appearance & Costume Personality & Mindset
1 俊生 Jansen Male protagonist 24. A young doctor from the Dutch Christian Church. Handsome features, tall and slender, fair-skinned; wears plain long robes, elegant and refined. A passionate young physician devoted to healing and serving humanity. Indifferent to food, clothing, and personal comforts. Admired by Princess Shayun and Lalu.
2 莎韻 Shayun Female protagonist 18. Princess of the Siraya Chihkan tribe; daughter and heir of Chief Tabanya. Studied under Han physicians; later becomes Jansen’s capable assistant. Delicate, graceful features; wears Siraya princess attire. Gentle yet independent, with ideals of her own. Uninterested in needlework or cooking; fascinated by medicine. Willing to give selflessly for love.
3 卡力 Kali Supporting male 22. Son of Elder Daliguan of the Chihkan tribe. Loves Princess Shayun but is rejected. After Jansen returns to Holland, he devotes himself to caring for Shayun and her mother. Thick brows, large eyes, full lips; burly build. Clear-cut in love and hate; deeply devoted. Chooses lifelong bachelorhood. Though unloved by Shayun, he faithfully cares for her family—a man of loyalty and integrity.
4 秀雅 Xiuyah Supporting female 20. Daughter of Shayun and Jansen. Long golden hair; striking features as she grows up; graceful figure. Insists on being with Williams despite objections from her godfather Kali. Independent, daring in love and hate. Actively pursues love and refuses to submit to elders’ arrangements.
5 達邦雅 Tabanya Female chief of Chihkan 40. Shayun’s biological mother. Wrinkled, freckled; habit of chewing betel nut and smoking a water pipe; wears chieftain attire and headdress. Tender and loving to her children; decisive and efficient in tribal affairs—a capable chief.
6 李清華 Li Qinghua Tabanya’s uxorilocal husband 45. Han Chinese; Shayun’s biological father. Thin brows, long eyes, aquiline nose; medium build; wears long robe and jacket. Resourceful and adaptable. Publicly respects his chieftain wife; privately serves as her adviser.
7 阿里 Ali Chihkan youth 20. Thick brows, large eyes, full lips; honest-looking; medium build; wears Siraya attire. Simple, kind, and gentle; sincere to friends. Later becomes Shayun’s attendant.
8 達來 Dalai Shayun’s younger brother 12. Dark-skinned, thick brows, large eyes; short stature; wears Siraya children’s clothing. Considerate, introverted, and mature beyond his years. Sympathetic to Shayun and Jansen’s love; helps relay messages between them.
9 東樂 Dongle Madou tribe youth 22. Thick brows, large eyes; average features; upright build. Trades in deerskins and medicinal herbs. Familiar with Shayun; falls in love with Xiuyah at first sight. Smart and diligent; business-minded but lacking humor and romance. Xiuyah has no interest in him.
10 來旺 Laiwang Dongle’s father 45. Thick brows, large eyes; medium-broad build; well dressed, clearly a successful merchant. Indulgent and mild-tempered father who dotes on his son.
11 里娜 Lina Dongle’s mother 42. Thick brows, large eyes, big nose, wide mouth; lavishly dressed with gold and silver ornaments. Likes matchmaking and forging ties with nobles and merchants; often plots for her son.
12 安德魯 Andrew First mate of a Dutch merchant ship 35. Hawk eyes, aquiline nose; long face with beard; blond hair in a ponytail; tall and slim; sailor’s attire. Honest and trustworthy; close friend of Jansen; faithfully fulfills entrusted duties.
13 馬修斯 Matthews Dutch Dominican missionary 30. Long eyes, fine brows; short blond hair; calm, gentle appearance; tall and slim; dark clerical robe. Values trust and friendship; compassionate and just. Argues firmly against injustice.
14 威廉斯 Williams British merchant 26. Handsome features; long silver hair tied back; long tunic and trousers; aristocratic air. Cultured, witty, kind-hearted; sincere and gentlemanly.
15 彼得 Peter Head official of Fort Zeelandia 55. Heavyset with large ears; thick build; sparse gray hair; wears noble official uniform. Cunning and inscrutable; meticulous and hard to persuade—a formidable figure.
16 巴克爾 Bakker Strategic adviser of Fort Zeelandia 40. Thick brows, narrow eyes, aquiline nose; long face with beard; messy blond hair; tall and slim; Dutch military uniform. Steady and experienced; speaks slowly but to the point.
17 皮亞斯 Piers Tax officer of Fort Zeelandia 35. Plain features; sparse hair and brows; long face with blond goatee; medium-broad build; civil official attire. Crafty and calculating; adept at reading people; a sly old fox.
18 波士門 Bossman Clerk of Fort Zeelandia 30. Well-proportioned features; shoulder-length blond hair; tall and handsome; soldier’s uniform. Sincere, warm, and courteous; befriends locals. Later wins Lalu’s heart and marries her.
19 布靈奇 Blingchi Combat officer of Fort Zeelandia 35. Fierce brows and eyes; tall; Dutch military uniform. Brave and decisive in battle, but ruthless toward enemies.
20 甘治斯 Candidius Dominican bishop of Anping 50. Deep-set features; wrinkles and age spots; short graying hair; medium build; bishop’s robes. Reasonable and communicative; deeply concerned for believers’ welfare; self-sacrificing and revered.
21 普林尼 Plinius Priest of Tayouan Port 60. Wrinkled face; kind expression; red hair; wears priest’s robes. Steady and reliable; a trusted aide to Bishop Candidius.
22 喬治 George Chairman of the Tayouan foreign merchants’ guild 50. Silver hair; long brows; aquiline nose; tall and slender; well-tailored suit. Public-spirited; actively involved when foreign merchants’ interests are at stake.
23 路易士 Louis Chairman of the Provintia foreign merchants’ guild 55. Silver hair, slightly balding; short and stout; ruddy complexion; French merchant in formal suit with bow tie. Public-spirited; proactive in protecting foreign merchants’ interests.
24 普特曼斯 Hans Putmans Newly appointed head of Fort Zeelandia 45. Hawk eyes, aquiline nose, pointed chin; goatee; thick blond hair; tall and slim; official uniform. Forceful and authoritarian; stubborn and self-important; difficult to persuade.
25 拉露 Lalu Kali’s sister 18. Female hunter; distinct, beautiful features; athletic build; brown skin; wears deerskin hunting attire; enjoys cooking and sewing. Close as sisters with Shayun; both love Jansen. Later marries Bossman. Passionate and forthright in love; outwardly tomboyish, inwardly gentle and devoted to caring for loved ones.
26 大里觀 Daliguan Elder of the Chihkan tribe 50. Large nose; thick brows; wrinkled face; tall and thin; long robe. Worldly, wise, and highly respected; trusted by Tabanya.
27 大雅 Daya Chihkan tribe woman 24. Thick brows, large eyes, upturned nose; plump build; traditional Siraya women’s dress. Outgoing and talkative; close friends with Shayun and Lalu.
28 豆寧 Douning Chief of the Soulangh tribe 50. Thick brows, large eyes, big nose; wrinkles and age spots; burly; carries a horn pipe; embroidered chieftain attire with feather crown and glass beads. Strong-willed and decisive; the dominant leader among female chiefs.
29 伊美娜 Yimina Douning’s daughter 18. Princess of the Soulangh tribe; thick brows, large nose; average features; ponytail; medium build; princess attire. Inherits her mother’s fierceness; straightforward but impulsive.
30 馬卡霧 Makawu Soulangh Yellow-Headed warrior 40. Thick brows, large eyes, big nose; yellow headband; muscular; warrior attire. A fierce, brave general at Douning’s side; absolutely loyal.
31 烏拉 Ula Soulangh Yellow-Headed warrior 42. Long brows, narrow eyes; yellow headband; medium build; warrior attire. Calm and strategic; Douning’s tactician.
32 瑪雅 Maya Chief of the Madou tribe 40. Thick brows, large eyes, full lips; freckles and light wrinkles. Strategic, steady, gentle-tempered; steadfast in doing what is right.
33 伊麗莎 Eliza Chief of the Sinckan tribe 35. Beautiful features; fine brows, long eyes, oval face; mixed northern Han ancestry; chieftain attire with feather crown. Gentle, reasonable, and communicative; close to Tabanya.
34 俊 Jan Jansen’s father 65. Proper features; deeply wrinkled; sickly look; tall and thin; gentleman’s suit. A declining local aristocrat who retains noble bearing; hopes his son stays in the homeland.
35 海倫娜 Helena Jansen’s biological mother 50. Wrinkles and freckles; graceful features; full figure. Strong-willed; uses both persuasion and pressure to achieve her aims with her son.
36 薇安娜 Viana Jansen’s second wife 24. Dignified features; well-proportioned; aristocratic elegance; noblewoman’s attire. Gentle, refined, considerate; a supportive and understanding wife.
37 史蒂芬妮 Stefani Viana’s mother 50. Silver hair; wrinkles and freckles; stout middle-aged woman with aristocratic air. Widowed; worries about her daughter’s well-being and urges Jansen to treat her kindly.
38 班哲明 Benjamin Dominican physician 30. Upright, distinguished features; tall and slim; white doctor’s coat. Thoughtful and principled; devotes himself to the Church and the people with compassion.
39 瓊斯 Jones Strategic adviser of Fort Zeelandia 35. Long brows, hawk eyes, aquiline nose; shrewd look; medium build; officer’s uniform. Calm and analytical; skilled problem-solver; adviser to the governor.
40 阿爾法 Alfa Dutch officer of Fort Zeelandia 25. Silver hair; fine brows, long eyes; beard; medium build; officer’s uniform.

(4) Story Synopsis
The young physician Jansen is dispatched by the Dominican Order of the Christian Church to the Far East. Traveling by ship, he arrives at Tayouan Harbor, Formosa (present-day Anping Harbor). Struck by the bustling prosperity of the port, he is filled with curiosity about this land. While strolling through the streets, he encounters a Siraya youth named Kaleh, who is suffering from malaria and undergoing herbal treatment by a traditional Han physician, though with little improvement. Jansen takes quinine from his medical kit and administers it to Kaleh. By the next day, Kaleh’s condition has improved noticeably. Jansen gives him a bottle of quinine powder and instructs him to take it regularly.
After Jansen cures Kaleh of malaria, the two become close friends. Kaleh is the son of Dalikuan, an elder of Chihkan Village, and he brings Jansen back to the village. At the time, Chihkan and several nearby Siraya villages are plagued by malaria and “intermittent fever” (typhoid). With the support of Tapanya, the female chief of Chihkan Village, and Kaleh, Jansen not only treats the infectious diseases in the surrounding villages, but also teaches preventive measures such as using mosquito nets, drinking boiled water, and eliminating stagnant water around homes to eradicate disease vectors. These efforts greatly improve local sanitation.
Jansen’s benevolent deeds earn him a fine reputation and the affection of two women: Lalu, Kaleh’s sister and a female hunter, and Saiyun, the daughter of Chief Tapanya. Both fall in love with the kind-hearted, guileless Dutch doctor. Lalu sews deerskin clothes for Jansen to win his favor, while Saiyun—having previously studied traditional Chinese medicine—becomes Jansen’s capable assistant. Working closely together, their feelings gradually deepen.
Saiyun and Kaleh grew up together as childhood sweethearts. Kaleh has long hoped to marry into the chieftain’s family and become Saiyun’s husband, and the villagers regard them as a perfect match. However, after Jansen’s arrival, Kaleh senses Saiyun drifting away. In preparation for the upcoming Firefly Festival (the Siraya lovers’ festival), Kaleh goes to cut bamboo and encounters Daya, who perceives his worries and encourages him to confess his feelings. During the festival, Kaleh presents Saiyun with a bamboo tube filled with fireflies, but Saiyun opens the lid and gently but clearly rejects him. Heartbroken, Kaleh drowns his sorrow in drink. Ali, who also fails in confessing his love to Lalu, joins Kaleh in mutual consolation.
Kaleh later realizes that his sister Lalu also loves Jansen. For Lalu’s happiness—and for his own feelings toward Saiyun—Kaleh resolves to force Jansen to leave Chihkan Village. He argues to his father Dalikuan that since Saiyun is to inherit the chieftainship, she cannot marry an outsider unless Jansen agrees to marry into the family. Dalikuan understands Kaleh’s private motives but nonetheless convenes the elders, urging Chief Tapanya to uphold ancestral rules and forbid Saiyun from continuing her relationship with Jansen.
Tapanya states that she must first hear Saiyun’s own wishes. When asked, Saiyun declares that if Jansen were to confess his love, she would abandon everything to follow him. Shocked, Tapanya places Saiyun under house arrest and forbids her from working at the Han medical clinic. Li Qinghua, Tapanya’s husband, also advises restraint to quell village gossip. However, Saiyun’s younger brother Talai, sympathetic to her plight, secretly helps the lovers exchange messages. Though aware, Tapanya tacitly allows their secret meetings.
The friendship between Jansen and Kaleh fractures due to Kaleh’s resentment. Jansen senses the hostility and feels both helpless and regretful. He knows he loves the gentle Saiyun, yet foresees a difficult fate ahead. Meanwhile, the forthright and assertive Lalu repeatedly expresses her affection for Jansen. Unwilling to hurt her feelings, Jansen’s ambiguity leads Lalu to believe she still has hope.
Before Jansen departs to practice medicine in Sinkang and Mattau villages, Talai brings Saiyun to see him and leaves them alone. That stormy night, Jansen suddenly falls gravely ill with chills. Saiyun finds quinine in his medical kit, nurses him with herbal medicine, and holds him through the night to keep him warm. At dawn, Talai returns, followed by Lalu, who witnesses the couple embracing naked. Devastated, Lalu flees in tears.
The incident causes an uproar in the village. Dalikuan and the elders demand that Jansen declare whether he will marry into the chieftain’s family. If not, he must leave Chihkan forever. To protect Saiyun’s honor, Jansen agrees. Kaleh and Lalu regret their actions, having inadvertently forced Jansen’s decision. Once Jansen recovers, a wedding is held under Tapanya and Li Qinghua’s supervision, and Jansen formally marries into the chieftain’s household.
Jansen and Saiyun set out together to practice medicine in other villages, with Ali driving the ox cart. Kaleh comes to see them off. Jansen’s compassion earns him widespread respect among the villagers.
Meanwhile, Peter, the governor of Fort Zeelandia, raises taxes due to rising deerskin prices in Europe. Under his orders, tax officer Piers demands one additional deerskin per household each month. This sparks outrage, prompting Donin, chief of Soulangh, to unite four northern villages in revolt. Dutch officials and missionaries are taken hostage. Jansen and Saiyun are confined in Mattau’s church.
Missionary Matthews reports the crisis to Bishop Candidius, who joins merchant leaders George and Louis in petitioning Peter—unsuccessfully. Tapanya travels to Mattau with Kaleh and Lalu, but agrees to let Jansen and Saiyun remain to serve the villagers.
Feigning concession, Peter later orders military retaliation. Villages are attacked, chiefs arrested, and warrior Makawu is killed defending Donin. Jansen and Saiyun treat the wounded. Matthews condemns Peter’s betrayal and, with Candidius, confronts him again.
Suffering from chronic rheumatism, Peter summons Jansen for treatment. Jansen agrees on condition that the chiefs be released afterward. Using traditional Chinese medicine, Jansen alleviates Peter’s illness. Peter honors his promise, releasing the chiefs and reducing grain taxes.
Soon after, Saiyun becomes pregnant. Jansen receives news of his father’s grave illness and must return to Holland. He leaves Saiyun with tokens of promise. Back home, he is compelled into marriage with Viana to fulfill his dying father’s wish. Afterward, Viana—understanding Jansen’s sorrow—encourages him to return to Formosa, but her mother intervenes and relocates the family to England.
Left behind, Saiyun opens a clinic combining Western and Chinese medicine. She gives birth to a daughter, Xiuyah, and waits daily at the harbor. Years later, Xiuyah meets Williams, an English merchant. They fall in love and sail to England, where Xiuyah reunites with her father Jansen.
A smallpox epidemic ravages the Siraya villages. Saiyun exhausts herself seeking a cure, eventually discovering both supportive therapy and variolation, saving many lives—including Ali’s—but succumbs herself to pneumonia and sepsis.
Jansen returns too late. Grieving, he fulfills Saiyun’s final wish by continuing her medical work, controlling the epidemic. Xiuyah follows in her parents’ footsteps. Jansen writes to Viana, asking her to join him, resolved to remain in Formosa permanently.
(The End)

Chapter One
Jansen Arrives at Tayouan Harbor
1
At the docks along the bay of Tayouan (Anping) Harbor, masts crowded the skyline as merchant vessels from many nations gathered. Foreign traders had established their trading posts here, and along the streets by the port stood rows of mercantile houses. Deerskins, velvet antler, camphor, tea, and sugar were the principal commodities traded at this harbor. Western merchants brought medicinal herbs, spices, pearls, agate, bolts of cloth, and gold and silver coins, conducting trade with the local Siraya people and Han settlers.
A sailing ship slowly pulled in to shore. Two sailors threw the mooring ropes onto the dock, where two dockhands quickly caught them and secured them to stone bollards. Planks were set in place from the ship’s side, and several sailors carried bundles and crates of cargo down from the hold. Following them was a young man carrying a medical case—Jansen—a physician of the Dominican Order. After a long sea voyage, he set foot upon this unfamiliar land.
Behind him came two middle-aged men. One, with a thick beard, was Andrew, the ship’s first mate. The other, dressed in a long robe, was Father Matthews, a Dominican priest who had come to preach the Christian faith.
Andrew pointed toward the bustling harbor and said, “Jansen, this is Tayouan Harbor. I didn’t exaggerate, did I? You’re going to like this place.”
Jansen replied, “Indeed! It’s even livelier and more prosperous than I imagined.”
“You wouldn’t believe it,” Andrew said. “Just a year ago, this was nothing but reed-covered sandbanks and wetlands—a wilderness.”
“No wonder all the shops look so new,” Jansen remarked.
Father Matthews gestured toward the distance. “There really is a church here, just as the bishop said.”
“Yes,” Andrew said. “It was completed at the end of last year. Father, do you need me to accompany you to report in at the church?”
“No need,” Matthews replied. “I’ll go on my own. Do come visit me at the church when you have time.”
“We will,” Andrew said. Turning to Jansen, he added, “Would you like me to show you around?”
“No need, Andrew. I like exploring on my own.”
“Then meet us at the hostel across from the church this evening. Don’t wander too far.”
“Alright.”
Jansen waved goodbye to the two men and, in high spirits, headed toward the bustling streets.
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2
Jansen came upon a Chinese medical clinic with an arcade front. Inside, a physician in traditional Tang-style robes—Tang Yun—was pressing his fingers against a patient’s wrist. Jansen recognized the technique as pulse diagnosis, something he had seen Chinese physicians practice in Batavia on Java.
The patient, wrapped in a thick fur coat, trembled all over from chills. Curious, Jansen stepped inside and surveyed the rows of medicine cabinets lining the walls and the medicinal ingredients laid out on the long table. Aside from velvet antler, most looked similar to what he had seen before.
Tang Yun asked, “Young man, are you here to see a doctor?”
“No,” Jansen replied. “I’m from the Netherlands.”
Noticing the medical case in Jansen’s hand, Tang Yun asked, “Oh? Are you a physician?”
“Yes,” Jansen said. “Judging by the symptoms, this patient is suffering from malaria.”
Intrigued, Tang Yun withdrew his hand from the patient’s wrist. “Malaria? What kind of illness is that?”
“The patient experiences alternating chills and fever,” Jansen explained. “In Chinese medicine, this is called nüeji (ague). It is transmitted through mosquito bites and is highly contagious. It is quite common in the southern seas.”
“I see,” Tang Yun said. “I thought the patient merely suffered from a deficiency of qi and blood. I prescribed several tonic decoctions, but there was little improvement. In your opinion, how should this disease be treated?”
“I have quinine—an effective remedy for malaria—in my medical case,” Jansen said, opening it and taking out a glass bottle of powder. “One spoonful morning and evening, and the patient should recover in two to three weeks.”
Tang Yun accepted the bottle. “Then I shall follow your advice.”
Turning to his assistant, he instructed, “Ali, divide the powder into portions. Let Kali take one packet first, and bring the rest home for daily use.”
“Yes, Master Tang,” Ali replied.
Tang Yun asked, “How much should I pay you for this medicine, young man?”
“One silver coin,” Jansen said. “There’s no need to pay me now. Let’s wait to see the results. I’ll come by again another day.”
Tang Yun nodded with satisfaction. “Very reasonable.”
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3
Jansen wandered into a leather shop and found two men locked in a heated argument. The silver-haired foreign merchant appeared to be purchasing deerskins, while the gray-haired man was clearly the shop owner.
“Do you have no sense of honor?” the shopkeeper protested. “Champier, we agreed last time—five deerskins for one gold coin. Now you want seven skins for the same price. You take all the advantage! How can that be fair?”
“Deerskin prices fluctuate,” Champier replied coolly. “And supplies have been plentiful lately. If you won’t sell at this price, others will gladly do so. Think it over.”
“There’s nothing to think about,” the shopkeeper snapped. “You don’t keep your word, so I won’t sell to you. Please leave.”
“Then let’s meet halfway—six skins,” Champier said. “Otherwise, I’ll take my business elsewhere.”
Waving him off impatiently, the shopkeeper said, “No sale, no sale! You French merchants don’t honor agreements and love to slash prices. I’d rather sell to German traders. Now leave!”
“You’ll regret this, old man Baruna,” Champier muttered before storming out, nearly colliding with Jansen.
“Watch where you’re going, boy!” Champier snapped angrily.
Jansen merely smiled and said nothing, watching him walk away.
Baruna muttered under his breath, “Running into foreign devils first thing in the morning—today’s bound to be unlucky…”
Jansen removed his hat and greeted him with a smile. “Good day, sir.”
“Young man,” Baruna said, “care to buy a set of deerskin clothes? Soft, warm, and waterproof. Our tailoring is fine—excellent reputation.”
“I’m just looking,” Jansen replied.
“Take your time,” Baruna said. “If you find a hide you like, I’ll have the tailor custom-fit it for you.”
“Thank you,” Jansen said.
He examined the deerskins hanging on the earthen wall, occasionally reaching out to touch them.
“Our deerskins are excellent,” Baruna added. “Many foreign merchants come back for more after wearing them.”
“Thank you. I’ll let you know if I need any,” Jansen replied.
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4
After nightfall, the foreign merchants’ hostel was lit by several kerosene lamps, their faint orange glow casting wavering shadows on the walls. Wooden crates stacked in the corners bore yellowed shipping labels. The air was filled with the rich aroma of venison and the subtle sweetness of taro.
A breeze seeped through the half-open window, carrying the salty dampness of the harbor and the low, distant blasts of ship horns. Scattered tables of guests murmured softly, punctuated by bursts of laughter and the clear clink of wine cups.
Andrew and Jansen sat at a rough wooden table in the corner, two steaming dishes laid before them. Andrew raised his glass, took a sip, and glanced at Jansen.
“You like the food here?” he asked with a smile, a hint of testing in his tone.
“Quite good,” Jansen said, chewing thoughtfully before nodding. “Venison pairs surprisingly well with taro.”
“Good.” Andrew set down his glass, tapping the table lightly. “It’s not like Batavia—fewer choices here. No matter how you choose, it’s always the same few dishes.”
“When in Rome,” Jansen smiled. “I’m not picky.”
“You can probably finish exploring the market in half a day,” Andrew said, leaning back with his arms crossed. “You might consider buying two sets of deerskin clothes. The prices here are quite fair.”
Jansen tilted his head slightly, thinking. “For now, I still have enough clothes. I’ll buy them if needed.”
“By the way,” Andrew said, his tone turning serious as he leaned forward, fingers brushing the rough tabletop. “The company has sent new orders. After loading cargo, our fleet is diverting to Fusang. Captain Groot wants Dr. Mario from the infirmary to accompany us—the voyage will be longer, and Mario speaks the Fusang language.”
Andrew watched Jansen closely, as if expecting disappointment. But Jansen merely smiled and nodded. “That’s fine. I rather like this place.”
“Then you’ll stay on at the infirmary here,” Andrew said firmly. “The captain has already made arrangements. We’ll return in half a year.”
“You can report to the infirmary tomorrow.”
Jansen set down his fork, gratitude flickering in his eyes. “Alright.”
They finished their meal in silence. Andrew stood, patted Jansen on the shoulder, and said with a smile, “Get some rest. See you tomorrow.”
Jansen smiled back and watched him leave. As the kerosene lamp flickered, Andrew’s shadow stretched long across the floor, gradually disappearing into the darkness beyond the doorway.
________________________________________
5
The following morning was bright and calm. The deep blue sky looked freshly polished by the sea breeze. Along Anping Harbor’s market street, the air buzzed with voices as merchants and vendors shouted their wares. The salty scent of fish mixed with grassy notes, drifting through the breeze. Stalls displayed fresh oysters, dried fish, and bundles of medicinal herbs tied with hemp rope, their colors vivid as a painting.
Carrying his wicker medical case, Jansen walked steadily through the crowd, the sea wind lifting the edges of his sleeves.
In the distance, a young man in a coarse linen shirt—dark-skinned, with clear, earnest eyes—waved his arms and called out urgently, “Master Jansen! Master Jansen!”
Jansen paused, slightly startled, and looked over.
Ali ran up, panting, beads of sweat on his brow but joy shining on his face. “I’m Ali. We met yesterday at Master Tang’s clinic.”
Jansen’s expression softened as he nodded in recognition. “Ah, I remember. How is your friend?”
“After taking your medicine, Kali was able to get out of bed and walk this morning,” Ali said gratefully, his hands clasping and unclasping unconsciously in excitement.
“That’s good,” Jansen said warmly.
Ali stepped closer. “Kali asked me to invite you to our Chikan village. Many people there—and in nearby villages—are suffering from various illnesses. We need you to treat them.”
Jansen’s brows lifted, his expression turning serious. “If that’s the case, I’ll need to prepare more medicine. I should first return to the infirmary to restock.”
Ali grinned and shook a small cloth pouch at his waist, coins clinking inside. “Kali thought of that too. He told me to bring money and to accompany you to purchase supplies.”
Jansen nodded lightly. “Then let’s go. You lead the way.”
“I brought an ox cart,” Ali said, pointing to a simple wooden cart by the roadside. “It’ll be faster.”
“Sounds good,” Jansen laughed.
Ali took the medical case and carefully placed it at the back of the cart, then offered a sturdy hand to help Jansen aboard. “Careful—the step’s a bit slippery.”
Once seated, Ali climbed to the front and flicked the whip gently. “Hyah!”
The cart rumbled forward, wheels creaking over stone slabs, mingling with fishermen’s calls and the cries of seagulls.
“Ali,” Jansen asked, turning slightly, “do those patients all have similar symptoms?”
“Not exactly,” Ali replied quietly. “Some have fever and cough, others have festering skin, some feel dizzy and weak… but more people keep falling ill. The elders say a plague has come.”
Jansen’s gaze darkened, his fingers tapping his knee unconsciously. “This is serious. I must prepare proper remedies—and bring cleansing and disinfecting herbs as well.”
Ali nodded firmly, hope and trust shining in his eyes. “Doctor, we’re counting on you.”
The ox cart moved on, leaving the bustling market behind as it headed toward the infirmary.
________________________________________
6
Director Thomas had just finished a minor operation and stepped out of the surgery room. Jansen and Ali were already waiting in the reception room.
“You must be Jansen,” Thomas said.
“Yes,” Jansen replied.
“I’ve been expecting you,” Thomas said. “We urgently need manpower to conduct mobile medical care in the villages.”
“Ali has just told me,” Jansen said.
Ali nodded eagerly beside them.
“I’ll prepare the medicines for you to take along,” Thomas said. “If you run short, send someone back at any time.”
“Understood,” Jansen replied.
Seated once more on the ox cart, Jansen felt the gentle warm breeze against his face. Wildflowers of every color bloomed along the roadside. He looked about with keen interest, his spirits high.
“I hear winters here aren’t cold,” Jansen said. “Flowers still bloom, and the countryside stays green.”
“That’s right,” Ali replied. “It’s always been like this. Summers and autumns are hot, though, and diseases often spread between villages.”
“If those epidemics could gradually be eradicated,” Jansen said thoughtfully, “this place would be a paradise on earth—unlike the southern seas, where it’s hot every day and one sweats constantly.”
“Yet summer hasn’t even begun,” Ali said, “and the sickness is already spreading.”
Jansen nodded quietly. “Then it seems right that I stayed. The people here need me.”

Chapter Two: The Ox Cart Enters Chihkan Village
7
The ox cart rolled into Chihkan Village. The quiet settlement lay half-hidden beneath lush green foliage. Each household had a small courtyard enclosed by low shrubs; vines crawled over wooden fences, their emerald leaves still beaded with last night’s undried dew. Within the yards stood stilted houses supported by posts, their bamboo-and-mud walls weathered yet sturdy, their thatched roofs resembling enormous bird nests lying quietly upon the earth. People lived on the upper level, while livestock were kept below. The clucking of chickens and quacking of ducks rose and fell in succession, harmonizing with the distant murmur of flowing water.
Bluestone slabs paved the narrow lanes, their damp surfaces gleaming faintly and exuding a subtle, earthy scent. The wooden wheels of the ox cart creaked rhythmically as they rolled over the stones, stirring the still air around them.
“We’re almost there,” Ali said, lightly patting the ox’s back as he turned to Junsheng, his tone tinged with anticipation.
“This place is very peaceful,” Junsheng remarked, gazing around with evident appreciation for the rural scenery.
The ox cart stopped in front of a house. Two massive stone pillars stood at the entrance, their surfaces carved with bas-reliefs of a black bear—majestic and powerful, as if watching every visitor who approached.
Kali and his father, Daliguan, heard the sound of the cart and stepped out of the house, opening the wooden gate.
“Welcome to our humble home!” Daliguan strode forward with arms outstretched, laughing heartily as he gave Junsheng a solid, enthusiastic embrace.
Junsheng was momentarily taken aback, but quickly returned the gesture with a smile. “Thank you for your warm hospitality.”
Ali grinned as he made introductions. “Uncle, this is Doctor Junsheng. Kali, you’re looking much better.”
Though Kali’s face was still somewhat pale, his eyes shone with renewed vitality. He stepped forward and patted his chest. “It’s the medicine the doctor gave me—it brought me back to life. I can walk again now, and even help with some work.”
“Ha! That’s how it should be.” Daliguan laughed loudly, giving Kali’s shoulders a heavy pat as if testing his strength. “Doctor, please come inside. The food and wine are ready.”
Daliguan led Junsheng up a ladder made of thick logs. It creaked slightly but felt solid and secure. Kali and Ali followed behind, their steps light.
The interior of the house was simple yet warm. Decorations woven from feathers and animal hides hung on the walls. The floor was covered with dried straw, soft beneath the feet, rustling gently with each step. Above the hearth, strips of venison and pork were being smoked, their savory aroma filling the air.
Smiling, Kali gestured toward a young woman standing beside the hearth. “This is my younger sister, Lalu—the lady of the house.”
Lalu appeared to be seventeen or eighteen. Her skin was fair, her features delicate, and her long, glossy black hair fell to her shoulders. She nodded and smiled brightly. “Doctor, welcome to our home.”
“Thank you,” Junsheng replied with a smile, sensing her gentle and sincere warmth.
They all sat on the floor around a low table made of logs. Fat dripped from the venison and pork onto the embers, producing soft sizzling sounds. Lalu busied herself bringing over the smoked meat and trays of bamboo tubes filled with rice wine.
“It’s time to feast,” Daliguan announced, his voice brimming with pride.
Lalu set the bamboo tubes on the table and sat beside Junsheng. Daliguan and Kali exchanged a glance, then raised their bamboo cups in unison, their expressions solemn.
“Doctor, thank you for saving my son. This cup is offered in respect and gratitude,” Daliguan said, his voice deep and steady.
“Doctor, you’re my lifesaver!” Kali laughed heartily. “I’ll drink it all!” Tilting his head back, he drained the cup in one gulp, bursting into robust laughter.
Junsheng raised his cup, nodded slightly, and took a sip, feeling the strong yet mellow wine slide down his throat.
“Healing the sick is a doctor’s duty,” Junsheng said modestly. “The climate here is similar to Batavia—warm and humid, with many common epidemics. When we travel to practice medicine, we always carry medicines that might prove useful.”
“That’s exactly why I invited you here,” Daliguan said, his expression turning serious. “Our neighboring villages have long suffered from various illnesses. Though we have tribesmen skilled in Han medicine, many conditions show little improvement even with herbal treatments. My son’s fever illness was one of them. Without you, his life would have been in danger.”
Junsheng nodded calmly. “Different illnesses require different treatments. Western medicine and Han medicine each have their strengths. Han medicine is effective for rheumatism and muscular injuries, while Western medicine places greater emphasis on surgery and the prevention and treatment of epidemics.”
Daliguan paused, hope shining in his eyes. “That is precisely why I hope you will stay and treat our people.”
Without hesitation, Junsheng replied, “I would be honored to serve the sick.”
“Excellent!” Daliguan laughed in satisfaction. “I’ll speak with the chief. During the day, you can see patients at the Han medical hall. In the evenings, return here—Lalu will take care of your meals and daily needs.”
Smiling gently, Lalu added, “Doctor, I’ll also handle your laundry from now on.”
Junsheng laughed awkwardly. “That’s too much trouble for you.”
Kali laughed loudly. “Don’t be shy with my sister—just treat this place as your home!”
________________________________________
8
Accompanied by Kali and Lalu, Junsheng arrived at the Han medical hall near the village gathering place. The building was simple yet distinctive—a stilted structure with a thatched roof. Its walls, made of husks mixed with red earth, exuded the scent of soil. The foundation was low and slightly tilted from years of wind and rain. Straw lay scattered on the ground, soft and warm underfoot.
Several patients sat on a long bench at the entrance, murmuring among themselves, their faces a mixture of hope and unease. Some coughed with lowered heads; others groaned while clutching their ankles. Burly men and elderly women spoke in hushed, urgent tones.
Kali laughed cheerfully and patted Junsheng on the shoulder.
“Doctor, this is Sayun—the daughter of Chief Tapanya, and the future chief of our village.” He gestured proudly toward a woman standing just inside the doorway. “And this is Doctor Junsheng, from the West.”
Sayun stood in the shadows, her hair coiled into a bun, her eyes as clear as a winter stream. She smiled and nodded politely.
“Kali, thank you. My mentor went to Madou Village recently, and with so many patients these days, I’ve truly been overwhelmed,” she said softly, fatigue faintly visible in her brow.
“With the doctor here, you’ll just assist,” Kali reassured her.
Lalu linked arms with Sayun, her eyes shining. “Sister, my brother found an amazing doctor—he cured his fever illness!”
Junsheng smiled gently. “Sayun, are you an assistant in Han medicine?”
Kali explained, “She’s studied under a Han physician since childhood and can already handle common injuries and illnesses.”
“That’s wonderful,” Junsheng said appreciatively. “We can work together to care for the patients.”
Kali laughed heartily. “From now on, Sayun is your assistant. Doctor, please teach her more about Western medicine.”
Junsheng replied modestly, “And she can teach me Han medical techniques and prescriptions.”
“That’s settled,” Lalu said playfully. “Sayun, I’ll handle the doctor’s daily needs—no need for you to worry about those trivial matters.”
Junsheng removed his cloak and handed it to Sayun. “Shall we begin seeing patients? We shouldn’t keep them waiting.”
Sayun accepted the cloak, momentarily stunned. “So soon?” she murmured, then smiled. “I’ll tidy the table first.”
Kali chuckled. “The doctor is too kind-hearted to see patients suffer. I’ll bring in his medicine chests.”
He bent down and lifted two large boxes, sweat beading on his forehead. Opening one, Junsheng revealed an array of unfamiliar yet finely crafted instruments—stethoscope, rubber tubing, gloves, forceps, clamps, and surgical knives of various shapes.
Sayun stared wide-eyed, as if gazing at strange beasts she had never seen before.
“These are… for treating illness?” she asked tentatively.
“Yes.” Junsheng picked up the stethoscope and draped it around his neck with practiced ease. “Let me show you.”
Lalu pressed her lips together, laughing. “Doctor, you look quite funny like that!”
Sayun stifled a laugh, then grew serious. “Your dedication is admirable. I’ve never seen such tools before.”
“Once I arrange the instruments and medicines, we’ll begin,” Junsheng said energetically.
“There are empty cabinets in the dispensary—shall I help you place them?” Sayun offered eagerly.
“For the first time, I’d better do it myself,” Junsheng replied gently. “These medicines need to be sorted by their indications.”
“Then I’ll show you the way,” Sayun said with a smile.
Kali waved. “Doctor, Sayun, we’ll take our leave. If you need to restock supplies from Tayouan Harbor, just tell Ali.”
Sayun waved back. “All right—I won’t see you off.”
As Kali and Lalu walked away, a quiet settled over the area. Junsheng and Sayun disappeared behind the building, beginning their first day of collaboration.
________________________________________
9
After seeing the last patient, Junsheng removed the stethoscope from his neck and exhaled deeply. A thin sheen of sweat covered his brow. The room was dim, lit only by sunlight streaming through the window lattice, casting pale golden beams across the medicine bottles and instruments.
He went to a corner where a large wooden barrel stood, lifted the lid, and splashed cool water onto his face. Droplets slid down his cheekbones and dripped onto the wooden floor. He wiped his face and hands carefully with a coarse cloth.
At that moment, Sayun emerged from the dispensary, carrying several empty bamboo tubes, her expression grave.
“Doctor, we’re running low on medicines for malaria and dysentery,” she said, setting them down, her fingers whitening slightly.
Junsheng nodded calmly. “Don’t worry. Tomorrow I’ll write a prescription and have Ali fetch the supplies from the medical station at Tayouan Harbor.”
Sayun frowned slightly. “Without you, I really wouldn’t know how to handle these epidemic diseases.”
Junsheng smiled reassuringly and patted her shoulder. “Western and Han medicine each have their strengths. Western medicine focuses more on epidemics—but medicine alone treats only the symptoms. To eradicate these diseases, we must improve environmental hygiene.”
Her eyes lit up with curiosity as she stepped closer. “How should we do that?”
“For example,” Junsheng explained seriously, “don’t drink untreated well or river water—boil it thoroughly. Clear standing water from containers and ditches to prevent mosquitoes. Isolate infected family members and avoid sharing washing or hygiene tools.”
Sayun folded her arms thoughtfully and nodded. “It sounds complicated, but the ideas feel right.”
“That’s where you come in,” Junsheng said encouragingly. “You can help spread these ideas among your people.”
Sayun smiled brightly. “No problem. I’ll discuss it with my mother and gather the women to learn from you.”
Junsheng raised an eyebrow. “What about the men?”
She laughed softly. “They don’t usually handle such matters. We’re a matrilineal society—the women are the heads of households.”
Junsheng burst into laughter. “I see!”
Their eyes met briefly, warmly.
Later, Junsheng walked along a dew-soaked path beneath swaying shadows toward Kali’s home. Birds chirped crisply in the distance. As he approached the house, several brown hunting dogs burst from behind a bamboo fence, barking wildly.
The noise drew attention inside. Lalu, sewing a deerskin garment, paused and opened the window. Sunlight illuminated her delicate features as she saw Junsheng, joy instantly lighting her eyes.
“The doctor is back!” she exclaimed happily, hurrying down the wooden stairs.
“Good morning, Lalu,” Junsheng greeted warmly.
She blushed slightly as she took his cloak. “Come in—Father and Kali are waiting.”
Inside, firelight glowed against the walls. Kali tended venison over the hearth while Daliguan reclined, smoking a pipe.
“Lalu’s thinking about men now,” Kali teased.
“It’s time to find her a husband,” Daliguan mused. “That Junsheng fellow wouldn’t be bad.”
Kali chuckled. “But he might not accept marrying into our family.”
Daliguan frowned. “Our daughters have never married out.”
Just then, Lalu led Junsheng inside, her smile like spring itself.
“Father, the doctor’s back.”
She handed Junsheng a deerskin jacket she had sewn.
“It fits perfectly,” Junsheng said warmly.
“I measured by eye,” she said proudly.
“She’s also our only female hunter,” Kali laughed.
Junsheng stared in surprise. “Really?”
Lalu smiled shyly.
“Thank you, Lalu,” Junsheng said sincerely.
“If you like it, I’ll make you trousers too,” she replied.
Dinner was served amid laughter and warmth.
________________________________________
10
At Tapanya’s residence, the warmth of charcoal filled the room. Tapanya smiled at Sayun. “I hear Kali brought a foreign doctor to your clinic.”
Sayun nodded eagerly. “His name is Junsheng. He came from Batavia with the Dutch fleet.”
“He cured Kali?” Tapanya asked skeptically.
“Yes,” Sayun said. “He treated nearly thirty patients today.”
“Under thirty?” Li Qinghua asked doubtfully.
“He’s remarkable,” Sayun insisted, recounting Junsheng’s ideas on hygiene.
Tapanya laughed. “So he treats disease and catches demons too?”
Sayun laughed. “You’re always joking.”
In the end, Tapanya nodded. “Very well. Tomorrow I’ll gather the women to hear him.”
“Not just hear—do as he says,” Sayun reminded.
Tapanya laughed. “You’re getting strict.”
The family laughed together, the hearth glowing warmly as night settled in.

Chapter Three
The Women of Chihkan Community Clean Up Environmental Sanitation
11
Outside the women’s meeting house of the Chihkan community, insects chirped in overlapping rhythms. The air was thick with the damp scent of leaves and soil. The meeting house was a crude structure woven from wooden pillars and rattan, its roof covered with dried rice straw. Inside, the lighting was dim; bamboo lanterns cast a warm orange glow, faintly illuminating the totems and hunting tools hanging on the walls.
Junsheng and Shayun stood encircled by a group of women. Some had their hands on their hips, others folded their arms across their chests, while a few bent down to inspect the objects laid out on the ground. Beside Shayun were several earthen jars and glass bottles filled with clean and dirty water, along with a neatly folded white mosquito net. Curious glances flickered among the women, accompanied by a constant murmur of whispered conversation.
Dabangya stepped into the center of the crowd and raised her thick, muscular arm to signal for silence.
“Sisters, we have gathered today so that everyone may learn how to protect our families from infectious diseases and live healthy lives. I have invited this foreign doctor to explain these matters to us.”
Limei, standing in the front row, nodded eagerly.
“This foreign doctor is no ordinary person. My sama had terrible stomach pains a few days ago and kept running to the latrine—he was completely exhausted. Shayun said there was nothing she could do, but luckily we met this doctor. After two days of medicine, he was cured.”
“That’s right!” another woman, Lalu, chimed in. “My brother Kali’s fever illness was cured by Doctor Junsheng. His medical skills are truly remarkable!”
As she spoke, Lalu smiled at Junsheng, her eyes sparkling with admiration and gratitude. Seeing this, Shayun’s lips curved ever so slightly upward.
Junsheng stepped forward, his tone gentle yet clear.
“I am Junsheng from the Netherlands. Thank you, sisters, for your kind words. The chief has given me this opportunity to share some concepts and methods for preventing disease.”
He scanned the room, meeting each pair of eyes to ensure their attention. Lalu clasped her hands together, smiling intently. Limei stroked her chin, deep in thought.
Junsheng continued,
“Many infectious diseases arise because we neglect environmental and personal hygiene. That is why we must learn to prevent illness in advance and take practical measures.”
A voice called out from the crowd.
“Doctor, what kind of practical measures?”
Junsheng gave a slight nod to Shayun. She bent down, picked up a glass jar, and handed it to him. Their fingers brushed lightly in the brief exchange.
Holding the jar up, Junsheng revealed murky water inside, with several black larvae wriggling restlessly, like anxious souls churning in the depths.
“This water is already contaminated, and mosquito larvae are growing in it. Please take a close look.”
The jar passed from hand to hand. Some women gasped, others frowned, and some widened their eyes in shock.
“So these little worms are mosquito larvae?” Limei leaned in, her eyes filled with curiosity and revulsion.
“Yes,” Junsheng explained. “Mosquitoes lay their eggs in stagnant water. The larvae hatch and grow there. If we leave water containers exposed, we give mosquitoes the opportunity to multiply.”
Lalu frowned. “Then what should we do?”
Junsheng picked up two earthen jars, one in each hand.
“The water in my left hand has been boiled. The water in my right hand is raw. They may taste the same, but raw water contains many bacteria and microorganisms invisible to the naked eye. Drinking it can make us sick, even cost lives.”
“But when I’m hunting in the mountains, I drink stream water and nothing happens,” Lalu interjected.
Junsheng smiled.
“You may be strong, or perhaps lucky enough not to drink polluted water. But we cannot rely on luck alone.”
Shayun added,
“The doctor means we should always prepare clean boiled water. Even when working or hunting outdoors, we can carry boiled water in deer-skin flasks or bamboo tubes.”
Daya laughed.
“Lalu, you’re so strong that even mosquitoes probably don’t dare bite you.”
Laughter rippled through the group. Lalu laughed along, unbothered by the teasing.
At that moment, Junsheng picked up the white mosquito net.
“Shayun, hold the other end for me.”
She nodded and stepped forward. Together, they stretched the net open. The white mesh glowed softly under the lantern light, like a woven curtain of light.
“This net prevents mosquitoes from entering, especially those that spread fever diseases. If patients sleep under it, mosquitoes won’t bite them, and the disease won’t spread easily.”
Dabangya looked around at the crowd.
“The doctor is right. Sisters, we’ve learned a lot today, but these methods must be put into practice. I propose we divide the village into groups and clean the environment together.”
“Great! That’s wonderful!” Limei exclaimed, waving her hands excitedly.
“And we ask Doctor Junsheng to guide us along the way,” Dabangya said respectfully.
Junsheng smiled gently.
“I would be happy to help.”
12
In the lanes of Chihkan community, morning light spilled softly onto the bluestone paths, as if laying a warm golden veil over the land. Wooden houses and thatched huts stood in harmonious clusters. Red cloth strips hung at doorways, swaying gently in the breeze, while the scents of grass and cooking smoke mingled in the air.
Junsheng and Shayun walked side by side, their steps light. Shayun’s long hair was tied into a bundle, swaying slightly with each step. Junsheng held sheets of paper recording patients’ conditions, occasionally lifting his head to exchange greetings with villagers.
Villagers tidying their homes greeted them warmly as they passed.
“Doctor!” one villager waved. “We followed your advice and started clearing the standing water in front of our houses!”
Junsheng nodded with a smile.
“That’s excellent. A clean home leads to a healthy life. Keep it up!”
Shayun bent down to inspect a water jar outside one house, stirring the surface with her hand.
“This water should be changed regularly, or mosquitoes will breed.”
Another villager approached, holding a frail child, gratitude written all over her face.
“Doctor, after using the ointment you prescribed, my son’s itchy skin has improved.”
Junsheng gently patted the child’s shoulder, smiling warmly.
“Your son’s itching was caused by flea bites. Apply the medicine regularly and it will heal. Remember to wash and sun-dry bedding often, and you can spray chili water or garlic water in the bedroom to repel insects.”
The villager nodded vigorously.
“Yes, doctor! Thank you!”
At that moment, another woman carrying a bamboo basket approached with a radiant smile.
“Shayun, the beans you gave me have grown so many pods!”
Shayun clapped her hands in delight.
“That’s wonderful! The bean kernels can be cooked with millet into porridge, and the pods can be steamed and eaten with sauce.”
Nearby, Daya approached, panting, her hands caked with mud.
Junsheng noticed the clogged ditch in front of her house and frowned slightly.
“Daya, the drainage ditch in front of your house is blocked. That can easily breed mosquitoes. It needs to be cleared soon.”
Daya tilted her head, catching her breath.
“I remember what you said! Once I finish washing the jars, I’ll clear the ditch.”
Suddenly, a creaking ox cart rolled slowly down the lane. Kali drove the cart, loaded with goods—wooden barrels and burlap sacks swaying with the motion. When he saw Junsheng and Shayun walking side by side, his gaze froze for a moment.
Kali raised his hand and forced a casual tone.
“Junsheng, Shayun! I’m heading to Chihkan City to deliver goods. Want me to stop by Dayuan Port Clinic and pick up some medicine for you?”
Junsheng smiled and shook his head.
“No need for now. The clinic still has enough medicine for the time being.”
Kali scratched the back of his head, unable to hide the heaviness in his voice.
“Alright then… I’ll get going.”
Shayun waved.
“Take care on the road, Kali.”
The ox cart creaked away, Kali’s back looking unusually heavy. The swaying cargo mirrored the unease in his heart.
He muttered to himself,
“Why do Shayun and Junsheng seem inseparable lately? Could it be that Shayun… No. I must take the initiative during the upcoming Firefly Festival…”
________________________________________
13
Kali swung his machete by the bamboo grove. Sunlight filtered through towering bamboo leaves, scattering dappled light across his arms and blade. Each strike produced a sharp crack as bamboo split apart, fragments flying as though the air itself trembled.
Nearby, Daya approached with a basket full of freshly harvested green bamboo shoots, speckled with soil.
Smiling, she asked,
“Kali, what are you cutting bamboo for?”
She set the basket down, hands on her hips, suspicion flickering in her eyes.
Startled, Kali flushed and stammered,
“N–nothing! Just cutting some bamboo to fix the… railing outside the house! Yes, the railing!”
Daya raised an eyebrow, smirking.
“I don’t think so. Usually your sister Lalu cuts bamboo.”
Kali turned away in a panic and resumed chopping, but struck too hard and jammed the blade into a bamboo joint. He cursed softly and struggled to pull it free.
“Lalu’s busy studying mosquito nets, so she sent me!” His voice trembled.
Daya crossed her arms casually.
“Your face is red, and you still claim your sister sent you? If I’m not mistaken, you’re preparing for the Firefly Festival. I’ve known you long enough, Kali.”
Kali scratched his head awkwardly.
“Daya, I…”
She sighed softly, her gaze gentle.
Limei and I have known for a long time—you like Shayun, the chief’s daughter. We think you’re a good match.”
She paused, then added with quiet concern,
“But since that blond foreign doctor appeared, Shayun seems completely captivated by him. If you want to be with her, you’ll need to be more proactive.”
Kali stared at his machete, lost and dejected.
“I feel it too… Shayun has changed—like the wind in this bamboo grove suddenly shifting direction.”
Daya smiled and patted his shoulder.
“Then confess during the Firefly Festival. Bamboo must be cut, and words must be spoken. Keeping them inside won’t help.”
Kali’s grip tightened, trembling slightly. He finally looked up, resolve flickering in his eyes.
“I plan to… but I’m afraid she’ll reject me.”
Daya shook her head firmly.
“Fear is natural. But you have to try.”
After a long pause, Kali forced a bitter smile.
“Maybe you’re right. Thank you, Daya.”
She waved lightly.
“Finish cutting the bamboo and head home. Don’t let your courage blow away with the wind.”
As she walked down the path, Kali watched her back, gripping the machete tightly, as though he had finally made up his mind.
________________________________________
14
At noon in the Chihkan Community Chinese Medical Clinic, sunlight slanted through paper-paned windows, casting a warm sheen across the wooden examination table. Bamboo blinds swayed gently, carrying in soft breezes mixed with distant sounds of chickens and dogs.
Having finished seeing patients, Junsheng carefully cleaned his silver needles and instruments. The scent of alcohol lingered on his fingers, his movements precise and swift, like a general tending weapons after battle.
Shayun emerged from the dispensary carrying a basket of sun-dried herbs, her steps light yet hesitant.
“Doctor, fewer people have come for treatment these past few days.”
She set the basket down, her eyes bright with quiet joy.
“That’s a good sign,” Junsheng said, closing the wooden case with a crisp click.
“It means our disease-prevention efforts are working.” His voice carried steady pride.
“By the way,” Shayun added softly, fingers brushing the herbs,
“Our annual Firefly Festival is coming soon.”
“Firefly Festival?” Junsheng raised an eyebrow.
Her cheeks flushed.
“It’s… basically a lovers’ festival. Young men and women gather at night to drink, sing, and dance. Then the men confess their feelings.”
Junsheng chuckled, arms folded.
“Oh? Sounds interesting.”
“You should come and see,” Shayun said playfully. “You might be moved.”
“Moved?” Junsheng smiled faintly.
“I haven’t really thought about that.”
“That’s fine,” she said, hiding nervousness behind a smile.
“Just come with me. If you fancy a girl, tell me—I’ll help.”
“Help?” Junsheng laughed lightly.
“Look how busy I am every day. Where would I find time for romance?”
“When you meet someone you like, you’ll want to,” she murmured.
“Perhaps,” he replied, his gaze lingering on her face.
She stepped closer, eyes sparkling.
“Want me to prepare a firefly bamboo tube for you? It might come in handy.”
“A firefly bamboo tube?” he asked curiously.
“It’s the token men use to confess on that night!”
Junsheng laughed helplessly.
“I think I’ll pass. I’m just going to observe.”
Her smile dimmed slightly, but she quickly turned away to busy herself with the herbs.
Junsheng watched her back as the breeze stirred loose leaves, drifting between them like unspoken feelings—present, yet elusive.
________________________________________
15
At a bamboo desk by the window, Junsheng leaned forward slightly, his pen whispering across yellowed pages. Moonlight filtered through banana leaves, scattering like silver across the tabletop and illuminating his calm, focused face. Shadows swayed gently on the bamboo-and-mud walls, like a silent tide.
The door creaked softly as Kali stepped inside, careful with his footsteps, though the wooden floor still sighed faintly. He stood behind Junsheng, hesitating.
“Doctor, you’re still awake?” Kali asked quietly.
Junsheng paused and smiled.
“Yes. I’m writing my journal.”
“Your journal?” Kali stepped closer.
“Just recording the important things that happened today.”
Kali nodded vaguely.
“Oh… um… what do you think of my sister Lalu?”
Junsheng looked up calmly.
“Lalu? She’s generous and easy to get along with.”
“That’s not what I mean,” Kali said softly, staring intently.
“I mean… have you noticed how she feels about you…”
His voice faltered. Junsheng raised an eyebrow, puzzled.
“You mean because she sewed clothes for me?”
“No,” Kali shook his head anxiously.
“Since you arrived, she’s become gentler. Before, we argued all the time. My sama said she was as rough as a man.”
“As a man?” Junsheng echoed.
“Strong-willed. Not delicate,” Kali said with a self-mocking smile.
“But since you came, she’s changed.”
Junsheng shook his head sincerely.
“I don’t see it. Lalu has always been gentle.”
“That’s because of you,” Kali insisted.
“She changed for you.”
After a pause, Junsheng said softly,
“I understand. But to me, Lalu is like my younger sister. My own sister died of illness years ago.”
Kali froze, regret flickering in his eyes.
“I’m sorry, Junsheng.”
“Don’t worry,” Junsheng said gently.
“She died of acute pneumonia. I watched her fade away, helpless. That’s why I became a doctor.”
Moonlight dripped through banana leaves like silent tears. Frogs and insects sang endlessly.
Kali took a breath.
“Tomorrow night is the Firefly Festival. Would you like to go?”
Junsheng set down his pen, smiling.
“I heard about it. I’ll just observe. My focus is on work—I’m not thinking about settling down.”
Kali sighed lightly.
“I was going to prepare a bamboo tube for you. Guess it won’t be needed. Lalu might be disappointed.”
Junsheng smiled bitterly.
“She’s a good girl. I’m sure she’ll find someone better suited for her.”

Chapter Four
Courtship Between Men and Women at the Firefly Festival
16
The open square before the village meeting hall was encircled by burning pine-torch flames. Firelight reflected on youthful faces that rose and fell like waves. Young men and women of marriageable age sang and danced together—girls forming the inner circle, spinning lightly as their long skirts flared, tassels on woven garments swaying like drifting willow catkins; boys moved in the outer ring, their steps slightly clumsy, yet unable to conceal the nervous excitement and bashfulness in their hearts.
A small ensemble sat at one corner of the square. Short flutes played brisk melodies, while gongs and percussion answered in alternating rhythms, driving the atmosphere to a boiling pitch.
Junsheng danced along with Kali and Ali. Though his movements were somewhat out of sync, he tried his best to imitate the villagers’ steps, occasionally earning teasing nods and encouraging laughter from Kali and Ali. Lalu blended into the group of girls; her flushed face carried a faint smile, yet her eyes repeatedly drifted toward Junsheng, like autumn water gliding over moonlight.
When the music came to an end, the boys and girls returned to their respective seating areas. Dabangya and several elders stepped slowly into the center of the square. Holding a round drum carved with intricate patterns, Dabangya lifted the drumstick solemnly and struck three deep, resonant beats.
“The time has come,” Dabangya declared, her voice steady and strong. “May those whose hearts are aligned let the light of the fireflies guide their future.”
The boys rose, each holding a bamboo tube filled with fireflies, and walked toward the girl of his choice. The rattan-wrapped bamboo glimmered in the torchlight, symbolizing hearts long restrained yet burning fiercely.
Besides Kali, another young man stood before Shayun—Walumi, an honest, simple youth whose bamboo tube trembled slightly in his palms.
“Shayun, please accept my feelings,” Walumi said, kneeling on one knee and lifting the bamboo tube with both hands. His eyes carried both longing and fear.
Shayun froze for a moment, her cheeks tinged pink as her gaze darted around nervously. She quickly composed herself and accepted the bamboo tube with a gentle smile. When she opened the lid, several fireflies flew out, hovering before her like scattered gold dust, their tiny lights flickering.
“I’m sorry, Walumi,” Shayun said softly, her tone tender yet resolute. “I can accept your sincerity, but I cannot give you the response you hope for.”
Walumi’s expression collapsed, as if all his strength had been drained away. Lowering his head, he walked off with heavy steps.
Next came Kali. Standing before Shayun, he tried to appear composed, but the trembling of his fingers gripping the bamboo tube betrayed him.
“Shayun, this is for you,” he forced a smile, extending the bamboo tube without daring to meet her eyes.
“Kali, I’ve always thought of you as my brother,” Shayun said gently, pushing the tube away with a trace of apology in her voice. “I’m sorry—I’m not prepared to accept your feelings.”
Kali’s smile froze instantly, the disappointment in his eyes untouched even by the firelight.
“If Junsheng hadn’t appeared, would you still treat me this way?” he asked in a low, hoarse voice, almost gritting his teeth.
Shayun fell silent for a moment, her gaze fixed on the distant flames.
“Kali, this has nothing to do with Junsheng. I have never imagined any possibility between us beyond that of brother and sister.”
Kali nodded, forcing a self-mocking smile.
“Yes… I suppose I was thinking too much.”
He returned to the boys’ seating area, his steps uneven, like a stream stumbling over stones.
Ali now stood before Lalu. Facing his earnest expression, Lalu seemed distracted, her gaze slipping through the crowd toward Junsheng, who appeared indifferent as he sipped millet wine from a bamboo cup. Ali offered the bamboo tube with both hands, his voice trembling.
“Lalu, I want to be the one who makes you happy.”
Lalu lowered her head and gently waved her hand.
“I’m sorry, Ali…” Her voice drifted away like something scattered by the wind—fragile and faint.
Ali flushed and walked back with his head lowered. Seeing him, Kali patted his shoulder and forced a smile.
“Don’t be too upset, Ali. My sister refused you because… she may already have someone she cares about.”
Ali stared blankly at Kali, frowning slightly.
“You mean Lalu has someone in her heart? Who is it?”
Kali’s gaze passed through the crowd and settled on Junsheng, who continued sipping his millet wine calmly, his expression distant and composed.
“I think it’s the foreign doctor, Junsheng,” Kali said with a bitter smile.
Ali’s face paled slightly before he lowered his head in defeat.
“If it’s Junsheng… then I have nothing to say.”
Music rose once more at the center of the square. Boys whose offerings had been accepted took their partners’ hands and stepped into a new dance. Firelight and moonlight intertwined as laughter and song bloomed into the night sky.
Yet Shayun and Lalu each harbored unspoken thoughts. Both girls, without prior agreement, fixed their gaze on Junsheng’s face. Junsheng, however, remained like an outsider, quietly watching the dancing crowd.
Kali stared at Shayun, turmoil surging within him like tides.
“Shayun… should I bless you and Junsheng?”
________________________________________
17
In the living room, a gentle breeze flowed in through the window, swaying wind chimes hanging from the beam and producing crisp sounds. Sunlight slanted across wooden walls and bamboo flooring, while faint scents of grass leaves and spent fireworks lingered in the air. Lalu sat on a low woven stool, focused on her wooden loom, her hands deftly interlacing hemp threads to weave a delicate gauze canopy. Beside her lay a basket of sun-dried wild cotton and unfinished fabric panels, their intricate patterns reflecting her care.
By the window, Kali leaned against a pillar, holding a bamboo cup of millet wine. His gaze was vacant as he stared at a bougainvillea in full bloom outside the courtyard. He took a quiet sip, heavy gloom clouding his brow.
Lalu paused her work and looked up at her brother, frowning with concern.
“Brother, you’ve been drinking since morning. It must be because Shayun rejected you last night—I’m not wrong, am I?”
Kali tugged at the corner of his mouth in a bitter smile, swallowing a wordless disappointment.
“You’re right, Lalu… I still had a bit of hope.”
Lalu stood and walked over, gently patting his arm. Her voice was soft.
“Try to let it go. I sensed it long ago—Shayun already has someone else in her heart.”
Kali blinked and turned toward her.
“You mean Junsheng, right?”
Lalu nodded lightly, leaning against the window and gazing at the pale-blue outline of distant mountains.
“Yes. My intuition tells me it’s him. But… you might still have a chance. Unless Junsheng truly plans to stay in our village, nothing is settled.”
Kali lowered his head, swirling the wine in his bamboo cup, ripples trembling on the surface.
“As long as Junsheng is here, Shayun won’t even look at me. Even if she doesn’t say it, her heart has already drifted to that foreign doctor.”
Lalu turned toward him, her tone quickening.
“But you know this too—Junsheng is only a passerby. He’ll leave Chihkan sooner or later. If Shayun truly wants to follow him, it means giving up her right to inherit leadership. The price is too high; Dabangya would never allow it.”
Her voice fell lower, her gaze settling on the shifting tree shadows outside, as if hiding a trace of sorrow within the seams of sunlight.
Kali drained his wine and sighed deeply.
“You’re right… but I’m truly afraid she’ll give up everything for him.”
After a pause, he glanced sideways at his sister, his voice low but serious.
“Lalu, you like Junsheng too, don’t you? I’m not wrong, am I?”
Lalu frowned slightly, lowered her head, a faint blush rising to her cheeks. She then looked up and smiled faintly.
“Yes. But to him… I’m just a friend. Lately, he and Shayun go on rounds and gather herbs together all the time. How could I not feel something? I just pretend not to see it.”
She bit her lip, her voice tinged with bitterness.
“I’m afraid that, over time, the two of them will grow closer and closer…”
Kali suddenly slapped the window frame, his voice firm and resolute.
“Since you like him too, we should tell sama and have him intervene. This concerns Shayun’s future—and your happiness as well.”
Lalu widened her eyes.
“Is that really a good idea? If Shayun finds out… she’ll resent us.”
Kali turned to her, his tone heavy but unwavering.
“That can’t be helped. I can’t stand by and watch her lose everything for Junsheng. And you can’t just give up like this. For both of us, we have to speak up.”
Lalu hesitated, then finally nodded, still uncertain.
“Alright… but brother, be careful with your words. Don’t make things harder to fix.”
Kali smiled faintly, a spark of long-lost resolve rekindling. Just as he stepped toward the door, he collided with their father, Dali Guan, entering.
“Sama…” Kali froze, his voice flustered.
Dali Guan stepped in slowly, his expression solemn, eyes sharp as a hawk.
“I heard everything you just said.”
Kali stiffened and bowed his head.
“Sama… I only wanted what’s best for Shayun—and for Lalu…”
“I understand your concerns,” Dali Guan said gravely, placing his hunting knife gently onto the wooden rack by the wall. “If Shayun truly intends to marry Junsheng, someone must make her understand the price. I will handle this matter personally.”
Sunlight fell across his resolute face, as if foretelling a decision yet to unfold. The air in the room subtly tightened, like the omen of an approaching storm.
________________________________________
18
Afternoon sunlight spilled across the mountain path of Chihkan Village. Wind swept through cedar forests, carrying the mixed scents of pine resin and damp earth. Draped in a dark-blue woven shawl, Dali Guan walked at the front with steady steps, followed by three tribal elders along the stone stairway leading to the chief’s residence. His expression was grave, unease flickering in his eyes amid shifting shadows.
Leaning on his bamboo staff, Wadang spoke quietly,
“If Junsheng and Shayun truly care for each other, this must be dealt with quickly. We cannot allow the foreign doctor to take Chihkan’s future chief away.”
Ma Wu frowned slightly.
“But if Shayun willingly gives up inheritance to choose her own path, do we have the right to stop her? She is both chief and woman—she has the right to choose her marriage.”
Chaisang snorted coldly.
“Since ancient times, no female chief has abandoned her lineage for love. If word spreads, not only will the ancestral spirits be unsettled—the people will not accept it either.”
“I understand all of that,” Dali Guan said quietly, fixing his gaze on the house carved with eagle and hundred-pacer snake motifs ahead. “But in the end, it depends on what Chief Dabangya decides.”
Entering the courtyard, the sounds of chickens and dogs mingled. Several women drying grain looked up in surprise and hurried inside to report. Soon, Dabangya emerged from the porch, dressed in a deep-purple embroidered robe, her steps steady, her presence authoritative yet composed. Her deep-set eyes, clear as mountain springs, swept over the visitors. Behind her stood her husband, Li Qinghua, clad in a dark-blue Tang-style robe, reserved in demeanor.
“Dali Guan, you’ve come together today—has something serious happened in the village?” Dabangya asked calmly.
Dali Guan clasped his hands respectfully.
“Chief, this concerns Shayun and the foreign doctor, Junsheng. We must report this to you directly.”
“Speak,” Dabangya said, her gaze darkening as she led them inside.
The interior was dim, ancestral tablets and antlers hanging from wooden pillars, the atmosphere solemn. Li Qinghua poured tea himself, unhurried, handing a cup to Wadang with a gentle smile.
“Please sit. Let’s talk this through calmly—let no misunderstandings harm our harmony.”
Dali Guan spoke gravely,
“Shayun and Junsheng have been spending much time together. This has stirred considerable discussion among the people. She is the heir to the chieftainship—if she develops feelings for a foreigner and later chooses to leave, it would be a great blow to the village.”
Wadang accepted the tea, brow furrowed.
“If Junsheng intends to take her away from Chihkan, that would violate our ancestral laws!”
Ma Wu spoke softly.
“But if Shayun voluntarily gives up inheritance—shouldn’t that be her choice?”
Chaisang slammed the table.
“Absolutely not! The succession of a chief is no trivial matter. Their constant closeness has already caused unrest. This is not merely about feelings—it concerns the stability of the tribe!”
Dabangya remained silent, listening. She lowered her head, lightly touching the vine tattoo on her wrist, then looked up, her gaze firm.
“You are right. I cannot ignore this.”
Turning to Li Qinghua, her tone softened slightly.
“What do you think?”
Li Qinghua paused, then smiled calmly.
“I respect your judgment. Shayun is our daughter—I believe she knows her limits. But if necessary, we should first hear her own thoughts.”
Wadang said coldly,
“We’re not saying Shayun is irresponsible. But this matter is too sensitive. If she truly intends to marry the foreign doctor, whether she can still bear the responsibility of inheritance must be reassessed.”
Dabangya nodded.
“I will speak with her personally and clarify her choice. Until then, I ask you not to speculate or spread rumors.”
Li Qinghua stood and added softly,
“Our family will not allow the village to fall into turmoil.”
Dali Guan and the elders exchanged glances, finally nodding in silence.
Wind swept in through the window, stirring the wooden bead curtain with soft clicks. The room grew quiet—only the fragrance of tea and distant birdsong from the mountains remained, like whispered reminders from the mountain spirits that the storm had not yet truly arrived.
________________________________________
19
Night fell like ink. Wind slipped through the cracks in the walls, stirring the white gauze curtains. Inside, a kerosene lamp flickered softly, casting a warm yellow halo on the wooden walls. Shayun leaned over her desk, absorbed in a heavy volume titled Illustrated Western Herbal Compendium. Her left hand propped her chin, while her right marked notes with a pencil. Nearby lay sheets filled with diagrams of meridians and herbs, alongside a cup of bitter tea gone cold.
Heavy footsteps sounded outside. Shayun turned as her mother, Dabangya, entered arm in arm with her father, Li Qinghua. Dabangya wore a deep-purple embroidered robe, her brow slightly furrowed; Li Qinghua looked gentle, though hesitation lingered on his face.
Dabangya sat beside Shayun in a rattan chair, patting her shoulder.
“Shayun, your sama and I need to talk to you.”
Shayun closed the book and turned calmly.
“Yes, sena. Go ahead.”
Dabangya spoke evenly, yet with gathering pressure.
“Dali Guan visited today with several elders. They spoke about you and Junsheng.”
Shayun frowned slightly.
“Junsheng and me? What happened?”
“They say you are Chihkan’s heir,” Dabangya continued, meeting her gaze. “Spending so much time with Junsheng invites gossip and damages your image as a future chief.”
Shayun set down her pencil, displeasure evident.
“Junsheng and I treat the wounded and care for the sick. We work for the village. How can that be twisted into something else? Are those elders that idle?”
Li Qinghua tried to soften the moment.
“Shayun, your sena only worries for you. These words aren’t accusations—we simply don’t want outsiders to misunderstand.”
Dabangya rose and walked to the window, fingers brushing the deer-bone ornaments. Her tone hardened.
“From tomorrow on, you will stop going to the clinic. Stay home and learn sewing from me. I won’t allow idle talk to ferment around my daughter.”
Shayun jumped to her feet, the chair screeching sharply.
“Sena, that’s unreasonable! Junsheng is my mentor. We’re partners. He teaches me medicine—he has never crossed any boundary!”
Li Qinghua stepped forward to calm her, but she brushed his hand aside.
“You are the heir of Chihkan, not an ordinary girl,” Dabangya turned back, voice resolute. “You must know your limits.”
Shayun’s eyes reddened, her voice sharpening.
“You’re just afraid I’ll follow Junsheng and leave Chihkan, aren’t you? You care only about this position, this legacy—you never ask what I truly want!”
“Shayun!” Li Qinghua snapped, anger flashing. “How can you speak to your sena like that?”
Dabangya’s voice rose, cutting through everything.
“I said it already—from tomorrow on, you go nowhere! You are my daughter. I cannot let your fate run unchecked!”
Shayun bit her lip, her face pale. She turned to the window and pulled it open, moonlight washing over her trembling shoulders. She said nothing—only gazed at the silent mountains and the cold moon.
Seeing the tension, Li Qinghua gently touched Dabangya’s arm.
“Don’t push her too hard. Let her calm down. Shayun has always been sensible—she’ll think it through.”
Dabangya, still angry yet filled with maternal sorrow, looked at her daughter’s back without speaking. The couple quietly left the room, leaving behind the flickering lamp and heavy silence.
Moments later, a small door creaked open. Dalae slipped in barefoot, holding the woolen cap Shayun had woven for him.
“Sis… don’t cry,” he whispered, tugging her sleeve. “I heard everything. I’ll help you.”
Shayun lowered her head, seeing her brother’s innocent face, and tears finally fell. She crouched and hugged him, resting her forehead against his.
“Dalae,” she whispered, “I need to write a letter. Tomorrow morning, help me deliver it to Junsheng—will you?”
Dalae’s eyes lit up as he nodded vigorously.
“Yes! I’ll deliver it secretly!”
Shayun stroked his hair, then picked up her pen. Under the moonlight, she unfolded a clean sheet of paper—her heart already decided.
________________________________________
20
The examination room of the Chinese medical clinic carried a faint herbal scent. Bundles of dried mugwort and ginseng roots hung in the corners. Sunset light slanted through the window, falling across Junsheng’s hand as he sat at an old wooden desk, opening the letter Dalae had delivered. The paper trembled slightly between his fingers, mirroring his unsettled heart.
Reaching the final line, Junsheng paused, his brow tightening. He folded the letter carefully and set it down in silence.
Dalae stood nearby, eyes fixed on him, anxiety written plainly on his face.
“Brother Junsheng… my sister has been confined by sena,” Dalae said, fists clenched with grievance.
Junsheng looked up, guilt filling his eyes.
“This is my fault… I never thought things would come to this.”
Dalae lowered his head, scuffing the wooden floor, then suddenly looked up as if gathering courage.
“Brother Junsheng, can I ask you something?”
“Yes,” Junsheng replied softly.
Dalae took a deep breath, staring straight into his eyes.
“Do you like my sister?”
Junsheng froze, then a restrained smile touched his lips. He didn’t answer immediately—only nodded.
Dalae blinked, as if confirming something, then spoke seriously.
“My sister will become the female chief of Chihkan. If you truly like her, you can’t take her away. You have to stay—live with us—so she can feel at ease.”
Junsheng gazed at him, surprise giving way to contemplation. He stood, knelt beside Dalae, and met his eyes.
“You really are a little warrior,” Junsheng said gently, patting his shoulder. “You’re right. I shouldn’t keep retreating. I should let your sister know that I’m willing to stay—to guard this land with her.”
Light flashed in Dalae’s eyes, his lips lifting into a quiet smile.
Looking at the letter in his hand, Junsheng spoke as if sealing a vow.
“She asked to meet me tonight. I’ll go.”
Dalae nodded, nudging his arm.
“Tell her everything—so she won’t be sad anymore. She cried all night… I heard it outside the door.”
Junsheng sighed softly and turned to retrieve his medical kit, preparing for the night ahead.
“It’s time,” he murmured, his gaze firm yet gentle.

Chapter 5 – Shayun Accepts Junsheng’s Confession
21
Night had fallen deeply. In the grove of acacia trees, the breeze rustled softly, and the shadows of leaves swayed gently. Moonlight filtered through the branches and leaves in mottled patches, falling like a light layer of silvery frost. The forest was quiet and still; only the distant murmur of a stream could be heard, like a softly whispered elegy.
Junsheng walked through the forest path, his steps hesitant, his heart pounding like a drum. When he approached the familiar large acacia tree, Shayun was already standing there quietly, dressed in a dark indigo coarse-cloth long garment, her long hair hanging over her shoulders, gazing up at the moonlit branches.
She turned her head, her eyes gentle yet hiding a trace of struggle.
Junsheng stepped forward and spoke in a low voice: “Shayun, I’m sorry. I… have implicated you.”
Shayun gently shook her head, her voice seeming to carry the coolness of the night breeze: “Junsheng, the one who should say sorry is me. I concealed my identity… I was not honest enough.”
The two stood facing each other, falling into silence for a moment. From the distance came the cry of a night bird, like a gentle urging.
Junsheng lowered his eyes and said quietly, “Dalay said… if I want to be with you, I must stay here, move into your home, and guard Chihkan.”
Shayun turned around, leaning her back against the tree trunk, her hands clasped together before her chest, and sighed softly: “Ah… this is the custom of our tribe. If you become the companion of a woman of the tribe, you must remain here. For you, this may be very difficult… My parents also do not wish for me to work together with you, because my status in the tribe is special. They care about the opinions of the tribespeople, and they fear you might be wronged.”
Junsheng stepped closer and gently took her hand: “I understand your difficulty, I truly do. But during these days of working together with you, I have already discovered—your attainments in Han medicine are profound, and your clinical experience is rich. We cooperate seamlessly. You can see the details that I overlook, and I can make up for the doubts you have yet to resolve. We are a match made by heaven.”
His tone shifted, and he added with a smile: “But don’t laugh at me for being too practical!”
Shayun pursed her lips in a smile, yet lowered her head to avoid his gaze: “No. I once thought… if the person you liked were Lalu, perhaps that would be better. She is very good at taking care of people, more careful than I am. My heart is not on those daily household matters of firewood, rice, oil, and salt. To tell the truth, in caring for a household, I am not as capable as she is.”
Junsheng gently lifted her chin, making her look directly at him: “My life is not only about food, clothing, housing, and travel. You know I am not a person who pursues pleasure. You are my most reliable partner, and the one who understands my temperament best. I am willing to stay here—for you.”
He took her hand and placed it against his chest: “I will write a letter back to the Netherlands and personally explain my decision to my parents—I want to be with you and put down roots and settle here in Chihkan.”
A trace of surprise and emotion flashed in Shayun’s eyes. She moved a little closer, a faint blush rising on her cheeks, and said softly: “Hearing you say this… I will no longer feel that I have wronged sister Lalu.”
Junsheng gazed at her and smiled gently: “Shayun, when you smile you are truly beautiful, like… the goddess of the Aegean Sea in Greek mythology, Venus, possessing both beauty and wisdom.”
Shayun lightly pushed him and burst into laughter: “Stop flattering me. If you keep talking like that, I’ll really believe it and think I truly am Venus.”
Junsheng tightened his hold on her hand and said seriously: “What I said comes from my heart. Shayun…”
Shayun smiled and closed her eyes gently, as if granting silent permission, or as if quietly waiting. Junsheng lowered his head and gently kissed her lips.
The night breeze brushed softly, the forest leaves rustling like the whispers of lovers.
After the kiss, Junsheng said softly: “Director Thomas of the Tayouan Medical Office has asked me to prepare to go, in a few days, to Sinkang and the nearby villages to carry out itinerant medical treatment.”
Shayun raised her head, a trace of worry in her eyes: “Do you want me to accompany you?”
Junsheng gently stroked her hair: “If you accompany me, then what about Chihkan here? What if someone comes seeking medical treatment—”
Shayun smiled lightly: “Recently there haven’t been many people in the community seeking treatment. It should be alright.”
Junsheng frowned and asked: “But… will your parents agree?”
Shayun nodded firmly: “I will persuade them. Just as you said, we are partners, each other’s right and left hands. As long as we are together, there is nothing to fear.”
The two looked at each other once again. Beneath the moonlight, the gaze they exchanged was already worth more than a thousand words.
22
The night wind, carrying the damp scent of the mountain forest, rushed through the cracks of the door. The dim yellow oil lamp cast swaying shadows on the wall. As soon as Shayun stepped into the house, before she had even removed the cloak from her shoulders, she saw Dabanya sitting upright beside the log table, wearing an over-garment embroidered with the tribal emblem, her expression stern, her hands clasped together on her knees. It was obvious that she had been waiting for a long time.
Shayun was startled in her heart, and her steps stopped. The edge of her cloak was still dripping with the damp dew of the forest.
Dabanya spoke coldly: “You ran out in the middle of the night—was it to see Junsheng?”
Shayun was taken aback, lowered her eyelashes, and said softly: “Sena…”
Dabanya’s voice suddenly rose a little: “Didn’t I tell you not to go look for him again? You are a young girl running out in the middle of the night—aren’t you afraid of encountering bad people?”
Shayun bit her lip, her eyes flickering with stubbornness: “Sena, Junsheng is not a bad person.”
Dabanya struck the tabletop heavily with her hand, and the water in the cup trembled slightly: “Junsheng indeed is not a bad person, but he is a foreigner, and sooner or later he will leave Chihkan! And you are the princess of the Chihkan tribe, the future heir to the chieftain—please remember your identity!”
Shayun stepped two steps closer and raised her head to meet her mother’s gaze, her eyes firm: “Sena, Junsheng said he is willing to stay in Chihkan for me.”
Dabanya was momentarily speechless. She slightly narrowed her eyes as she observed her daughter, her tone low and doubtful: “You believe the promise Junsheng gave?”
Shayun smiled, her tone gentle yet resolute: “I believe it, just like you once believed Sama.”
Dabanya’s expression flickered, as if struck by an old memory. Her eyes wandered for a moment. She said softly: “But Junsheng is a foreigner… Will his parents agree for him to marry into our family?”
Shayun nodded and walked to sit beside the table: “He said he will write a letter back and report it to his parents. He will not let me face rumors and gossip alone.”
Dabanya pondered for a moment, her gaze falling upon her daughter’s face. In those eyes she saw the same determination and passion she herself had possessed when she was young. Finally, she sighed and said: “Alright then, I will wait for him to personally state it to me.”
Shayun’s eyes lit up, the corners of her mouth rising into a smile. Suddenly she leaned toward her mother’s shoulder in a coquettish manner, gently shaking her arm: “Sena, then… I want to accompany Junsheng to the nearby villages to carry out itinerant medical treatment. Is that alright?”
Dabanya’s expression changed, and her body leaned back slightly: “That would not be good, would it? The two of you are not yet engaged, and people will speak idle gossip behind your backs.”
Shayun leaned even closer, her fingers lightly tugging at her mother’s sleeve, and her tone carried a trace of playfulness: “What gossip is there to say? Junsheng is going for itinerant medical treatment, and I am his assistant. We are not going on a trip.”
Dabanya raised her eyebrows and asked with a mocking tone: “You are defending him that much?”
Shayun giggled, her eyes curving like crescents. Resting her head on her mother’s shoulder, she said in a coquettish tone: “Sena~ don’t be like that…”
Dabanya turned her head to look at her daughter’s familiar yet unfamiliar appearance, as if seeing the self who had once been madly in love years ago.
The corners of her mouth twitched slightly as she concealed the contradictory emotions within her heart, and she only said calmly: “You must promise me—no matter what happens to him in the future, you must remember who you are.”
________________________________________
23
The afternoon sun slanted down onto the ox-cart road outside the Chihkan settlement. Wind blew from the valley, rolling up dust and fallen leaves from the dirt ground. Shayun and her younger brother Dalay each carried a bamboo basket on their backs, walking slowly along the winding path. She kept her head lowered, her face gloomy, saying nothing. The bamboo basket emitted the faint fragrance of several bundles of herbs, yet it could not suppress the gloom in her chest.
From behind came the jingling of an ox bell. An ox cart slowly drove down from the slope above. As the wheels rolled over the road, they made creaking sounds. The driver of the ox cart, Kali, saw the brother and sister from afar. His eyes lit up, and he quickly raised his voice and called out: “Shayun, Dalay—”
When the ox cart drew closer, he immediately pulled the rope and stopped the cart. He jumped down nimbly, and the moment his toes touched the ground, a cloud of dust rose.
“Let me give you a ride back. Walking this stretch of road is tiring too.” Kali showed his usual gentle smile and patted the wooden plank beside the cart.
Shayun did not even raise her head. She merely replied gloomily: “No need. The village is not far. We’ll just walk.”
Kali frowned, keenly sensing that something was wrong with the atmosphere. He stepped forward two steps and asked in a low voice: “What’s wrong? Shayun, who are you angry with?”
Shayun stopped walking and finally lifted her head to look at him, her eyes cold: “You ask me? Why don’t you ask yourself, Kali! Why did you let your sama bring the elders to our house?”
Kali was stunned by her questioning. His Adam’s apple moved as he swallowed, and he answered frankly: “I didn’t want you and Junsheng to become entangled.”
“Junsheng didn’t entangle me!” Shayun’s voice rose a little, and the basket on her back swayed. “And besides, it was you—it was you who brought Junsheng to the Han medical clinic in the first place, wasn’t it?”
Kali’s expression became complicated. He lowered his head and kicked a small stone on the ground. His tone suddenly became regretful: “Yes… I regret it now. I really shouldn’t have brought him to the settlement.”
Shayun was so angry that she clenched the straps of her basket with both hands. Her cheeks flushed red, as if misunderstood and also as if hurt: “Kali, I have always regarded you as an elder brother. Even if Junsheng had never come to Chihkan, I would still have regarded you that way.”
“I don’t believe it.” Kali shook his head. His voice was hoarse, and his eyes stared straight at her. “My intuition tells me—Junsheng’s appearance has changed your attitude toward me.”
Shayun’s eyes flickered for a moment. After a brief silence she said: “If you want to say it that way, I have nothing to say.”
Kali stepped one step closer to her, his tone urgent and low: “You like him. I can see it.”
Shayun looked toward the distant mountains, as if searching for an exit. She slowly nodded, yet her voice was extremely calm: “Yes, I like Junsheng. But that is something I only confirmed recently. Junsheng has given my life direction. He made me understand that I can do something for others. I am not only the princess of the tribe—I can also be his assistant, someone who can truly help patients.”
Kali’s lips trembled slightly. In his eyes appeared sorrow that he could not conceal. He raised one hand, as if wanting to touch her shoulder, yet it stopped in midair and eventually dropped.
“Shayun…” he murmured, his voice carrying loss and pleading, “I’m just afraid you’ll be hurt…”
Shayun turned around and gave no further reply, only letting her back grow longer and longer in the light of the setting sun.
Kali turned around in dejection and dragged his steps back to the ox cart. Placing both hands on the side of the cart, his movements were much heavier than before. He climbed up and slowly flicked the whip to urge the ox forward. The cart creaked as it continued onward, and the sound of the wheels and the ox bell seemed especially lonely.
Dalay stood where he was, watching Kali’s figure grow farther and farther away. He quietly said to his sister: “Sis… Kali seemed really sad just now.”
Shayun gently let out a breath, her eyes firm: “Better a short pain than a long one. I should have made things clear with him.”
24
Through the lattice windows of the Han medical clinic in Chihkan settlement poured the damp light of evening. The air was filled with the mixed scent of medicinal herbs and alcohol. The sky was gloomy, and raindrops had already begun striking the window lattice. Peals of thunder seemed to come from the distant mountains, shaking the entire small house so that it trembled slightly.
Shayun stood before the wooden table, holding a piece of white cloth soaked in hot water, carefully wiping the metal instruments. The surface of the instruments reflected her concentrated expression and a trace of fatigue. The medicine jars on the wooden shelf were arranged neatly, and each jar had a label written in Shayun’s own hand.
At this moment, Junsheng had just sent away the last patient and staggered out from the consultation room. His steps were unsteady, and he had to hold onto the doorframe to steady himself. Fine beads of sweat seeped from his forehead, his face pale. With both hands braced on the edge of the table, his body suddenly went weak and he almost fell.
“Junsheng!” Shayun was startled and hurried over to support him. “What’s wrong with you?”
Junsheng tried to stand upright and forced a faint smile at the corner of his mouth. “It’s nothing, just a little… dizziness.”
“You’re lying. Your face is as white as paper!” Shayun frowned and grasped his arm with one hand. In that instant, she felt an unusual chill.
“Why is your skin so cold…?” she murmured, her brows knitting tighter and tighter. “Junsheng, could it be that you have… contracted malaria?”
Junsheng smiled weakly and said in a low voice, “Maybe I’m just too tired… let me rest a bit and I’ll be fine.”
Shayun did not argue further. With one hand supporting his waist and the other bracing his arm, she said, “Come, I’ll help you into the rest room.”
Junsheng’s body leaned almost entirely against her. Shayun struggled as she half dragged and half supported him into the tatami room inside. The sound of rain pounded densely on the eaves like thousands of galloping horses. Lightning flashed and thunder roared outside the window, the light flickering uncertainly as it shone in.
Shayun helped him lie down, immediately fetched a thick wool blanket to cover him, and then crouched down to search through a wooden box for medicine bottles. She quickly poured out some light-gray medicinal powder into a bamboo cup, added some warm water, and gently stirred it.
She sat back down beside Junsheng and softly called to him, “Junsheng, drink a little medicine. I’ll help you sit up…”
Junsheng’s eyes were blurred, half awake and half asleep, and he gave a faint response. Shayun half embraced him, letting him lean against her shoulder, and fed him the medicine spoonful by spoonful until he finished it. The bitterness of the medicine spread between the two of them. Junsheng frowned slightly, and finally relaxed his body and fell into a deep sleep.
Shayun gently laid him back on the pillow, tucked the blanket properly, and once again touched his forehead. It was astonishingly hot. Her fingertips lingered on his forehead for a long time, her gaze gentle yet filled with pain.
She sat quietly at the edge of the bed, looking at his sleeping face. In her ears were only the sounds of wind and rain and his faint breathing. She murmured softly, “Junsheng… you are always like this, carrying all the burdens alone…”
She lowered her head, pressing her forehead against his, and let out a long breath. That breath seemed like the release of some long-suppressed weight in her heart.
After a while, Shayun slowly unfastened the buttons of the clothing on her shoulders, her movements calm and resolute. She took off her outer garment, lifted the blanket, and gently slipped inside, embracing Junsheng from behind. Her arms wrapped around his cold body, pressing close to his temperature, as if wanting to pass her own warmth to him.
Outside, the thunder still roared. Inside the room, only her heartbeat and Junsheng’s faint breathing remained, intertwining into a quiet sense of peace.
________________________________________
25
Outside, torrential rain was pouring down. Raindrops as large as beans struck the iron roof, producing dense popping sounds like ten thousand drums beating together, making people feel restless and irritated. The wind passed through the mountains and forced its way in through the cracks of the window, lifting the cloth curtain at the corner of the wall. Rainwater slid down along the window frame and dripped into a basin beneath the windowsill, making crisp dripping sounds.
Kali and Daliguan sat beside the long table. On the table was a clay pot of wild boar meat that was steaming hot. In the soup floated several slices of ginger and the fragrance of millet wine. The charcoal fire glowed faintly red, occasionally making small popping sounds.
Lalu stood by the window with her arms crossed over her chest, her forehead pressed against the cold windowsill. Her gaze was fixed on the hazy alleyway outside, and she said nothing.
Kali picked up a piece of wild boar meat with his chopsticks and gently blew on it to cool it. He glanced at Lalu and said, “Little sister, stop waiting. This rain won’t stop for quite a while. Junsheng… tonight he will probably stay at the Han medical clinic. Shayun will take care of him, and perhaps she has even prepared dinner for him.”
Hearing this, Lalu’s brows furrowed slightly. She slowly turned around and asked in a questioning tone, “How do you know he will stay with Shayun?”
Kali shook his head and sighed, putting down his chopsticks. “It’s not that I know. It’s that I understand Shayun. Her thoughts have never been as simple as you think.”
Lalu remained silent for a while, then walked back to the table and quietly sat down. She picked up her bowl and chopsticks, but only stirred the bean rice in her bowl.
Seeing this, Kali handed her a piece of meat, his tone becoming gentler. “Don’t think too much. You’ve been tired all day as well. Eat something hot first to warm your stomach.”
Daliguan smiled and tried to smooth things over. “Our Lalu, when she waits for someone, she is always this affectionate. Come, drink some soup to warm yourself. The wild boar stew is just right.”
A faint smile appeared at the corner of Kali’s mouth, but the hidden sorrow in his eyes could not be concealed.
Meanwhile, in the dining room of Dabanya’s house, the atmosphere was also tinged with damp worry.
Inside the house, a dim yellow oil lamp swayed with light and shadow, illuminating several plates of hot dishes on the bamboo-woven table and a large pot of wild vegetable chicken soup steaming with white vapor. In the corner of the wall hung a cloak that had just been changed out of; drops of water dripped onto the floor and gathered into a small puddle.
Dabanya came out of the kitchen carrying a pot of hot soup and placed it on the table. Her fingers were slightly red from the cold, yet she did not forget to wipe the sweat from her forehead.
Li Qinghua sat by the table, flipping through a deerskin notebook. Hearing the thunder rumbling outside, he could not hide the unease in his heart. “Shayun hasn’t come back yet… could it be that she has been trapped by this rain?”
Dabanya lifted the lid of the pot. Steam rushed up to her face. She coughed once and said as she sat down, “With the rain falling like this, the mountain path will be slippery. It may not be safe for her to walk back. I’m worried that tonight… she may not come back.”
Li Qinghua immediately closed the deerskin notebook and stood up, walking a few steps toward the doorway as if making up his mind about something. “I’ll go pick her up once the rain gets a little lighter. Once it gets dark, the mountain path will be even harder to walk.”
Dabanya gently pulled his sleeve, her tone gentle. “Qinghua, let’s watch for a while longer. She is someone who knows her limits. If she truly cannot return, she will certainly stay overnight at the Han medical clinic. You are worrying too much.”
Li Qinghua looked at the misty curtain of rain outside the door, took a deep breath, and finally nodded. Returning to sit by the table, he said, “Alright. Let’s eat something first, and then we’ll decide later.”
Dabanya ladled a bowl of soup for him and said softly, “It’s so cold today. Warm yourself first. Don’t let our daughter know that you’re already ill yet still worrying about her.”
Li Qinghua looked up at her. A trace of gratitude appeared in his eyes, and a faint smile curved at the corner of his mouth. “You always understand me so well…”
Their conversation temporarily fell silent amid the steaming heat of the soup, while outside, the rain still showed no sign of stopping.

Chapter 6 – Shayun Carefully Tends to Junsheng’s Health
26
The air in the early morning was slightly cool. Under the gray and hazy sky, the fine rain had still not stopped. Dalay carried a bag of steaming hot food and hurried along the small path leading to the Han medical clinic. The leaves by the roadside were soaked from last night’s torrential rain and swayed gently in the wind, making rustling sounds. In the distance, the outlines of the mountains could be faintly seen, while the hazy mist obscured everything like a gray canvas.
When Dalay reached the front of the clinic, he gently knocked on the door. The door panel made a light sound. Hearing the noise, Shayun rubbed her eyes and slowly propped herself up, her gaze still carrying the confusion of not yet being fully awake. Her hair was scattered messily across the pillow, and the thin blanket on her body had slipped down, revealing a corner of her shoulder. Her fair skin appeared unusually soft under the dim light.
Outside the door, Dalay frowned slightly. He pushed the door open and walked in. His gaze involuntarily fell upon Shayun, and then suddenly swept across Junsheng, who was still sleeping on the bed. The embarrassment on his face could not be concealed. His heartbeat quickened somewhat, and he deliberately lowered his head as he handed the bag to Shayun.
Dalay spoke somewhat awkwardly: “Sis, you…”
Shayun quickly put on her upper garment, her movements somewhat hurried, as if she wanted to cover up something. She gently shook her head and said in a low voice, “Shh, the doctor is sick. Let him rest well. Go wait for me in the consultation room for a moment.” She turned toward the bed and quietly prepared to tuck Junsheng in properly.
Seeing this, Dalay immediately and tactfully turned around and left. His steps were brisk as he walked toward the consultation room, though a trace of worry had unconsciously appeared on his face.
After putting on her clothes, Shayun turned around and wanted to tidy up the messy bed. Outside the window, among the banana trees, Lalu quietly appeared. Her figure could be faintly seen standing among the dense green leaves, silently witnessing the scene that had just occurred. She tightly gripped the basket in her hand, and her fingertips gradually turned pale. Her eyes were fixed upon Junsheng sleeping quietly on the bed, and her eyes gradually became moist as tears welled up within them. She gently lowered her head, placed the basket beside the window, then turned around and left the clinic with heavy steps.
Shayun came to the consultation room and gently pushed the door open. She saw Dalay standing beside the table, lowering his head to look at the medicine bottle in his hand. She lightly brushed her long black hair, and her voice was gentle yet carried a trace of fatigue. “I’m fine, Dalay.”
Dalay raised his head. Seeing the slight fatigue in Shayun’s eyes, his brows knit slightly, though a concerned smile still appeared at the corner of his mouth. “Sis, the rain was pouring heavily last night. Sena was worried about you and asked me to come check whether you were alright.”
Shayun gently shook her head, her tone somewhat helpless. “I’m really fine. Don’t worry about me.”
Dalay looked at her, and there was a moment of silence in his eyes. Afterwards he said softly, “But you still look somewhat tired. Yesterday’s rain and so many patients—I’m worried you’re overly exhausted.”
Shayun smiled faintly and said nothing more. She turned toward the medicine cabinet and began preparing the daily medical supplies, her figure faintly set against the background of the dim yellow light.
Outside the window, Lalu had still not gone far. Standing among the banana trees beneath the steps, she looked toward that window. The emotions in her eyes were complicated, like green leaves soaked by rainwater, drooping weakly. She pressed her lips together, and her fingers once again tightly gripped the edge of the basket, as if trying to use that strength to suppress the surging emotions within her heart.
When she saw Shayun enter the consultation room, the tears in her heart finally rolled down uncontrollably. She turned around and disappeared into the small alley filled with misty rain.
________________________________________
27
Lalu hurried back home. Her soaked hair was drenched by the rain, and the sound of dripping water echoed inside the quiet house. She pushed open the door and saw Kali sitting beside the wooden table in the living room, flipping through an ancient book. Her steps suddenly stopped, and tears burst out in an instant, like a river breaking through its banks, impossible to restrain.
Kali looked up and saw Lalu’s appearance. He immediately stood up, his eyes filled with concern and urgency. “Little sister, what’s wrong with you? Who bullied you?” He quickly walked toward her and reached out his hand, wanting to grab her shoulders.
Lalu’s hands trembled as she choked out through sobs, “Shayun… Shayun and Junsheng were sleeping together without clothes on. They… they were sleeping together!” She was almost sobbing in a low voice, and her tone revealed an indescribable pain and loss.
Kali’s expression instantly changed. He angrily raised his chin, and blazing fury ignited in his eyes. “This—this is outrageous! We must ask Sama to step forward and let the chief give an explanation!” Before he finished speaking, he had already begun pacing back and forth inside the room, appearing extremely agitated.
At this moment, Daliguan in the bedroom heard the conversation between the siblings and walked out with a heavy heart. His figure appeared especially tall under the lamplight, and his steady temperament unconsciously made people slow their breathing. Daliguan gently pushed open the wooden door and walked into the living room. His tone was calm yet measured. “You two siblings should not be so rash. According to the marriage customs of our Siraya people, the woman originally has the initiative in choosing a spouse. Shayun’s action is actually recognized.” His gaze looked gently at Kali, yet there was also a faint trace of helplessness in his eyes.
Hearing these words, the anger in Kali’s heart did not subside. Instead, it surged even more strongly. He quickly walked to stand before Daliguan and almost gritted his teeth as he said, “But Shayun will become the heir to the chieftain in the future, and Junsheng is only an outsider. This concerns Shayun’s reputation and how the tribespeople view her. Sama, you must step forward and seek an explanation from the chief!”
Daliguan looked at him unhurriedly and reached out to pat Kali on the shoulder. His voice remained calm yet carried a deep meaning. “The problem lies exactly here. If Junsheng decides to marry into the chieftain’s family, then even I would have no say in the matter.” His tone was steady, as if stating a fact that could not be changed.
Kali felt a heaviness surge within his heart. His brows were tightly furrowed, and his voice was filled with anxiety. “But we cannot just let Junsheng take advantage of Shayun and then simply pat his backside and leave, can we? How could that be acceptable?”
Daliguan gently shook his head. After taking a deep breath, his tone became softer. “Calm yourselves for the moment. I will go to the chief’s house again to inquire about the attitude and method of handling this matter from Dabanya and her husband.” His voice was low and measured, telling Kali that this matter could not be resolved in an instant.
Kali and Lalu exchanged a glance. Both of them were filled with unease and apprehension. Lalu’s eyes were still slightly red and swollen. She lowered her head and silently wiped away the tear marks on her face. Kali clenched his fingers into fists, and a trace of sorrow and anxiety flickered faintly in his eyes.
At this moment, the air in the living room seemed to become even heavier. Outside, the wind and rain had still not ceased. Inside the house, the weak kerosene lamplight trembled in the darkness.
This storm was not only the weather—it was also the anxiety and fear gradually spreading within their hearts.
28
Dalai returned home. The rain was still dripping outside the house, and the night was hazy. He walked into the wooden hut; the inside of the house was filled with the fragrance of earth and straw. He casually took off his shoes and lightly stepped across the damp wooden floor, walking toward the corner. Immediately afterward, he called in a low voice:
“Sena, come here for a moment.”
Dabongya was lowering her head under the flickering candlelight repairing a piece of handicraft work. Hearing the voice, she raised her head, her brows slightly furrowing.
“Dalai, what’s wrong?”
Dalai looked around. After confirming that there was no one else, he quickly walked to her side. His tone was hurried and low:
“Sena, just now I delivered breakfast to the Han medical clinic, and I saw…”
He leaned close to his mother’s ear and softly said a few sentences, a trace of anxiety revealing itself in his tone.
Upon hearing it, Dabongya’s face immediately became solemn. She placed the needle and thread in her hand on the table, her expression heavy.
“How could such a thing happen? That child Sayun—what exactly is she thinking in her heart?”
She used her hand to rub her forehead, appearing somewhat restless.
Dalai lowered his head, his hands unconsciously clenching tightly.
“Sis said the doctor was sick. I saw the doctor’s face pale, lying on the bed with his eyes closed…”
Dabongya was full of worry. She stood up and paced back and forth, her footsteps making “creak, creak” sounds on the wooden floor.
“If this matter spreads out, it will become troublesome… No, I must personally find that doctor and ask him face to face.”
She suddenly stopped walking and stared at Dalai.
“Dalai, go to the clinic and have the two of them come back together. Tell them that I want to question them face to face.”
Dalai raised his head and looked at his mother. There was a trace of helplessness in his eyes. He slightly stepped back, his hands unconsciously bracing at his waist. His tone revealed hesitation:
“Sena, elder sister will be angry with me. I don’t dare to go…”
Dabongya’s tone became cold and firm, carrying the tone of an order:
“If I tell you to go, then hurry up and go!”
Dalai gritted his teeth and slightly lowered his head, replying in a small voice:
“Alright! I’ll go right away.”
He gently turned around, passed through the wooden door, and walked down the bamboo ladder. The bamboo made “rustling” sounds in the light breeze. As he walked, he suppressed the uneasiness in his heart.
Just as he reached the wooden gate, he encountered Li Qinghua. They almost brushed past each other. Li Qinghua stopped and frowned at him, his tone carrying a trace of puzzlement:
“Dalai, why are you so flustered? Where are you going?”
Dalai did not respond and hurried away like the wind, leaving Li Qinghua standing where he was, his brows deeply furrowed.
After a brief hesitation, Li Qinghua climbed up the bamboo ladder and walked into the house. Inside the house, Dabongya was standing beside the wooden table, fiercely smoking a stalk pipe, her expression tense. Her fingers unconsciously tightened their grip; amid the swirling smoke she appeared especially anxious.
Seeing this, Li Qinghua walked over with heavy steps, his tone carrying concern and confusion:
“What has happened, madam?”
Dabongya gently exhaled a puff of smoke and weakly lowered her eyes, revealing a bitter smile.
“Your precious daughter Sayun, and that foreign doctor…”
Her tone was low, and between her words were full of helplessness and frustration.
Li Qinghua’s brows furrowed, and a trace of shock flashed in his eyes. He stood there for a long time without speaking, quietly listening to Dabongya’s brief description. After she finished speaking, his expression became even more solemn.
“Since matters have reached this point, we must ask that doctor face to face and make things clear. If he does not wish to shoulder responsibility, he must immediately leave Chikan.”
At that very moment, the bamboo chimes outside rang, and the sound of footsteps came from the doorway. Li Qinghua stretched his neck to look. He saw the figure of Dali-guan appear at the wooden gate, the bamboo chimes ringing crisply in the night.
Li Qinghua’s face immediately changed, and his tone sank.
“This is bad. Dali-guan has come. Perhaps he already knows about this matter and has come to demand an explanation.”
Dabongya anxiously turned toward Li Qinghua, uneasiness revealing itself in her eyes.
“Then what should we do?”
Li Qinghua took a deep breath. He concealed the anxiety on his face, his tone remaining calm.
“Don’t panic first. Let’s deal with it calmly.”
Dali-guan walked up the bamboo ladder. His steady footsteps were out of place with the atmosphere inside the wooden house. He entered the house and glanced around. Seeing Dabongya and Li Qinghua sitting there with tense expressions, he immediately guessed the strangeness of the matter.
Dali-guan silently took out a stalk pipe. After lighting it, he leisurely took two puffs. The smoke swirled around his face, forming a hazy glow. Then he spoke in a deep voice:
“Chief, you should know my purpose for coming.”
Dabongya and Li Qinghua exchanged a glance, their hearts uneasy. Li Qinghua cautiously spoke:
“We husband and wife have just heard about it from our youngest son Dalai.”
A trace of concern unconsciously appeared in his tone.
Dali-guan spoke steadily, deliberately mysterious:
“I came here alone because I do not wish for this matter to spread out.”
His eyes were like sharp blades, his gaze deep.
Li Qinghua gave a slight bitter smile. Dabongya continued smoking the stalk pipe, pretending to be calm, but the anxiety in her heart had already quietly revealed itself.
Dali-guan gently took two more puffs, and his tone became calm again.
“Since the matter has already happened, there must be a solution. Chief, how do the two of you intend to handle it?”
Dabongya came back to her senses, her gaze firm.
“I have already sent my son to the Han medical clinic to call Junsheng and Sayun back.”
Dali-guan nodded, a trace of approval showing in his eyes.
“This concerns Sayun’s reputation. I believe that you elders will properly resolve it.”
Li Qinghua spoke cautiously:
“We will follow our tribal rules and ancestral law—whatever the proper procedure is, we will follow it.”
Dali-guan nodded with satisfaction.
“Very good. Chief and madam are both reasonable people. I believe you will face this matter seriously. I will take my leave now and will not disturb the chief’s rest.”
After saying this, he stood up, waved the pipe stem in his hand, turned around, and went downstairs to leave.
________________________________________
29
Inside the living room of Chief Dabongya’s residence, candlelight illuminated the surface of the ancient wooden furniture. The air was filled with a mixed fragrance and a faint smell of wood. Outside it was already evening; the afterglow of the slanting sun could still be seen in the distant sky. The wind outside the window blew gently, occasionally bringing the rustling sound from the bamboo grove.
The atmosphere in the living room was rather heavy. Dabongya and Li Qinghua sat on opposite sides of the long table, while Junsheng sat across from them. His expression appeared nervous, and his eyes did not dare to meet those of the two elders.
Dabongya sat upright in her chair, her brows tightly furrowed, her tone stern.
“For something like this to happen, we are also in a difficult position. Although I do not dare to force you to stay, it concerns Sayun’s reputation…”
Her gaze was as sharp as a blade as it rested on Junsheng, and the pressure in her words made the air seem even heavier.
Sayun lowered her head, her gentle gaze turning toward Junsheng, a trace of helplessness flashing in her eyes. She gently held Junsheng’s hand, her tone carrying both pleading and determination.
“Sena, Junsheng has been infected with a cold-fever illness. I stayed to take care of him. Truly, Junsheng and I have not done anything improper. You do not need to put him in a difficult position.”
Her voice was like the breeze of the night, soft and slightly trembling, yet firm in her heart.
Junsheng remained silent for a moment, then lowered his head. In his eyes were sincere emotions. He took a deep breath, moved his gaze away from Sayun’s face, and looked toward Dabongya and Li Qinghua.
“I can understand the chief’s concerns, truly.”
His tone was earnest. As he spoke, he leaned slightly forward, his eyes firm.
“I do not wish for Sayun to be looked at by the tribe with strange eyes, nor for her to be harmed. I am willing to take responsibility for Sayun.”
He paused slightly, then his gaze fell again upon Sayun, and his tone became stronger.
“And moreover, after spending this period of time together, I truly like Sayun. I want to give her happiness and give her joy.”
After hearing this, a glimmer of tears flashed in Sayun’s eyes. Her heart beat faster, and she gripped Junsheng’s hand more tightly.
“Junsheng…”
She murmured softly, her emotions stirred, even somewhat choking with emotion. Her gaze moved between Dabongya and Li Qinghua, her eyes full of gratitude.
Seeing this scene, Li Qinghua nodded slightly, and a relieved smile appeared on his face. He put down the teacup in his hand, gently wiped the droplets of water from his fingertips, and then raised his head, his gaze gentle.
“You are a reasonable person.”
His tone was warm and profound, carrying the kindness of an elder.
“Your decision makes this matter become simple. After your illness becomes stable, we will begin preparing for the wedding of the two of you.”
His tone was like a warm spring breeze, conveying peace and support.
Dabongya’s gaze also softened at this moment. She slowly stood up, walked to the table, and handed a cup of tea to Junsheng. Her voice remained steady but carried a trace of relief.
“Since you both have such determination, I am also reassured.”
A trace of heavy pressure in her tone seemed to loosen with these words. Her hands trembled slightly, yet a faint smile had already appeared on her face.
Junsheng took the teacup and lowered his head in thanks. His eyes were full of gratitude and determination. He gently set down the cup and looked directly at Dabongya and Li Qinghua, the feeling of gratitude fully revealed.
“Thank you for your understanding. I will take good care of Sayun and will also take responsibility for her.”
The atmosphere inside the house gradually relaxed. The once heavy mood dissolved for the most part with these words. Outside the window the night also gradually became calm. A gentle wind passed through the bamboo grove, as if carrying the breath of a new life.
________________________________________
30
The atmosphere in Kali’s house was especially heavy. The sky had already grown late. The faint moonlight outside shone into the room through the window, falling upon the gray walls and forming long shadows. The house was so quiet that only the sound of the wind could be heard. The air felt somewhat thick, making people feel oppressed.
Lalu stood beside the wooden table, both hands tightly clenched, her fingertips pale. Her voice was agitated and helpless, echoing in the empty house.
“Brother, look! Now the false has turned into reality—Junsheng has decided to stay and marry into Sayun’s family!”
Her tone was full of unwillingness and anger. Her gaze looked straight at Kali, injustice flashing in her eyes.
Kali stood beside the window with his back toward Lalu. Both hands were placed at his waist, his shoulders slightly drooping, as if feeling the pressure of the heavy atmosphere in the house. He closed his eyes for a moment before turning around. His tone was filled with regret and helplessness.
“Sis, I also did not want things to develop into this…”
His voice was heavy, carrying guilt that could not be dispelled.
At that moment, Dali-guan walked out from the corner. He gently patted Lalu’s shoulder. His movements were not hurried, as if all of this had long been foreseen.
“Do not blame your brother. This was originally a risky move.”
His tone was calm, yet his eyes carried a thoughtful light.
“Junsheng agreeing to stay—according to my view, he should like Sayun. Otherwise he could simply have left.”
Dali-guan’s tone was filled with the wisdom of years. His eyes were as deep as an old tree that had experienced countless storms, able to see through many things that had not been spoken.
Lalu’s eyes reddened. Her hand trembled unconsciously. She lowered her head, her tone somewhat sorrowful.
“Then what about me? Should I silently bless them to become husband and wife?”
Her voice was weak and broken, as if the unwillingness in her heart had already drowned all her emotions.
Seeing his sister like this, Kali frowned and let out a deep sigh. He stepped forward, gently grasped Lalu’s shoulders, and gave her a comforting embrace.
“Sis, losing the Sayun I love—my feelings are no easier than yours…”
His tone carried helpless tenderness, yet his eyes faintly held pain and struggle.
Dali-guan stood to the side watching the intertwined emotions of the two siblings. He gently swung the bamboo staff in his hand, his tone carrying a trace of consolation.
“The Han people say: ‘If the green hills remain, there will be no shortage of firewood.’ You siblings are still young. There will be other partners to find. There is no need to speak such discouraging words.”
He slowly walked to the stove, took a bundle of dry wood, and gently placed it into the fire. The firelight shone upon his face, making him appear even more steady and powerful.
After hearing this, Lalu slowly raised her head. Her gaze was somewhat confused, but Dali-guan’s words seemed to ease her emotions slightly. She remained silent for a moment and took a deep breath.
“Perhaps…”
she responded softly. However, the sense of loss and helplessness in her tone was still difficult to conceal.
Kali released Lalu’s shoulders and gently patted her back with both hands. His tone softened somewhat.
“Don’t think about those unhappy things anymore. Sayun’s choice is hers. We should also look forward.”
Seeing the two of them calm down somewhat, Dali-guan nodded slightly, a trace of relief appearing in his eyes.
“Good. As long as you understand in your hearts.”
As he stood up preparing to leave, he gently patted Kali’s back.
“As the elder brother, being able to make your younger sister feel at ease is the most important.”
After saying this, he walked toward the door. The bamboo staff lightly struck the floor, and the sound it made was like a heavy stone falling, causing the atmosphere inside the house to become heavy once again.

Chapter 7
The Wedding of Junsheng and Sayun
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31
Inside the clinic of the Han Medical Institute in Chikan Community, white light slanted in from outside the window, illuminating the slightly yellow wooden floor of the early morning. The room was filled with the smell of aged herbal medicine; this smell made people feel both rustic and somewhat heavy. As the last patient walked out the door, the courtyard suddenly became quiet, with only the light breeze outside brushing against the bamboo beams, making rustling sounds. Junsheng finished organizing the instruments in the clinic and sat beside the table, looking at the neatly stacked pile of herbs in front of him.
Sayun pushed open the door, holding in her hands a plate of freshly washed fruit, inside which were bright bayberries, oranges, and red grapes. She gently walked over, her footsteps soft, as if she did not want to disturb this silence. She placed the fruit in front of Junsheng, smiled slightly, and spoke in a tone carrying gentle concern:
“Eat some fruit, alright? I was afraid you might get tired of eating the medicinal stewed venison.”
Junsheng slightly raised his head, his eyes smiling as he accepted the fruit, feeling Sayun’s delicate care. He gently put down the prescription in his hand and reached out to take the refreshing plate of fruit.
“It’s alright. The taste of Han medicine feels refreshing and comfortable.”
A faint smile appeared at the corner of his mouth, and his eyes carried gratitude.
Sayun sat upright across from him, her gaze gently watching him as she softly replied:
“I personally selected those medicinal ingredients in the harbor market. Don’t underestimate Han medicine—when it comes to nourishing and maintaining health, the methods of regulation in Han medicine are all supported by evidence.”
There was a trace of pride in her tone, but even more was respect for traditional medicine.
Junsheng smiled and nodded slightly.
“Of course I have some understanding of that. Han medicine and modern Western medicine each have their own strengths.”
He paused for a moment, and his gaze unconsciously softened somewhat. His tone was filled with understanding and respect.
Sayun lowered her head and looked at the fruit on the table, as if organizing her thoughts. After a while, she raised her head. Her gaze was somewhat hesitant, carrying somewhat complex emotions.
“Junsheng, yesterday at my home, when my sena forced you to make a decision, actually my feelings at that time were quite conflicted. On one hand, I did not want you to be in such an embarrassing situation; on the other hand, I was worried that you might really leave Chikan…”
Her voice trembled slightly as she recalled that moment of struggle.
Junsheng sensed the uneasiness in her tone, and his heart stirred. He reached out and gently grasped her wrist, pulling her gently into his embrace and letting her lean against his shoulder. Sayun was slightly surprised, then relaxed, her cheek lightly resting against his chest.
Junsheng said in a low voice:
“Humans are not plants or trees—how could we be without feeling or emotion? Although that night I was sick and muddle-headed, when your body pressed close to mine to keep me warm, I completely understood your feelings for me.”
He raised his hand and gently stroked her hair, his tone low and affectionate.
“Since you were not worried about the possible consequences, how could I leave you behind?”
Upon hearing this, Sayun’s heart trembled. She lifted her head and looked at Junsheng, her eyes moist, carrying a deep gaze full of affection. She slightly parted her lips, wanting to say something but unable to speak. In the end she only softly uttered one word:
“Junsheng…”
Junsheng gazed deeply into her eyes. His tone was firm yet gentle.
“To be able to become husband and wife with you is something I truly cherish, Sayun.”
He lowered his head and gently placed a kiss on her forehead. That kiss carried deep emotion, as if he wished to convey all of his thoughts to her.
Feeling that warmth, Sayun’s cheeks flushed slightly, and her heart softened. She gently closed her eyes, feeling the calm and comfort of that moment. The two quietly leaned against each other like this, and the air around them also became warmer. Time seemed to stop flowing in that moment.
________________________________________
32
On the square in front of the assembly hall of Chikan Community, night gradually descended, and starlight and lamplight intertwined to form a warm scene. The entire square was decorated with lanterns and ornaments. Colorful lights swayed gently in the breeze, illuminating the surrounding bamboo beams and earthen walls. The atmosphere was both lively and carried a hint of mysterious festivity.
Colorful flower petals were spread across the ground. Wooden benches formed a circle around the area, and villagers gathered there, awaiting tonight’s wedding.
Dabongya stood beside Sayun, carefully arranging her headdress, her fingers gently adjusting each ornament in her hair. A warm smile was on her face.
Ali was busy helping Junsheng hang up the bamboo carrying chair. That simple chair seemed somewhat old, yet at this moment it appeared especially important, symbolizing the new life that was about to begin.
The villagers around them began whispering, their eyes filled with curiosity and blessings.
Not far away, Kali stood alone in a corner of the square, holding a bamboo tube. His lips were tightly pressed together, and occasionally he lowered his head to drink a mouthful of dull wine. Whenever he raised his head, his gaze would unconsciously turn toward Sayun and Junsheng in the center of the square.
Watching their smiles, a faint trace of gloom flashed in Kali’s eyes. He slightly furrowed his brows, seemingly dissatisfied with such a situation.
As the ceremony proceeded, Dabongya held Sayun’s hand and slowly walked toward Junsheng. Her steps were steady and calm, as if offering her daughter a final blessing.
When she placed Sayun’s hand into Junsheng’s, her eyes were filled with deep affection and expectation.
Junsheng gently held Sayun’s hand. His eyes were full of tenderness. He lowered his head and gave Sayun a slight smile. In that smile seemed to be hidden countless emotions and promises for the future.
At that moment, the master of ceremonies of the evening—Elder Bawu—wearing traditional ceremonial clothing, walked to the raw-wood platform in the center of the square. He raised the wooden staff in his hand, signaling everyone to be quiet.
Then he spoke in a steady voice:
“Brothers, sisters, elders, and villagers. The wedding taking place tonight—the bride is the daughter of Chief Dabongya, a Han medical practitioner skilled in herbal medicine. The groom is Doctor Junsheng, who is stationed in our community to provide medical treatment. He comes from the West.
The two of them share the same interests and specialties. By becoming husband and wife, they will support one another in the future and bring benefit to the villagers.
Tonight, let us together offer our blessings to this newly married couple and share in their joy…”
As Elder Bawu finished speaking, the villagers around them erupted into enthusiastic applause.
Junsheng smiled and gently lifted Sayun onto his back, carrying her as he walked around the square once. The hem of Sayun’s dress fluttered in the air, and her headdress sparkled under the lights. As they walked together, the villagers picked up flower petals from their hands and scattered them over the couple.
The petals fell like a rainbow, creating a beautiful and dreamlike atmosphere.
At this moment, everyone in the square witnessed this couple—this couple carrying hope and blessings upon them—stepping into the hall of marriage.
Kali stood in a distant corner, silently watching their backs. The bamboo tube in his hand gently swayed along with his slightly trembling fingers. The bitterness of alcohol seeped into his throat, yet it could not suppress the pain in his heart.
Every time he saw Sayun together with Junsheng, his heart felt as if something were fiercely gripping it, leaving him unable to breathe.
At the same time, Lalu leaned against the bamboo window at home. Her hands gently touched the window frame, and her eyes looked through the gap in the window toward the direction of the square.
The noisy sounds from the square drifted through the window. The rhythm of gongs and drums and the melodious bamboo flute echoed in her ears.
Lalu’s gaze was dim and lifeless, and tears filled her eyes, flowing silently. Her emotions were struggling and conflicted. The uncontrollable feelings surged into her heart like ocean waves, yet there was nowhere to release them.
She lowered her head and gently wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes. Her gaze once again turned toward the prosperous celebration, silently asking herself in her heart:
How should such emotions be released?

33
In the faint light of early morning, in front of the Han Medical Institute of Chikan Community, the creaking sound of an ox cart could be heard.
Ali led a sturdy black old ox, which slowly walked forward, its hooves echoing on the stone road. The air carried a faint scent of damp soil, and the leaves of distant trees gently swayed as the breeze brought a strand of fresh air.
Ali rolled up his sleeves, revealing strong arms, and walked to the back of the ox cart, beginning to move wooden boxes and bamboo baskets. His movements were skilled and quick. Dalai also joined in to help, and the two worked together in silent coordination to load the items onto the cart.
The wheels of the ox cart made a faint grinding sound against the ground, and as they worked, the cart gradually filled with luggage and medicinal materials.
Not far away beneath the shade of a tree, Kali, dressed in simple clothing, stood quietly watching everything. His hands were in his pockets, and his eyes were filled with complex emotions.
Whenever his gaze fell upon Sayun and Junsheng, the corner of his mouth unconsciously tightened, and a trace of helplessness faintly flashed in his eyes.
Dabongya walked to Sayun’s side and gently held her hand. On her face was the loving admonition of a mother.
“Sayun, this trip that you and Junsheng are taking to practice medicine is an act of accumulating virtue and doing good. As husband and wife, you must support each other. Junsheng has a good temper, but you cannot expect him to accommodate you in everything.”
Sayun lowered her head and smiled slightly. Then she lifted her head and looked into her mother’s eyes, speaking seriously:
“I know, sena. I will treat Junsheng well.”
Li Qinghua stood beside them and added in a gentle tone:
“Your sena is right. As husband and wife, everything should be discussed together. You cannot rely on one side alone or simply give in to the other.”
Dabongya looked at Sayun with eyes filled with a mother’s worried love.
“Before, when I wanted you to stay at home and properly learn cooking and sewing from me, you always said you were not interested in those things. In life there is nothing very significant—nothing more than food and clothing. Now you have suddenly formed a family, and I worry that you know nothing, and Junsheng will inevitably have to suffer along with you.”
Sayun could not help but laugh mischievously. She held her mother’s face and said playfully:
“Sena, Junsheng has only just become your son-in-law, and you are already worrying that I cannot take good care of him?”
Dabongya raised her eyebrows slightly, her eyes carrying a hint of helplessness.
“No one knows a daughter better than her mother. Of course sena has to worry! With your careless personality, if Junsheng does not mind you, I would find it unbelievable.”
Sayun puffed up her cheeks and gently twisted her waist, asking somewhat coquettishly:
“The food I cook doesn’t seem that terrible, right? Dalai, don’t you think so?”
Dalai could not help but laugh. He patted the bamboo basket in his hand and answered with a deliberately serious tone:
“Yes! But honestly, it really isn’t very tasty…”
There was a trace of mischief in his eyes, and such a tone instantly made the atmosphere much more relaxed.
Sayun immediately placed her hands on her hips and glared at Dalai, pretending to be angry.
“Dalai!”
Dalai spread his hands, wearing an innocent expression.
“Sis, you were the one who asked me. I just told the truth!”
He pretended to be naïve, but the smile at the corner of his eyes betrayed him.
Ali walked over and patted Sayun’s shoulder, reminding her:
“Alright, Sayun. Everything has been loaded onto the ox cart. We should set off now.”
There was a trace of impatience in his tone, clearly eager to depart.
Sayun turned around and hugged each member of her family one by one. There was a smile on her face, yet a faint reluctance could be seen.
She gently hugged her mother and whispered:
“Sena, I will take care of myself. Don’t worry.”
Then she said farewell to Li Qinghua and Dalai as well. Her eyes were full of gratitude and attachment.
Junsheng stood beside her, supporting her gently.
“Let’s go.”
He carefully helped her onto the ox cart, then sat beside her, gently holding her hand with a warm smile on his face.
At that moment, Ali pointed toward the shade of a tree not far away and softly reminded Junsheng:
“Junsheng, do you see? Kali has come to see you off.”
Junsheng turned his head to look and nodded slightly, revealing a meaningful smile.
“I noticed him earlier. But why doesn’t he come over?”
Ali shrugged and said helplessly:
“Maybe Kali just can’t bring himself to come over.”
Kali stood beneath the tree’s shade, his gaze fixed into the distance. Suddenly he raised his hand and waved toward the ox cart.
Junsheng and Sayun waved back in response, their eyes filled with gratitude and farewell.
Then Kali took out a horn and gently blew a series of notes of varying lengths. The sound waves spread with the wind, carrying deep blessings. Those notes rippled through the air, like blessings and like a farewell.
Ali turned around and explained to Junsheng with a smile:
“Kali says you should take care of yourselves and have a safe journey.”
Junsheng stood up, bowed deeply, and then shouted in a loud voice:
“Kali, thank you for your blessing!”
His tone carried sincerity and gratitude, like a warm current in the heart, warming everyone who heard it.
34
At dusk, the afterglow of the setting sun dyed the horizon red, and golden light spread across the land. The ox cart slowly drove into the citizens’ square of Xinkang Community. The trees along the road gently swayed in the breeze, making rustling sounds.
In the square, several colored lanterns were scattered as decorations, as if embracing the warmth of this land. The community members gathered around, supporting the elderly and bringing along the young. Their faces were filled with smiles of expectation and joy, and the air seemed full of enthusiasm and welcome.
Elisa and several elders stood in the center of the square, their expressions serious yet full of warmth. When the ox cart drove in, she walked forward briskly to greet them, smiling as she opened her arms and warmly embraced Junsheng.
“Doctor, you have come from afar. On behalf of the people of Xinkang Community, I welcome you.”
Her tone was friendly, yet carried a trace of respect.
Junsheng slightly bent his body and returned the embrace, feeling Elisa’s warmth. He responded sincerely:
“Chief, you and the people of your community have welcomed me with such a grand reception, which makes me feel that this journey carries great responsibility.”
He could not help raising his head to look at the enthusiastic crowd in the square, and a deep sense of responsibility arose in his heart.
Elisa smiled, released Junsheng, and said with a slightly teasing tone:
“It is only right. Doctor, while practicing medicine in Chikan Community, your superb medical skills have already spread widely, and you have even won the heart of a beautiful lady. It can truly be said that the reputation is well deserved!”
She gently patted Junsheng’s shoulder, and a playful light flashed in her eyes.
Beside her, the elder Luban smiled slightly and slowly stepped forward. His tone was steady and full of respect.
“Doctor is indeed a modest gentleman. Not only do you possess medical skill, but also medical virtue. Your coming to our Xinkang Community to treat patients is truly a blessing for our people.”
His tone revealed respect toward Junsheng.
Junsheng wore a humble smile on his face. Lowering his head slightly, he cupped his hands politely and said:
“Elder, you praise me too much. I merely do my best to serve everyone.”
He felt grateful in his heart, but also understood clearly that the responsibility of this trip was great.
Elisa nodded, then turned to a young man behind her and said with a smile:
“I have already ordered that a reception house be prepared for the three of you. Amanda will take care of your food and daily needs. If you have any requests, simply instruct him at any time and he will make arrangements.”
After speaking, she waved toward Amanda.
Amanda immediately stepped forward. His posture was upright and his expression friendly. He smiled and gave Junsheng a deep bow, speaking with humility and firmness:
“Doctor, Amanda is always ready to serve at your command.”
He extended his hand and shook hands with Junsheng, feeling the warmth and sincerity of the other’s palm.
Junsheng smiled slightly and grasped his hand, saying gratefully:
“Amanda, thank you.”
Amanda nodded, then pointed toward the reception house ahead and said kindly:
“From now on, the reception house will be your consultation place. Doctor, please follow me.”
As he spoke, he turned around and walked forward with an elegant pace.
Elisa immediately led Junsheng and the others to follow, guiding them toward the reception house in a relaxed yet orderly manner. Her steps were steady and strong. She turned back and smiled at the elders and community members behind them, as if conveying a silent encouragement and welcome.
The elders followed slowly, and the community members also stood up one after another, warmly seeing off this group of honored guests.
The breeze that came toward them carried the scent of soil and sea wind, making the entire community appear more lively and vibrant.
Junsheng followed Amanda along a small path. The flowers and plants on both sides swayed in the evening wind. The entire process felt like a warm and enthusiastic welcoming ceremony, making one inevitably feel the sincerity and enthusiasm of the people of Xinkang Community.
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35
Inside the hall of the reception house, sunlight streamed through the windows, and the gentle light shone upon the wooden floor, giving off a warm atmosphere. Several pots of fresh flowers were placed on the table, and the air was filled with the fragrance of freshly evaporated cooked rice and the freshness of plants.
Amanda and his younger sister Meifu each carried two bamboo baskets and walked into the hall. The baskets were filled with colorful fresh ingredients, giving off an enticing aroma.
Seeing the ingredients, Ali could not help swallowing and joked with a smile:
“Amanda, tonight I will have good fortune for my mouth.”
He stretched his neck to look at the bamboo baskets, and a trace of anticipation flashed in his eyes.
Amanda smiled in response, his fingers gently touching the edge of the bamboo basket as he answered casually:
“Ali, I brought my sister Meifu along. She is the culinary expert of our community!”
His tone was full of confidence, clearly trusting his sister’s cooking skills.
Meifu gently swung the bamboo basket and spoke with a smile:
“Brother Ali, my brother simply doesn’t want me to sit idle!”
Her tone carried a trace of playfulness, and her eyebrows curved into a beautiful arc.
Ali laughed loudly and lightly patted her shoulder.
“I had already heard about it. Your sister Meifu’s cooking skills are famous far and wide.”
He deliberately used an exaggerated tone, which made Meifu laugh as well.
Junsheng slightly raised his head and looked at the table full of ingredients, speaking calmly and sincerely:
“Ali, regarding food and drink, I have actually never been picky. Whether it is delicious or not seems to make little difference to me—you know that.”
His tone carried a trace of self-mockery, yet his eyes revealed gratitude for the enthusiasm at the moment.
Ali shook his head with a smile and deliberately stirred the conversation:
“Junsheng, if you say that, Sister-in-law Sayun will be angry.”
He raised his eyebrows, his tone slightly teasing.
Sayun heard this and smiled lightly, waving her hand.
“No, Ali. Regarding food and drink, I truly have never studied it carefully. Fortunately, Junsheng is very tolerant of me. I have never heard him complain.”
Her voice was gentle and calm. She seemed not to mind this matter much, yet her eyes revealed gratitude and tenderness toward Junsheng.
Amanda smiled slightly, his eyes full of curiosity.
“I heard that in Chikan Community, sister-in-law is quite a good female Han physician. This is probably called each person having their own preference, right?”
There was a trace of playfulness in his tone, yet it was clear that he held respect for Sayun’s identity and abilities.
Meifu smiled lightly and shook her head, indicating that she would no longer join the conversation.
“You all continue chatting. I will go to the kitchen to prepare dinner.”
Her tone was brisk, and she turned and walked toward the kitchen with light steps.
Ali quickly stood up and followed her toward the kitchen, joking as he said:
“I’ll help you, Meifu.”
As he spoke, he shook his head, appearing somewhat helpless.
Meifu turned her head back and laughed softly, her face filled with determination.
“You just bring the ingredients inside for me. I am used to cooking alone.”
Her tone was gentle, yet carried a sense of insistence. It was clear that she had her own way of cooking and did not allow others to interfere.
Ali shrugged helplessly, placed the bamboo baskets at the kitchen door, and turned back toward the living room, walking while giving a bitter smile.
“I was driven out by Meifu.”
Hearing this, Amanda laughed softly and spoke with a tone carrying gentleness and understanding.
“My sister’s temper is just like that. Don’t argue with her.”
She smiled and lightly patted Ali’s shoulder, and a trace of affection flashed in her eyes.
Sayun quietly watched the scene before her and softly said:
“Ali, while we still have some time before dinner, help me move the medicines and instruments down from the ox cart.”
Her tone was gentle, yet carried a firmness that did not allow refusal.
After hearing this, Ali immediately nodded.
“I understand, sister-in-law.”
He patted his chest with his hand, his tone carrying some confidence.
Seeing this, Amanda also followed along and said gently:
“I will help as well.”
His tone was relaxed, yet he appeared quite responsible.
Sayun smiled and nodded in thanks for their help, reminding them:
“Move carefully, so that the medicine bottles will not break.”
Her tone was calm, but her eyes never left those precious medicine bottles, showing particular caution.
Ali and Amanda glanced at each other, then carefully began moving the wooden boxes down from the ox cart. Every time they moved something, Sayun’s gaze followed closely behind, carefully observing each of their movements.
The wooden boxes were placed one after another into the corner of the living room. The floor echoed faintly with the soft sound of the boxes touching the ground.
Everything seemed unusually quiet. Only the sound of the wind lightly brushing the windows brought a trace of coolness.

Chapter Eight:
Junsheng Sets Out on a Circuit of Medical Visits to Various Villages
36
Sunlight filtered through the shadows of the trees outside the window, scattering mottled patterns across the courtyard. Through the gap of the door, one could hear the chirping of birds not far away. Along the corridor outside the consultation room, the villagers sat in a row, dressed in plain clothing, their faces revealing, more or less, a trace of anxiety and expectation. In their hands they held simple small bundles woven from straw rope; some lowered their heads to talk quietly, while others waited in silence. The air was filled with the fragrance of plants and the scent of medicinal herbs. Each time a name was called, one villager would stand up and slowly walk into the consultation room.
Amanda stood at the doorway of the consultation room, her tone gentle and clear as she called out in turn, “Uncle Dabis, it’s your turn.” Her voice carried a warm concern that made one feel a trace of reassurance upon hearing it.
Dabis slowly rose to his feet, his steps somewhat heavy, as if each movement of his body required effort to sustain. His back was slightly hunched, his beard already graying, and his face was etched with the marks of time. He first underwent pulse-taking by Shayun, and then was handed over to Junsheng for a follow-up examination and prescription.
Shayun extended both hands, her gaze soft, and gently asked, “Elder, where do you feel unwell?” Her tone was steady, like soothing a long-ailing relative.
Dabis slowly stroked his knee, a trace of unease appearing on his face, and replied in a low voice, “Whenever the weather changes recently, my knees and elbows ache. It is especially uncomfortable.” There was a hint of helplessness in his tone, as if no matter how he tried, he could not rid himself of this long-term torment.
Shayun nodded, her brows slightly furrowed, and responded professionally, “This should be joint inflammation caused by rheumatism. Let me take your pulse.” Her hand gently rested on Dabis’s wrist, carefully sensing every pulse beat.
Dabis had already placed his hand on the wooden table; both hands trembled slightly. He lowered his head to watch Shayun’s movements, appearing somewhat uneasy. Shayun observed attentively, slightly frowning, and softly asked, “How long have these symptoms lasted?” There was a trace of concern in her tone.
Dabis let out a soft sigh, his tone revealing a sense of weakness. “Two or three years. Recently the symptoms have become more obvious, and the pain is severe.” He stroked his knee with his hand, clearly weary of this chronic suffering.
Shayun gently pressed on his knee and asked, “When I press like this, do you feel soreness and pain?” Her movements were careful and precise; her fingers lightly touched Dabis’s knee joint, trying to locate the source of the pain.
Dabis frowned slightly; the sensation of pain made him shift his body a little. He responded, “Yes, the soreness here feels stronger.” His tone was full of helplessness, clearly accustomed to this pain that worsened with seasonal changes.
After hearing this, Shayun nodded and said, “Please let the doctor examine you again.” Her tone was calm, yet carried professional firmness.
Dabis stood up, his steps somewhat unsteady, but he still walked firmly toward Junsheng. After sitting down, his eyes closed slightly, as if he wanted to momentarily withdraw from the pain of his body.
Shayun turned back to Junsheng and said, “Rheumatoid arthritis, the course of the illness has already lasted two to three years.” Her tone was steady and confident, showing no doubt in Junsheng’s judgment.
Junsheng nodded, picked up the diagnostic tools in his hand, and said to Dabis, “All right. Elder, please extend your hand, I will examine you.” His tone was gentle, yet carried a focused expression.
Dabis complied and extended his hands, gently placing them on the wooden table, slightly trembling. Junsheng’s hands gently reached over, carefully examining Dabis’s elbows and knee joints, every movement cautious and meticulous.
After finishing the examination, Junsheng said softly, “Elder, your condition requires continuous treatment. I will prescribe some anti-inflammatory and analgesic medicine for you to take. This can relieve the pain and improve joint stiffness, but the medication cannot stop joint damage or slow the progression of the disease.” His tone revealed a trace of helplessness, clearly feeling powerless toward this illness.
After hearing this, a faint smile appeared on Dabis’s face, and he said with a tone of slight satisfaction, “As long as it can make my body feel more comfortable, I am already very satisfied.” His eyes revealed a hope for a simple life, as if relief from pain was already enough.
Junsheng smiled slightly and said, “Go sit outside and wait for a moment. Ali will give you the medicine package, and you should take it daily as instructed.” His tone was relaxed, as if trying to put Dabis at ease.
At this moment, Ali stood up, smiling as he walked toward Dabis, holding a packet of medicine in his hand. He said kindly, “Uncle Dabis, this is your medicine. Please remember to take it on time.” His tone was full of care and responsibility, and he skillfully handed the medicine packet to Dabis.
Dabis gratefully accepted the medicine, nodded, and said, “Thank you, thank you.” Though his words were simple, his eyes were filled with gratitude.
In the kitchen, Meifu was busy preparing lunch. She stood by the stove, her eyes focused as she turned the ingredients in the pot. Her practiced technique made every movement rhythmic. The aroma spread through the air, making one feel a sudden hunger.

37
In the small square in front of the reception house, the morning sunlight slanted across the ground, draping the entire space in a thin golden veil. In the distance, a few sparrows hopped on the electric wires, letting out crisp chirping sounds. Around the square, several old trees swayed in the wind, casting mottled shadows. The villagers gathered here, carrying a bit of dust on their bodies, yet each face revealed a look of satisfaction. The ox cart had already been parked nearby, ready to depart at any moment.
Junsheng and his group were about to leave Xingang Village. His gaze swept over the villagers surrounding him, his heart filled with reluctance to part. Chief Elisa led Lupan, Elder Abu, and the villagers as they walked slowly forward, each step carrying a steady strength, as if the earth beneath their feet responded in a low murmur.
Amanda stood in front of Junsheng, unable to hide her reluctance to part, and said gently, “Doctor, when you pass by here on your return journey, remember to stay here for a few days.” Her tone was like a breeze brushing over the water’s surface, gentle and clear.
Junsheng nodded lightly and replied, “I will.” There was also a trace of tenderness in his eyes, and his tone revealed sincere gratitude toward this land and its people.
Ali stood nearby, patted his belly, and with a slight upward curl of his lips, joked, “Amanda, your sister’s cooking makes me unwilling to leave this place.” He shook his head in feigned seriousness but could not help smiling, clearly unable to get enough of Meifu’s cooking.
A blush spread across Meifu’s face. She lowered her head, her hands lightly clasped in front of her, and replied shyly, “Then stay…” Her voice was soft, like a whisper in the breeze, making everyone present smile knowingly.
Amanda could not help laughing. She turned to Junsheng and teased, “My sister has fallen for you.” Her gaze was gentle, her lips curved upward, as if enjoying this relaxed moment.
Elisa stood nearby. Hearing this, she smiled lightly, then turned to Junsheng and said with a serious yet grateful tone, “Doctor, during these days, the villagers have received medical care from you and your wife. They truly hope that you can come often.” Her voice carried deep feeling; over these days, the villagers’ lives had gradually improved, and this sentiment was utterly sincere.
Junsheng nodded and replied with a smile, “I will come again on the return journey, Chief.” His tone was firm, and his eyes revealed a sense of commitment. This responsibility toward the villagers was deeply engraved in his heart.
At this moment, Dabis stepped forward, holding a package in his hands. His movements appeared somewhat clumsy, yet his eyes revealed deep respect and gratitude. “Doctor, I have prepared some dried venison for you to take on your journey. It is a small token, to express my feelings. Please accept it.” His tone was sincere; this package of dried venison was his most heartfelt blessing to Junsheng and his family.
Many villagers also stepped forward at this time, carrying packages of various sizes in their hands. Their faces were filled with warmth and expectation. Junsheng looked at Ali and Shayun beside him, his gaze full of gratitude and helplessness. These gifts carried too many emotions and stories.
Amanda stepped closer, her tone gentle yet firm. “Doctor, please accept them. This is a small token from the villagers.” She gently pushed Junsheng’s shoulder and smiled, indicating that he should not refuse.
Shayun also spoke softly beside him, “In both sentiment and reason, you should accept.” Her tone was not forceful, yet carried deep rational understanding.
Looking at the sincere faces before him, Junsheng finally smiled slightly and nodded. “All right.” He accepted the gifts, his heart filled with indescribable gratitude toward this land and these people.
Satisfied smiles appeared on the villagers’ faces. They began handing the gifts to Ali, who then loaded them onto the ox cart. The cart was piled with the villagers’ goodwill and blessings, and the wooden axle creaked softly, ready to set off.
Junsheng embraced Elisa and Amanda in farewell with reluctance. The surrounding villagers also waved to see them off. As Junsheng and Shayun stood on the ox cart and waved goodbye to the land they had once cared for, everyone raised their arms together, waving enthusiastically, their faces full of reluctance and blessings.
The ox cart slowly started moving, traveling along that familiar path, passing several clusters of trees, and gradually disappearing into the morning mist. The villagers remained standing in place, watching them depart, until the figure of the ox cart completely vanished from sight.
38
Inside the administrative office of Fort Provintia, dim light faintly illuminated the edges of an old wooden desk. The air carried a slight scent of ink and damp wood. Outside, the wind slipped through the cracks of the window, gently stirring the curtains and bringing a trace of coolness. The clerk Bosimen walked through the long corridor, his footsteps echoing across the empty stone floor, holding a sealed official document in his hand. He paused briefly outside the door, took a deep breath, and then knocked.
“Sir, the chief wants you to review the documents and reports and come up with a solution as soon as possible,” Bosimen said, his voice carrying a slight sense of urgency.
The tax officer Pias was sitting behind a large desk, his fingers lightly stroking the tax receipts on the table. Upon hearing the knock, he lifted his head, a trace of fatigue visible in his eyes. He took the documents handed over by Bosimen from the desk and opened them with a slight frown.
“The monthly export volume of deer hides is to be increased from the current five thousand to eight thousand?” Pias’s tone carried a hint of unease, his brows tightly furrowed, as if weighed down by this sudden order.
Bosimen nodded gently, his tone calm yet tinged with helplessness. “Yes, this is the intention of the finance officer. Due to the sharp increase in demand in the European market, foreign trading firms in the city—British, German, and French—have all raised their purchasing prices to compete for deer hides. The market is already experiencing a shortage of supply. The chief has approved this and insists that European demand must be met.”
Pias took a deep breath, the lines between his brows deepening further. He set the document down, remained silent for a moment, and then asked in a low voice, “Each month, the foreign trading firms in the city purchase two thousand hides, while the remaining three thousand are collected as taxes from each village according to the number of households. Does the chief mean… that I should raise taxes?” His tone revealed a trace of unease.
Bosimen nodded hesitantly, a flicker of confusion passing through his eyes. “That should be the case. Other than that, there seems to be no better solution.” He stood in front of the desk, slightly bending forward as he spoke in a low voice.
Pias rubbed his temples, lifted his head, and looked at Bosimen, his expression still grave, his lips twitching slightly. “Raising taxes is not difficult in itself. The problem is whether it will provoke strong resistance from the villages. As you know, the current taxation already places a considerable burden on the people. If it is increased further, I fear they may not be able to bear it.”
A trace of concern flashed in Bosimen’s eyes, and his tone grew heavier. “This is the chief’s decision. We have no choice but to carry it out. To be honest, I am also worried that once this tax increase order reaches the hands of the village chiefs, their reaction will be extremely intense.”
Pias clenched his fists, leaning slightly forward. His fingers unconsciously tapped against the desk, producing crisp sounds. “In that case, it will not only harm the people; we ourselves will not escape the consequences.” He looked deeply at Bosimen, the worry and helplessness in his eyes surging like a tide.
Bosimen let out a soft sigh, his tone carrying a hint of resignation. “I hope things will go smoothly this time. But as you know, executing such orders always feels heavy.” As he turned to leave, he looked back and added, “Sir, I will keep in close contact. If there are any changes, we can discuss countermeasures.”
Pias nodded, watching thoughtfully as Bosimen’s figure gradually disappeared beyond the door. He sat quietly at the desk, his mind filled with heavy thoughts, gazing out the window as if contemplating the choices that lay ahead.

39
In the residence of Chief Douning of Xiaolong Village, faint sunlight filtered through embroidered curtains into the room, illuminating the heavy wooden floor and aged furniture. Several traditional paintings hung on the walls, creating an atmosphere that was both rustic and oppressive. The air was filled with a faint scent of wood and herbs, interwoven with the damp sea breeze blowing in from outside. Douning sat beside a long table, her hands folded, her gaze fixed on the tax increase order handed to her by Bosimen. Her brows were tightly knit, and anger was clearly visible on her face.
Bosimen stood beside the table, his expression serious, his fingers lightly gripping the edge of his clothing as he waited for Douning’s reaction. After quickly scanning the document, her eyes immediately turned cold and sharp as she said in a low voice, “The tax officer raises taxes whenever he pleases, without even consulting us beforehand. Does he really think the people are living comfortably?”
Douning’s voice was like frost falling, carrying a clear note of reproach. Bosimen nodded slightly, his tone still firm. “I understand your difficulties, of course. But this is the chief’s decision. The tax officer is only carrying out orders.”
Douning stood up, somewhat agitated. Placing both hands on the table, she leaned slightly forward, a flash of anger in her eyes. “The tax officer is carrying out orders, but I, as the chief, must face the villagers. Moreover, after years of hunting, the number of wild deer has already sharply declined. Each household is required to submit one deer hide per month, and the burden is already suffocating the villagers.” Her tone intertwined helplessness and anger, like a volcano on the verge of eruption.
Bosimen lowered his gaze to the document on the table, his expression turning conflicted, as though unwilling to stand in opposition to Douning, yet fully aware of his own powerlessness. “How about this? You could invite the chiefs of all the villages to come here. I will ask Officer Pias to personally explain the situation to everyone.” His tone was low and cautious, his eyes revealing a faint hope of resolving the situation.
Douning remained silent for a moment, then nodded in agreement. The anger on her face eased slightly, though her dissatisfaction remained evident. “That would be best. I hope the tax officer will withdraw this order and not act so arbitrarily.” Her tone was firm, as if she had already decided on her next course of action.
Bosimen bowed to Douning and then slowly walked toward the door. Douning remained standing in place, watching his back until the door was gently closed. Only then did she turn around and walk heavily toward the living room.
As she entered the living room, her daughter Imena was sitting on the sofa, her eyes filled with concern. Seeing her mother’s grave expression, she immediately stood up and asked, “Sena, should I inform the elders to gather at the meeting hall?”
Douning shook her head, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly into a bitter smile. “This is a serious matter. Of course we must convene a meeting with the elders.” She paused for a moment, her tone growing heavy. “But the outcome is predictable. No one will be able to swallow this humiliation.”
Imena stepped closer to her mother, gently supporting her shoulders, her gaze filled with worry. “Then what should we do?”
Douning took a deep breath, crossing her arms over her chest, her gaze fixed on the gradually darkening sky outside the window. “Let us wait for the results of the meeting. This turmoil… I fear it cannot be calmed.” She said no more, as if all the answers were hidden within the storm that was about to arrive.
40
Inside the meeting hall of the Madou tribal assembly, the air was filled with the smell of damp wood and a heavy atmosphere. The building was constructed of rough stone bricks and dark red timber, and simple bamboo blinds hung over the windows, barely blocking the glaring sunlight outside. In the center of the hall stood a long round table, upon which were piled documents and maps. The dim yellow lighting cast its glow upon each elder’s face, making them appear even more burdened and anxious. Chief Maya sat in the main seat, her expression solemn. The elders around her showed varied expressions—some with tightly furrowed brows, others tapping their fingers on the tabletop—the atmosphere tense and restless.
Walami suddenly slammed the table. The official document in his hand was spread open as he pointed at the lines of text upon it, his tone full of indignation: “These red-haired foreigners are simply going too far. They raise taxes whenever they please, completely disregarding whether we live or die!”
As he spoke, he angrily stood up, his heavy steps revealing the agitation and unease within him. Kama also stood up, crossing his arms over his chest, his voice impassioned: “This is the government driving the people into rebellion. We cannot just sit here and wait for death! I think we should unite with the nearby villages and refuse to pay together. If those red-haired foreigners insist on acting recklessly, then we rise up and fight them to the death!”
Listening to the intense reactions of the group, Maya gently tapped the table to signal for silence. Her tone was steady yet tinged with helplessness: “I understand everyone’s reaction. I also do not wish to let the red-haired foreigners take whatever they want.” Her gaze swept across each elder’s face, her voice slowing slightly. “Hansheng, you are well-traveled and have long conducted business with the foreigners. What is your view on this matter?”
As Maya’s words fell, Wu Hansheng, the elderly merchant, slowly rose to his feet. In his youth, he had traveled widely and interacted with many foreign traders. Today, he wore a simple cloth garment, with a trace of fatigue visible between his brows. When he spoke, his tone was calm and cautious: “We Han people have a saying: if one cannot endure small matters, one will ruin great plans. Of course, none of you wish to be at the mercy of the red-haired foreigners, but they possess modern weapons such as foreign guns and cannons. There is no need for us to confront them head-on.” His voice was gentle, yet every word was carefully measured. “I agree with Elder Kama’s suggestion. First consult with neighboring villages. After reaching a consensus, we act together. That way, there is a greater chance of making the red-haired foreigners retreat in the face of difficulty.”
Hearing Wu Hansheng’s words, Kama nodded, lowering his arms slightly, his tone softening somewhat: “Hansheng’s thinking aligns with mine. If we act together after reaching a consensus, our chances of success will be greater.”
After listening, Maya looked deeply at each elder, her expression resolute: “Since all of you agree, I will contact Sister Douning of Xiaolong Village as soon as possible and have her take the lead in gathering the various villages to discuss countermeasures.” Her tone was firm—she had already made her decision.
After speaking, her gaze once again swept across the meeting hall. Seeing the elders present nodding in agreement, Maya stood up and gently clapped her hands, signaling the end of the meeting. The elders rose one after another and walked toward the door. The sound of their footsteps echoed in the empty hall, and the unspoken understanding among them seemed to deepen the already heavy atmosphere. Finally, Maya turned around and looked out the window of the meeting hall. In her steady gaze, there was a trace of concern—this storm, perhaps, would not be easily calmed.

Chapter 9: The Formation of an Anti-Tax Alliance Among the Villages
41
Chief Douning invited the female chiefs of nearby Xinkang, Madou, and Xiaolong communities to her living room to discuss countermeasures. Imaina passed around the tax increase order to the attending chiefs.
Maya said, “I also received this tax increase order only a few days ago. I immediately convened a meeting of the elders. The consensus is that, at this tribal council, each village should first reach an agreement, and then we will act together.”
Vasha, the female chief of Xiaolong, said, “The elders in my community unanimously believe that we cannot make any more concessions. Life is already hard enough for everyone.”
Douning said, “If you do not wish to continue letting the red-haired foreigners take whatever they want and extort us endlessly, I have an idea. When the tax officer Pias comes to explain, we will seize him and take the foreigners in each village as hostages, forcing the red-haired foreigners to concede and withdraw the tax increase order. What do you sisters think of this method?”
Elisa had some concerns and said tactfully, “Taking tax officials, foreign missionaries, and foreign merchants as hostages may very well anger the red-haired foreigners and provoke them to attack the villages with force. You had better think it through carefully.”
Vasha said, “Elisa, your Xinkang community is close to Fort Zeelandia and frequently trades with foreign merchants from various countries. It is not surprising that you would consider things from the perspective of the red-haired foreigners.”
Elisa said, “Sister Vasha, why do you say that? I simply do not want the situation to escalate and become uncontrollable.”
Maya mediated, saying, “Sisters, please do not lose your tempers. If we hold officials and missionaries in our hands, the red-haired authorities will certainly have concerns and accept our negotiation terms.”
Elisa said worriedly, “I always feel that doing this will bring significant repercussions.”
Vasha said displeasedly, “You have so many concerns. Are we supposed to just let the red-haired foreigners butcher us at will?”
Douning said, “Enough. We will proceed with this decision. We will keep the tax officials and missionaries as hostages and force the red-haired foreigners to the negotiating table. Pias will be arriving shortly. We will act according to the situation. Imaina, go gather the strong men of the community and have them assemble at the meeting hall, ready to act. When Pias and his group arrive at the venue, seize them upon hearing the signal.”
Imaina said, “Understood. I will go gather the men right away.”
42
After half an hour, the stifling afternoon heat was finally eased slightly by a faint sea breeze. Pias, Bosimen, and several attendants arrived at Douning’s residence. Her estate was located at the center of the tribe, surrounded by tall trees whose interwoven branches formed a dim green canopy. The ancient stone sculptures in the courtyard were bathed in a golden glow from the sunlight, appearing both mysterious and tranquil. When Imaina received them, she stood in the courtyard, her face betraying no emotion, yet her gaze carried a hint of vigilance.
The attendants remained in the courtyard. Several of them laid out mats in the shade, lowering their heads to drink fruit juice to quench their thirst, their subdued laughter tinged with fatigue. Imaina led Pias and Bosimen into the living room. The air inside was heavy. Exquisite woven fabrics from various regions hung on the walls. The light shifted with the shadows outside the windows, creating a somber atmosphere. Several chiefs sat upright at the table, their expressions serious. When they saw the two men enter, their expressions tightened unconsciously, and the air seemed to carry the scent of impending tension.
Pias looked around uneasily and spoke cautiously, “Chiefs, I have come here to convey an order… The decision to raise taxes was issued by Chief Peter. I am merely carrying out orders. I ask for your understanding.”
He paused, a trace of doubt flashing in his eyes, as if he sensed something was wrong. Vasha immediately interjected, her tone sharp. She stood up and walked toward Pias. Their eyes met, and the tension grew even heavier. “Tax officer, when you unilaterally raise taxes, have you ever considered the reaction of the people? Do you know how much resentment this will provoke?”
Pias’s gaze flickered, and his tone became even weaker. “This is a directive from above. I am only executing orders. I truly have no choice. Please be understanding.” He forced a slight smile, but it appeared particularly insincere.
Vasha’s voice grew sharper as she pressed forward, her arms folded across her chest, her tone as cutting as a blade. “You say ‘just following orders,’ but we are the ones who must go back and face our people. What is that supposed to mean? How are we to explain this?”
Maya nodded gently and stood up to add, “Vasha is right. If we swallow our anger again this time and allow the red-haired foreigners to take whatever they want, how will we explain this to our people in the future?”
Bosimen quickly stood up, attempting to ease the tension. He extended his hands, his tone gentle. “Chiefs, I understand your difficulties. Do not make any hasty decisions. Pias and I will bring your opinions back to Fort Zeelandia and convey them to the authorities.”
Douning stared at Bosimen, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly, her tone filled with unquestionable resolve. “In that case, please convey our views to your superior and ask him to withdraw the tax increase order.”
Bosimen’s expression turned awkward. His fingers unconsciously tightened around the document in his hand, and his tone became helpless. “This… I am afraid that is not something I can promise. I do not have the authority to make such a decision.”
Douning’s gaze remained cold as she smiled faintly. “Officer Pi, what do you say?”
Sweat formed on Pias’s forehead. His hands unconsciously braced against the edge of the table, and his voice carried urgency. “Please do not make things difficult for me! I am also carrying out orders. There is nothing I can do about this…”
Douning let out a cold laugh, lowered her head, and clapped her hands lightly as she gave her command. “In that case, we will have no choice but to keep Pias here as a ‘guest’ until your superior agrees to withdraw the order.”
Her tone carried a trace of coldness, as if the decision had already been made. Pias’s eyes widened instantly, his lips trembling slightly, his voice filled with shock. “You had better think carefully about the consequences of doing this!”
Douning ignored his threat and clapped her hands lightly, calling out, “Imaina!”
Imaina quickly walked to the window, picked up the horn hanging there, and blew it forcefully. The sound was deafening, echoing through the surrounding valleys and rapidly spreading across the entire village. Upon hearing the signal, the tribal men in the meeting hall immediately drew their knives, long staffs, and ropes, assembling swiftly in the square in perfect order.
The leader, Makawu, stepped forward and shouted commands, “Brothers, the chief has given orders. The purpose of this operation is to capture them. Do not harm their lives.” A cold glint flashed in his eyes as he directed the men to split into two groups and surround Douning’s residence.
Seeing the situation, the attendants brought by Pias surrendered immediately, completely incapable of resistance. Makawu issued a low command, “Detain these red-haired foreigners in the meeting hall and guard them strictly.” The attendants were quickly taken away, helpless.
Makawu then led four villagers back into the house and said politely yet firmly, “Chief Douning, everything has been handled properly. Please rest assured.”
Douning nodded and turned to Bosimen, her tone devoid of emotion. “Bosimen, please convey to Chief Peter in Fort Zeelandia that we await his people for negotiations. As for Pias and his attendants, we will treat them well.”
Bosimen nodded helplessly. “I will.” He bowed deeply to Douning.
Douning turned to Makawu, her tone calm yet carrying an undeniable authority. “Makawu, take the tax officer to the guest house and treat him as a guest.”
Makawu responded respectfully, “Yes, Chief. This way, Tax Officer.”
Afterward, Pias was taken away by Makawu and the tribal men. As he stepped out of the living room, the bright sunlight outside illuminated his stunned face.
43
In the morning light, sunlight streamed through the towering windows of the Madou Community Christian Church, falling upon the wooden pews and casting a layer of soft golden radiance. Father Matthews stood before the simple pulpit, flipping through the Bible in his hands, explaining the scriptures to the congregation in a calm yet powerful tone. The air inside the church was filled with a faint fragrance, emanating from the flickering candles and the scent of fresh wood in one corner. When he spoke of a deeply meaningful passage, the worshippers bowed their heads in contemplation, completely absorbed.
However, the church doors suddenly swung open, and Chief Maya entered accompanied by Walu and several community members. Her steps were steady, carrying an invisible authority, while Walu scanned the surroundings with calm eyes, exuding alertness, ready to act at a moment’s notice.
Maya’s gaze settled on Matthews, her tone slightly cold and firm: “Father, I apologize for disturbing your sermon. The chief has urgent matters to discuss with you.”
Matthews paused slightly, then turned to the gathered congregation: “Brothers and sisters, please take a short break.” He put down the Bible, his tone gentle but tinged with unease; the unexpected visitors had instantly changed the atmosphere of the church. The worshippers whispered among themselves, the soft murmur echoing in the air, revealing their curiosity and doubts about the visitors.
Without further hesitation, Matthews nodded at Maya: “Let’s go to the back room to talk, Chief.”
The three walked together to the church’s rear lounge. The dim yellow light inside gave the room a somewhat dark appearance, and the scent of fresh wood permeated the space. Matthews and Maya sat opposite each other, while Walu stood behind Maya, arms crossed, body slightly leaning forward, displaying tense vigilance.
Matthews lightly tapped the table, looking Maya directly in the eyes: “Chief, please speak directly if there is something you need.”
Maya spoke calmly: “Father, tax officer Pias has unilaterally increased taxes, forcing our villages to unite and take action.”
Matthews furrowed his brow slightly and remained silent for a moment before speaking slowly: “This is indeed a difficult problem. How do you plan to respond?”
Maya’s eyes flickered slightly, but her voice remained firm: “We will detain the foreigners in each village as leverage for negotiations with the authorities. We demand that the authorities withdraw their orders. This is the joint decision of the tribal chiefs’ council.”
A flicker of surprise crossed Matthews’ eyes. An uneasy premonition arose in his heart, and his tone became more cautious: “Do you mean that you intend for me to remain in the church, effectively under house arrest?”
Maya nodded, her expression unchanged: “Yes, Father. We will temporarily restrict your freedom of movement.”
Matthews took a deep breath, gently placing the Bible down, his fingers lingering slightly on the pages: “Actually, I do not mind temporary house arrest. What worries me more is the possibility of an overreaction from the authorities.”
Maya smiled faintly, her tone carrying a calm confidence: “We have already assessed that. The authorities will be willing to negotiate because they will have some caution.”
Matthews remained silent for a moment, then spoke earnestly: “Chief, the unilateral tax increase seems to have stirred public resentment. I believe the church will actively intervene. After all, unrest in this region will not be favorable for the church’s missionary work.”
Maya frowned, her tone carrying a hint of challenge: “So you mean, once the church intervenes, it will side with us?”
Matthews looked steadily into Maya’s eyes, his voice calm: “I cannot say that with certainty. But I am confident that the church will not sit idly by as the situation escalates and the tax resistance spreads into local unrest. At the very least, they will act as mediators, working quickly to resolve the matter.”
Maya’s lips curled slightly, a calculating gleam flashing in her eyes: “Very well, Father. I will take the liberty of granting you freedom of movement to go and consult with the regional bishop. You should depart as soon as possible.”
Matthews stood, bowing his head slightly in gratitude: “Thank you, Chief, for your trust. I will go see Bishop Gandhis immediately, and request him to intervene and negotiate with the officials of the governor’s office.”
The outer walls of the Zeeland Castle Governor’s Office gleamed coldly in the morning sun. The building, constructed of heavy stone blocks, appeared even more magnificent and imposing under the sunlight. A slightly cool sea breeze brushed in through the windows, carrying a hint of saltiness, yet it could not relieve the stifling indoor air. Bosman stepped into the quiet office and stood before Chief Peter’s desk, feeling an invisible pressure pressing against his chest.
Peter sat in his carved chair, brow furrowed, hands crossed on the desk, eyes coldly fixed on Bosman, as if awaiting a report that could not be avoided. Bosman spoke without further preamble, his tone heavy: “Report, Chief. Tax officer Pias’ talks with the village chiefs have broken down. He and his entourage are being detained in Xiaolong Village.”
Peter’s eyes suddenly blazed. He stood abruptly, scattering papers from the desk, which fluttered in the wind. Pointing outside, his voice full of anger: “These natives are audacious, deliberately challenging my authority! It seems I must show my strength and give them a painful lesson!”
Buckler stood beside him, his gaze calm, revealing no emotion, slightly bending to pick up the papers from the desk. His tone was even: “Chief, Pias and the foreign merchants are likely all in the hands of the natives. We cannot act rashly, lest they harm the hostages in desperation, causing an international incident. Should foreign powers intervene, our legitimacy here would be shaken.”
Peter slammed the desk loudly, the sound echoing through the spacious office: “Buckler, I understand your point, but I will not retreat! I must make them pay for seizing hostages and openly defying the office!”
Buckler calmly approached Peter, hands placed on the desk, meeting Peter’s gaze directly. He spoke softly: “Chief, shall we wait until the hostages are rescued before taking action?”
Peter’s face showed a trace of impatience, but he still asked firmly: “Do you have a better plan, Buckler?”
Buckler seemed to have anticipated Peter’s reaction. After a moment’s thought, he spoke with careful deliberation: “Chief, since the natives’ rebellion arose from the tax increase, we should, for the time being, concede to their demands and show goodwill. Let them release the hostages first. This is a temporary measure. It will stabilize the situation until our subsequent actions carry more leverage.”
Peter squinted, weighing Buckler’s proposal, then muttered through clenched teeth: “Do it your way. Once they have no leverage left, see how I deal with them!”
Bosman stood aside, listening. Though he dared not speak, he felt deep concern over the unfolding situation. He clearly sensed the hidden dangers behind this power struggle. Bowing slightly, he scanned Peter’s face, understanding that the chief had already made his decision. Peter raised his hand, took up a pen, and quickly wrote a letter, his fingers moving firmly across the paper. He handed it to Bosman: “Take this letter to the village chiefs. Tell them to release the tax officer first. Remember—do not reveal anything that might alert them or arouse suspicion.”
Bosman took the letter, stood upright, and replied softly: “Yes, Chief.” He felt the weight of the envelope, as if it carried not just words but the storm of events about to unfold. He turned to the door, gently closing it behind him, his sense of tension growing stronger.

44
Inside the Pro Min Zhecheng Christian Dominican Church, all was silent. Light from the stained-glass windows on the tall walls scattered across the stone floor, filling the surrounding space with a sacred glow. Yet this tranquility was soon broken. Father Pliny hurried in, his steps rapid and tense, carrying a sense of unease. His face was pale, eyes flickering with anxiety, his voice slightly trembling: “Bishop, there’s trouble in the parish.”
Gandhis stood before the altar, holding a thick Bible in his hands, his gaze calm and profound. Upon hearing Pliny’s words, he furrowed his brow slightly, set the book down, and turned to Pliny: “What’s happening in the parish?”
Pliny drew a deep breath, leaning slightly forward, his tone urgent: “Our people report that in several villages, both the foreigners and our personnel have been collectively placed under house arrest by the chiefs.”
Gandhis’ face showed confusion. He furrowed his brows, crossing his hands over his chest. The slight furrowing indicated his inner doubts: “How could this happen? We have always maintained friendly relations with the chiefs. Even if foreign merchants offended them, there is no reason for them to involve our people. There must be a reason behind this.”
Pliny extended a hand in a gesture of slight explanation: “The reason I learned is that the governor’s office ordered tax officer Pias to unilaterally increase taxes, which provoked strong dissatisfaction from the chiefs, leading them to unite and take action.”
Gandhis pondered for a moment, pacing back and forth, hands open: “If that is the reason, then the united action by the chiefs can be understood. But the chiefs should not be targeting our Dominican order specifically.”
At that moment, Matthews entered the church, his steps heavy and steady, his expression grave. He bowed slightly to Gandhis and spoke: “Bishop, our parish is in trouble.”
Gandhis smiled faintly, his expression still calm, though inner unease was evident: “Matthews has arrived. I can now get a clear understanding of the incident from him.” He gestured slightly for Pliny to step back, indicating Matthews should come closer.
Matthews greeted Gandhis and Pliny, then directly addressed the matter: “Bishop, here is what happened…” His tone was grave as he briefly described the events, eyes showing deep concern.
Gandhis nodded, realizing the situation was even more complex: “I only learned about tax officer Pias being held in Xiaolong Village from you. My concern is not just for the safety of our parishioners, nor only the detained foreign merchants, but also the potential retaliatory actions the governor’s office might take. If the situation escalates and spirals out of control, the entire Siraya parish will fall into prolonged unrest, which is highly unfavorable for our missionary work.”
Matthews furrowed his brow, clasping his hands in front of him, his voice low: “Bishop, I believe our Dominican order must immediately step in to mediate the dispute.”
Gandhis’ gaze gradually became firm. He lifted his head, his voice calm and authoritative: “As the regional bishop, I will certainly intervene to mediate. However, I intend to contact foreign merchants in the city and at Dayuan Port. We will act together, go to the governor’s office, and negotiate with Peter. This increases the chance of success.”
Pliny nodded slightly, stepped forward, his tone confident: “Bishop, what you say is correct. Acting together, Peter is unlikely to dismiss us.”
Gandhis took a deep breath, his eyes showing determination: “It is decided. You two act separately. Pliny, take my signed invitation and immediately invite the chairpersons of the foreign merchant associations from both locations to meet; Matthews, visit each village, explaining to the chiefs that the Dominican order and the merchant associations will intervene together to mediate. Advise the chiefs to remain calm during this period and treat the hostages well to avoid provoking the office.”
Matthews and Pliny answered in unison, their voices decisive and firm: “Yes, Bishop.”
After bowing, Matthews and Pliny quickly turned and departed. The air in the church remained heavy, with only the church bells drifting in on the wind, reminding all that the underlying tension of this turmoil was quietly spreading, and every action by the church would shape the turning of fate.

Chapter Ten: Junsheng Detained by the Madou Community
45
Junsheng and his group had just arrived at the entrance of the Madou community, and the scene before them immediately brought a sense of oppression. Sunlight filtered through the dense leaves, and a gentle breeze stirred the treetops, carrying the scent of earth, but this natural tranquility did not provide any relief for the confrontation that was about to occur. The air at the community entrance was filled with a heavy atmosphere. Several burly community guards stood ahead, expressionless, blocking the way.
At that moment, Walu hurried over with a group of community guards, walking to stand before Junsheng and the two others. His gaze was sharp, and his tone cold: “The headman has ordered that the foreigner must be kept within the community, to await instructions.”
Ali’s face instantly turned ashen. He placed his hands on his hips, the anger on his face unmistakable. Pointing at Walu, he loudly retorted: “Walu, is this how you treat guests?”
Walu shrugged and cupped his hands in response: “Ali, please forgive me. You and Princess Shayun may leave, but this foreign doctor must remain.” His tone was polite, yet a hint of impatience flashed in his eyes.
Ali grew even angrier upon hearing this. Clenching his fists, his face full of defiance, he raised his voice: “We came here to provide medical services on tour. What you are doing completely disregards our Chikan community!”
Walu calmly lowered his head in apology, spreading his hands as if to ease the tension: “Do not be angry yet, Ali. We are only keeping the doctor here temporarily as a guest. We will not make things difficult for him.”
Ali’s face turned ashen with rage. Pointing at the tip of Walu’s nose, he spoke with sarcasm: “Hmph! ‘Temporarily keeping as a guest’? Spoken nicely, but it’s nothing more than putting the doctor under house arrest! If you really want to play tricks like this, our Chikan community will not let your Madou community get away with it. Just wait and see!”
Walu listened and smiled bitterly, waving his hand, clearly unconcerned with Ali’s threats: “It’s useless to make threats, Ali. I am also just following orders; I have no other choice.”
At this moment, Junsheng remained silent for a moment. His gaze swept over the surrounding guards, understanding in his heart that if the confrontation continued, the situation would only get worse. He spoke calmly, his tone carrying a hint of counsel: “Ali, calm down. Since our purpose is to provide medical services, I trust that Madou community will not act irrationally. I will stay behind; you take Shayun back to Chikan and wait for my news.”
Shayun, standing to the side, upon hearing Junsheng’s words, momentarily dimmed her eyes, then quickly lifted her head and looked at Junsheng firmly, her voice resolute: “Junsheng, husband and wife share the same fate. If you decide to stay, I will not leave.”
Junsheng helplessly waved his hand and stepped closer to her. He gently grasped her wrist and said in a low voice: “Listen to me, do not act impulsively at this time, Shayun.” A trace of unease showed in his eyes, but his tone remained gentle.
Shayun’s gaze was as steadfast as fire, without a trace of hesitation: “No need to persuade me, Junsheng. My mind is made up.” She gently pulled her hand from Junsheng’s and took a step forward, standing beside him without retreat.
Ali’s gaze shifted between the two of them. Finally, he let out a deep sigh and firmly patted Junsheng’s shoulder: “Fine, Junsheng. I’ll return to Chikan to report. The headman will arrive soon.” He turned and briskly walked toward the nearby ox cart, pointing his finger at Walu’s chest with a threatening tone: “Walu, hear me clearly. If anything happens to Junsheng and his wife in your community, I, Ali, will hold you responsible. Chikan community will make sure you pay the price.”
Walu glanced at him, patted his chest, and smiled slightly, appearing unconcerned: “You may rest assured. The doctor and Princess Shayun will be treated as honored guests. I will ask Headman Maya to arrange accommodations so they can continue seeing patients. Only their freedom of movement will be temporarily restricted.”
Junsheng gently shook his head, easing the tension: “Ali, since Walu has shown sincerity, Shayun and I will be fine. You may return first.”
Hearing this, Ali nodded, quickened his pace slightly, glanced back at Junsheng and Shayun repeatedly, and finally drove the ox cart away. His gaze remained uneasy, frequently looking back until the cart gradually disappeared from view.
Walu then turned and saluted Junsheng and his wife: “Doctor, Princess Shayun, please follow me.” His voice regained its calm, though a faint warning lingered in his eyes.
Junsheng and his wife were escorted by Walu and the community guards toward the interior. The scene at the entrance became quieter, yet all the tension seemed to permeate the land, each step seeming to announce that this turmoil was only just beginning.
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46
Accompanied by Walu, Junsheng and his group arrived at the residence of Madou community Headman Maya. The residence was hidden in a small clearing within a dense forest. Ancient trees towered around it, branches interweaving and blocking most of the sunlight. The exterior of the residence was simple and elegant. In the lush garden, a few blooming flowers swayed in the breeze, seemingly welcoming the guests.
Walu reached the door and pushed open the heavy wooden gate. The gate emitted a dull, low sound, echoing through the quiet air. Walu politely gestured for Junsheng and Shayun to enter, then proceeded to the main hall to report to Maya.
Entering Maya’s reception room, Walu said in a low voice: “Princess Shayun of Chikan community and her doctor husband have come together. I have brought them to see you.” His tone was respectful, yet slightly urgent.
Maya’s gaze first swept over Walu, then fell on Junsheng and Shayun at the door. Her brows slightly furrowed as she softly asked: “Walu, you did not treat Shayun disrespectfully, did you?”
Walu immediately bowed, speaking sincerely: “How could Walu dare! Everything was done according to the headman’s instructions.”
Maya nodded, a faint smile appearing on her face: “I’ll change my clothes. You bring them up afterwards.”
“Yes, Headman.” Walu said, then turned and went downstairs, disappearing around the corner of the staircase.
After a while, Maya had changed her clothes. She wore a simple yet dignified outfit, her hair lightly pinned up, and stepped out of the reception room to greet the guests. Sunlight poured through the windows onto the polished floor, elongating her figure. Her steps were light, carrying a subtle air of authority and warmth.
Maya walked briskly toward Junsheng and his wife, extending her hands, and said warmly: “Doctor and Princess Shayun, you have come from afar. On behalf of Madou community, I express sincere welcome.” She smiled and embraced Shayun, her movements gentle and polite.
Shayun returned the warm smile and lightly embraced Maya, her voice filled with gratitude: “Thank you, Headman. You are far too kind.”
After separating from Shayun, Maya’s gaze softened. She asked kindly: “Shayun, how has elder sister Dabongya been recently?”
A trace of tenderness flashed in Shayun’s eyes. She softly replied: “Sena is doing well. Thank you, aunt, for asking.” Her tone was full of warmth, as if their bond over the years had been like that of sisters.
Maya turned her head to look at Walu beside her. Walu slightly leaned in and whispered a few words to her. After listening, Maya’s gaze softened, and she turned toward Junsheng and his wife, speaking again: “You know, I have been close friends with Sena for decades. We often correspond. Doctor, I apologize. I heard you came to practice medicine, but due to certain circumstances, you two will have to endure a temporary inconvenience and stay in our community for a while.” Her tone conveyed regret, clearly uneasy about the sudden arrangement.
Shayun smiled slightly, her tone gentle: “Yes! Perhaps it is not the right time?”
Maya was unbothered, smiling lightly instead: “Not at all! Shayun, you and your husband will first stay at our community’s meeting hall. The space is ample, allowing you to continue treating patients and providing medical services to the community members. Are you both satisfied with this arrangement?”
Upon hearing this, Junsheng immediately bowed respectfully, speaking courteously: “Thank you, Headman, for going to such trouble on our behalf.”
Maya nodded lightly, smiling in response: “You are welcome. It is only right.” Then, she turned to Walu and instructed: “Walu, after taking them to the meeting hall, go to the weaving building to bring back Princess Yimin. Have her accompany Shayun and the doctor, so she can learn some medical knowledge.”
Walu nodded: “Understood, Headman.” Without further words, he turned quickly to carry out the task.
Maya continued explaining to Shayun: “Shayun, as you know, Yimin is a few years younger than you. She has been lively and active since childhood, unlike you, disliking sewing and cooking. I persuaded her to learn weaving. I thought, since you and your husband have come, let Yimin follow you to learn.” Her tone was relaxed, as if recounting a familiar domestic matter.
Shayun smiled gently, her expression sincere: “Aunt, if little sister Yimin is interested in medicine, we would be happy to teach her.” Her tone carried warm encouragement.
Upon hearing this, Maya’s face showed a pleased smile, nodding lightly: “That is wonderful! I thank you both in advance.” She slightly bowed, hands clasped together, her tone full of gratitude.
Within this simple, ancient residence, the atmosphere instantly softened. The conversation between the two noblewomen and Junsheng and his wife seemed to fill the quiet residence with warmth. At this moment, the surrounding tree shadows, sunlight, and gentle breeze all appeared to quietly watch over them, making this meeting more profound and memorable.
47
Inside the Madou Society assembly hall, the air was permeated with the scent of herbs and ancient trees, surrounded on all sides by dense vines. Sunlight outside filtered through the treetops and dappled onto the wooden floor, forming a layer of soft light. The furnishings within the assembly hall were simple yet elegant. On the long table, various herbs and medical bottles were neatly arranged. A few old oil lamps emitted faint light, casting gentle shadows that added a quiet and warm atmosphere to the place. Shayun and Junsheng were focused on organizing the medicine chest, sorting the various bottles and jars, their fingers lightly brushing over the bottles as if each contained some ancient wisdom.
At that moment, the sound of footsteps came from outside the door. Walu and Princess Yimin entered the assembly hall together. Yimin immediately spotted Shayun, who was busy at work. A flash of delight appeared in her eyes, and she quickly stepped forward, grabbing Shayun’s hands with excitement, her tone filled with the joy of reunion: "Sister Shayun, I’ve missed you so much! It’s been five years since I last went to Chikan."
Shayun smiled faintly, her eyes shimmering with tenderness, and gently rubbed Yimin’s head: "Yimin, you’ve grown taller and have become very beautiful!"
Yimin happily lifted her long hair, smiling brilliantly: "Really? Thank you, Sister!" She tilted her head toward Junsheng standing nearby, curiously asking: "Sister, this foreigner must be your husband, right? He looks very refined."
Shayun turned to Junsheng, her eyes carrying a trace of tenderness, smiling as she said: "His name is Junsheng; he is a doctor, so he is naturally more refined in demeanor." She introduced him to Yimin: "Junsheng, this is Yimin, the daughter of Chief Maya."
Junsheng smiled lightly, stepped forward, and extended his hand to hold Yimin’s, speaking with humility: "Princess Yimin, it is an honor to meet you!" His eyes were gentle, his voice calm.
Yimin returned his handshake wholeheartedly, her face showing a playful smile: "The honor is mine, the honor is mine!" She looked at Shayun, a mischievous glint in her eyes: "Sena asked me if I wanted to study medicine with you and your husband. During this time, I’ve been staying in the weaving building and nearly bored to death, so I didn’t hesitate at all to come find you." As she spoke, she lightly swung her hands, mimicking her helpless idleness in the weaving building.
Shayun smiled and shook her head: "I understand. Like me, you don’t enjoy tedious tasks. However, studying medicine is not easy. I’m worried you might not be able to endure the hardship and give up halfway." Her tone carried concern, her gaze was gentle, yet with a hint of maternal admonition.
Yimin shrugged and laughed carelessly: "Sister, you don’t have to worry about me! Studying medicine is definitely more interesting than weaving." Her tone was cheerful, brimming with confidence, her eyes sparkling with a desire for this new domain.
Shayun lowered her head in thought for a moment, then looked at her with a gentle gaze: "The purpose of learning medicine is to practice and save lives. Of course, the premise is that you are interested in learning, but more importantly, you must have a sense of mission." Her tone was steady and profound, conveying a concept deeper than mere interest.
Yimin nodded lightly in response, her face full of determination: "Alright! I promise you, I will study seriously." She pressed her hands to her chest, her tone sincere, as if making a vow.
Just as the two were conversing, Walu entered, accompanied by a young man. The young man’s expression was respectful, tall in stature, with a slightly youthful face. Approaching, he bowed lightly and spoke respectfully: "Princess Shayun, this is my younger brother Wami. The chief assigned him to come and serve under your orders. You may assign him any task, and he will assist you with errands."
Shayun smiled faintly, a trace of relief in her eyes: "Walu, thank you." She nodded to Wami, signaling acceptance, then extended her hand toward Wami, her tone gentle: "Wami, welcome here. From today on, you will work with us. If there is anything you need, just ask."
Wami nodded respectfully: "Thank you, Princess." His voice was deep and strong; though young, it carried a sense of determination.
The atmosphere in the assembly hall gradually became harmonious and warm as the people interacted. In this space filled with the scent of herbs, Shayun seemed not only to be imparting medical knowledge but also, through her warm demeanor, leading each newcomer into this sacred mission.
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49
In the parlor of the Christian Dominican Church in Pulominzhe City, the air was filled with the scent of candlelight and wood. The quiet atmosphere seemed to separate all worldly clamor from the outside. The church’s arched ceiling soared high. Sunlight streamed through the stained-glass windows, casting multicolored patches on the floor. The sacred images and crosses on the walls silently observed every visitor, the interplay of light and shadow within the room giving a sense of holiness and solemnity. On the conference table were several Bibles and notebooks, alongside a pot of hot tea and an incense burner emitting a faint fragrance.
Bishop Gandis sat at the table, lightly tapping his fingers on the surface, his expression pensive. Opposite him sat George and Louis, the two heads of foreign trading companies, their expressions serious, words full of anxiety. George wiped the sweat from his forehead while speaking urgently: "Bishop, Louis and I are troubled over the matter of the foreign commercial agents stationed in several villages, who have been detained by the village chiefs. From what we’ve gathered, this arose because the Dutch authorities here forcibly imposed additional taxes, inciting strong discontent among the local villagers, which in turn implicated the foreign agents."
Gandis gently nodded, a trace of concern appearing on his face, then spoke in a calm yet heavy tone: "I asked the two of you to come here precisely to seek solutions." He put down the pen in his hand, clasped his hands together on the table, his gaze fixed on them.
Louis crossed his hands on the table, his tone somewhat agitated: "I also learned that the Dutch East India Company, in order to seize the European leather market, instructed the governor of Batavia, Putmans, to order Peter of the Zeeland Fortress authorities to multiply the supply of deerskins in a short period." His tone grew heavier, his brows furrowed, clearly outraged by the news.
George clenched his fists, his voice tinged with anger: "These Dutch merchants are terrible, exploiting the locals in the colonies by any means for the sake of their company’s profits. No wonder the locals have risen in resistance." He grew increasingly agitated, seemingly ready to stand at any moment.
Gandis maintained calm. He sipped his tea lightly, then responded evenly: "I am concerned that if this matter is not handled carefully, once it escalates, it could develop into long-term regional unrest. Such a situation would not only hinder the Dominican order’s missionary work in this diocese but would certainly have highly adverse effects on the commercial activities of all nations here." His tone was measured, full of considered judgment.
George nodded, his gaze still serious: "You are right, Bishop. Therefore, Louis and I have agreed that we should combine our efforts with the Dominican order to negotiate with Peter at the authorities, applying pressure together, requesting that he immediately revoke the tax order and restore calm, so that foreign merchants and agents are not innocently affected." The urgency in his tone became more apparent, as if driven by an eager force.
Gandis sighed deeply, clasping his hands over his chest, a slight lift of his brows: "We must indeed unite to pressure Peter. However, from what I know of him, he is a sly old fox. Even facing our immense pressure, he will likely not yield easily." His tone carried a trace of resignation, showing his full awareness of Peter’s cunning.
Louis lightly tapped the table, a resolute glint in his eyes: "If Peter insists on reckless behavior, we will be forced to use the allied European forces to dispatch troops, remove the Dutch and the East India Company’s colonial presence here." His tone was firm, his serious expression revealing decisive planning.
Gandis shook his head slightly, the worry in his brow undiminished: "Of course, that is the worst-case plan. But I do not wish to see all parties engaging in warfare over commercial interests, bringing mutual destruction. This region would fall into conflict, leaving the people in misery. Therefore, we should seek resolution through diplomatic channels whenever possible, with minimal cost." His tone was steady, reminding the two heads that solutions must be approached prudently.
George pondered for a moment, then nodded, understanding in his eyes: "I understand your concern, Bishop. Then we shall attempt courtesy first and force later. If Peter truly ignores the demands of foreign merchants, at least we would have justification to mobilize allied forces against the Dutch." His tone slightly eased, as if preparing for the forthcoming plan.
Gandis slightly nodded, then turned to an attendant beside him: "Pliny, later you will deliver this petition, signed by me and the two heads, to the authorities for Chief Peter." His tone was calm yet authoritative.
Pliny stood and bowed respectfully: "Understood, Bishop." His voice was brief yet firm, clearly knowledgeable of the matter.
Louis then stood, his serious expression returning: "We shall go meet this tricky fat fox Peter." His tone carried a hint of provocation, displaying his anger and dissatisfaction with Peter, seemingly mentally prepared for the negotiation.
The atmosphere in the meeting room grew heavy once more, each exchanged word deepening the solemnity. Every attendee understood that this battle of wits had only just begun, and the future would be a difficult and uncertain game.
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50
Inside the office of the Zeeland Fortress authorities, the heavy wooden doors quietly opened. Father Pliny stepped into this space, filled with the dense scent of leather and smoke. The interior was dimly lit, with a few old oil lamps emitting faint light, illuminating the embroidered wall tapestries and casting a hazy golden glow. Governor Peter sat in a luxurious tiger-skin chair, his hands crossed on the table, exuding an arrogant and lazy demeanor. Officer Buckler stood straight beside him, seemingly awaiting Peter’s every command. On the wall hung two oil paintings depicting the Dutch colonial empire: one showed a merchant ship sailing to the New World, the other displayed the illustrious history of the East India Company.
Pliny bowed, offering the seemingly ordinary yet weighty petition, his tone respectful but carrying unignorable firmness: "Greetings, Chief. I am here by the order of Bishop Gandis of the Dominican diocese, delivering the bishop’s petition."
The attendant silently took the petition and quickly handed it to Peter. Peter raised a slight eyebrow, leaned back in his chair, and casually tore open the envelope to read. Candlelight flickered across his long, pen-like fingers, reflecting his displeased expression.
After reading, Peter casually handed the petition to Buckler. Buckler read it carefully, then leaned toward Peter’s ear and whispered a few words. The tone carried a hint of cold laughter and disdain, as if anticipating the forthcoming confrontation.
Buckler’s voice echoed in the silent room: "Father, return to the bishop and report that Chief Peter will be here to receive the bishop and the two heads three days from now in the morning."
Pliny nodded slightly, turning to leave. Behind him, Buckler’s eyes fixed on his back, his tone tinged with sarcasm: "As expected, the Dominicans and the foreign trading companies are joining forces, trying to intervene."
Peter waved his hand, signaling Buckler to be silent for a moment, then spoke slowly, a trace of unease in his eyes: "Chief of Staff, how do you think we should deal with these people?"
Buckler patted his elaborate uniform, his face devoid of any emotion, speaking decisively: "Of course, we cannot yield under their pressure. Otherwise, in the future, if such matters occur again, they will certainly intervene by precedent. Moreover, the task assigned to us by Governor Putmans must be completed despite any obstacles."
Peter’s brows furrowed slightly, his hands clasped on his chest. After a moment of silence, he murmured in objection: "I feel that the tax issue is becoming increasingly tricky. The Dominicans hold considerable power in Europe and maintain friendly relations with our Dutch crown. The East India Company likely cannot provoke them. Moreover, the foreign merchants here do not wish for us to monopolize trade; if the situation escalates beyond control, a united European response against us is not impossible."
Buckler remained unconcerned, smiling faintly: "Chief, we will proceed according to the original plan: first, release the hostages from those villages. Then, we will send troops into the villages to capture the village chiefs. Once the chiefs are in our hands, I do not believe the locals would dare resist."
Peter looked at the old map on the table, his fingers tracing the locations of villages. After a moment, he looked up at Buckler: "Chief of Staff, I think your method carries some risk, but at present, there is no better approach. Execute it as you suggest."
Buckler’s mouth curved slightly, revealing a cold smile: "We will create facts on the ground. As long as the situation does not spiral out of control, later the Dominicans and foreign merchants cannot challenge us."
Peter slowly stood, walked to the window, and overlooked the bustling streets of Zeeland Fortress. His gaze fixed on the distance, his mind burdened by invisible pressure. This game of commerce and politics was unlikely to be as simple as he wished.

Chapter Eleven: The Regional Bishop Steps In to Mediate
51
At the Maya chieftain’s residence in the Madou community, the atmosphere in the living room was heavy yet tranquil. Sunlight, dappled through the carved wooden windows, fell upon the ancient wooden floor, and the dim yellow light made the mansion’s ambiance particularly solemn. On the wall hung an oil painting depicting a grand feast of the ancient tribe; the figures in the painting displayed rich expressions, as if narrating the heroic legends of the past. The air in the room carried a faint scent of herbs, harmonizing with the low wooden furniture, creating a sense of simplicity and stability.
Father Matthews entered the living room. Chieftain Maya was seated upright in a low-backed chair, watching the priest with an expressionless face. Her hands rested flat on her knees, fingers slightly interlaced, her gaze steady and profound, everything under her control.
Matthews bowed respectfully, his tone gentle yet tinged with a trace of urgency: “Chieftain, I have reported to Regional Bishop Gandis, and he has promised to convene the presidents of the foreign merchants’ guilds in Pucheng and Dayuan Port to jointly put pressure on Chief Peter of the governor’s office. The bishop asked me to relay the message that during this period, please ensure calmness and treat the hostages well, so as not to provoke the authorities.”
Maya nodded slightly, and in the cold sharpness of her eyes, a trace of gratitude shone through: “Father, we thank the bishop for striving on behalf of the people of the region. During this period, we will treat the hostages well. Our aim is only to request that the office rescind the tax increase order, not to engage in direct conflict with the authorities.” She put down the bamboo fan in her hands and whispered a few words to the nearby maid, who nodded and left.
She turned back, her gaze extending through the shadows outside the window toward the distance, her tone resolute: “I will instruct Valu to take the letter I wrote to meet with the chiefs of each community. You need not deliver the messages one by one.”
Matthews exhaled slightly, his body relaxing a little, nodding in understanding: “That reassures me a bit.” He paused, then turned toward a bottle of orchids on the table, seemingly waiting for Maya to continue speaking. “Earlier, I passed by your community meeting hall and saw the banner for mobile medical services. Could it be that Doctor Junsheng and his wife are visiting your community?”
Maya’s lips curved slightly, carrying a subtle trace of gentleness: “Yes. That foreign doctor and Shayun will be here in our community for a while, providing medical services to the villagers.” Her tone carried a hint of pride, clearly pleased by the arrival of the doctor couple.
A spark of excitement passed through Matthews’ eyes, and his tone became much lighter: “Then I must go see him; Junsheng and I are familiar friends.” Saying this, he stepped forward to leave, lightly stroking the wooden carving at the edge of the table, imbued with a hint of nostalgic feeling.
Maya rose, her steps light as she walked toward the door, her hand gently resting on the doorframe, her tone low but filled with trust: “Father, should any unforeseen circumstances arise, please contact me immediately.”
Matthews looked back, giving a slight smile, his gaze steadfast: “Rest assured, Chieftain. I will contact you as soon as possible.”
Maya nodded, her eyes turning again toward the window. The distant mountains gleamed under the sunlight, as if symbolizing the future of this land, which, in any case, would continue to move forward.
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52
Matthews arrived at the meeting hall, an ancient wooden building surrounded by dense trees. Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the branches, falling on the lush green grass. The air was filled with the fresh scent of soil and herbs, particularly refreshing. Inside, the lighting was soft, with various herbs and medicinal ingredients arranged on the tables. In the corner, the stove emitted a faint smoke, carrying the fragrance of firewood. The atmosphere here was simple yet warm, like a refuge hidden within nature.
Matthews entered the building and saw Doctor Junsheng and his wife standing nearby. A familiar smile appeared on his face. He approached Junsheng, and the two embraced, instantly creating a warm and intimate atmosphere.
Matthews patted Junsheng on the back, his tone cheerful: “Junsheng, my good brother, I hope all has been well?”
Junsheng smiled, pushing Matthews slightly away, a trace of warmth in his eyes: “Matthews, I am well. And you?” His tone carried genuine concern.
Matthews smiled slightly and gestured around: “Madou is my parish. After leaving Dayuan Port, I have stayed here to preach.” His tone held a trace of pride, clearly satisfied with his sense of mission.
Junsheng smiled even more gently, his eyes full of understanding: “I know you are the priest here, Matthews.” He spoke softly, his eyes revealing the joy of reunion after a long separation.
Suddenly, Matthews glanced at Shayun standing beside him, his eyes lighting up, a joking tone in his voice: “Junsheng, I heard you got married, married the princess of Chikan, and this beautiful lady beside you must be the princess’s wife, right?”
Junsheng smiled warmly, his gaze gentle as he looked at Shayun: “This is my wife, Shayun. She is indeed a princess.” His tone was full of pride.
Shayun bowed slightly, smiling gently, her tone respectful and composed: “Pleasure to meet you, Father Matthews.” Her posture was upright, yet her eyes contained a trace of humility.
Matthews squinted, laughing: “When husband and wife are united, it truly is a case of the husband leading and the wife following!” He waved his hand, seemingly making a lighthearted jest.
Junsheng smiled at Shayun, introducing gently: “My wife practices medicine with me. She has studied Chinese medicine for several years.” His tone was full of pride, clearly proud of his wife.
At that moment, Yimin jumped over, slightly pouting, her tone playful: “I am not here just to join in the fun! Shayun is my big sister. She and her husband teach me many medical skills and knowledge.”
Matthews squinted, looking at Yimin, smiling: “Princess Yimin, are you here joining in the fun too?”
Yimin pouted, somewhat indignant: “I am not joining in the fun! Shayun teaches me many things!” She muttered, her eyes full of small defiance.
Matthews laughed even more heartily: “Tonight we brothers will have a proper reunion. Tomorrow I still have to rush to Xiaolong Community.” He patted Junsheng on the shoulder, his tone relaxed.
Junsheng raised his eyebrows in surprise: “To Xiaolong Community?” He clearly did not anticipate Matthews’ plan.
Matthews nodded: “The regional bishop has instructed me to deliver messages.” His tone was calm, but his eyes held a trace of contemplation.
Junsheng nodded in understanding: “I see.”
At that moment, Shayun’s voice rang out warmly: “Yimin, why don’t we cook together tonight and make a feast?”
Yimin’s eyes lit up, immediately nodding: “Okay! With sister teaching me, the dishes I make shouldn’t be too bad.” A trace of anticipatory smile appeared on her face.
Meanwhile, Wami, standing aside, couldn’t resist pretending to make a distressed face, his tone teasing: “That’s not certain. I have experienced the princess’s cooking before—it felt like being a victim.”
Yimin pouted, retorting with displeasure: “It wasn’t that tragic, Wami. Don’t make me look so awful.”
Wami scratched his forehead nonchalantly, laughing: “I did not make you look awful; I am only speaking honestly.” As he spoke, he glanced at Yimin, his face playful.
Yimin pretended to be angry, striking a challenging pose: “Wami, you really are naughty!” She lightly waved her hand, tapping Wami’s shoulder a few times.
Wami pretended to be painfully bent over, as if severely hit, then his eyes twinkled, and he laughed mischievously: “I dare not, I dare not! Princess, spare me!”
Everyone watching could not help but laugh, and the atmosphere instantly lightened considerably. Matthews also laughed more heartily, feeling that these moments were far more precious than anything else.
53
Ali's hurried footsteps echoed on the quiet streets of Chikan Village, and the dust on the street was stirred by the wind, while the low wooden houses cast long shadows under the setting sun. When he hurriedly reached the village entrance, Kalli was standing at the doorway waiting, his armor glinting faintly in the twilight. Seeing Ali, Kalli furrowed his brow and asked in surprise, "Ali, why are you back alone? At this time, you should be with Sharyun and Junsheng, shouldn't you?"
Ali's face was somewhat grave, and his breathing slightly hurried: "Kalli, the Junsheng couple have encountered trouble! I was planning to go report this matter to the headman."
Kalli's eyebrows immediately rose, a flicker of unease passing through his concerned eyes: "The Junsheng couple encountered trouble? Explain clearly, what happened?"
Ali took a deep breath, speaking with urgency: "The three of us left Xinguang Village and headed toward Madou Village. Just as we reached the village entrance, we were stopped by Walu and his group of brothers. Walu said that their headman Maya had ordered all foreigners to be detained; Junsheng is a foreigner, so he must stay. Sharyun insisted on accompanying him, so Junsheng told me to return first and report."
Veins bulged on Kalli's face, a flash of anger in his eyes, fists clenched, his voice low and stern: "This Walu is utterly outrageous! He dares to treat Junsheng like this? Does he not know that Junsheng is one of us from Chikan Village?"
Ali shook his head, speaking firmly: "He certainly knows, but he is only executing the headman's orders. I warned him on the spot that if he forcibly detains our people, he must pay the price for it."
Kalli's expression darkened, and he said angrily: "We must report to the headman immediately; we must go to Madou Village and get our people back!"
The two quickened their pace and arrived at Dabongya's residence. Ali hurriedly explained the whole chain of events: "Headman, this is exactly how things happened."
After hearing this, Dabongya kept a calm expression and spoke evenly: "From what I hear, Maya probably does not intend to treat Junsheng as a hostage. First, Junsheng went for a medical tour, not for business; second, Junsheng is Sharyun’s husband, our son-in-law from Chikan Village. My relationship with Maya is deep; she would not intentionally make things difficult for us."
Kalli's worry did not fully dissipate; he spoke in a low voice: "Headman, regarding this tax increase event, Madou Village and several other northern communities have united to resist the taxes, and they have detained all foreigners. This situation already puts us at odds with them. If Junsheng is also captured now, it clearly shows they are disregarding Chikan Village. I believe we should immediately go to Madou Village and bring Junsheng and Sharyun back."
Dabongya nodded, speaking in a steady tone: "We cannot handle this matter rashly. If Maya does not intend to treat Junsheng as a hostage, then we should not recklessly march in and demand accountability; that would only harm the friendship between us and her."
At this time, Li Qinghua spoke from the side: "Dabongya, I have a somewhat different opinion."
Dabongya turned to look at him: "Husband, please speak."
Li Qinghua slightly furrowed his brow, speaking thoughtfully: "We have a deep friendship with Headman Maya. She would not detain Junsheng without reason. But what I worry about is that if this joint tax-resistance action spirals out of control, and a conflict occurs with the authorities, Junsheng and Sharyun, being in Madou Village, could become innocent victims."
Dabongya silently nodded after hearing this, her tone becoming more resolute: "Yes, my husband is right. We cannot let Sharyun and her husband be trapped in such a dangerous situation."
Li Qinghua looked at Dabongya and smiled: "Why don’t the two of us go together and bring them back? After all, Chikan Village is safe."
Dabongya nodded in agreement: "Alright, Qinghua, I will follow your advice. Ali, go prepare the ox cart. After a brief preparation, we will depart."
Ali responded promptly: "Yes, Headman."
Kalli then spoke eagerly: "Headman, can I go with you?"
Dabongya slightly frowned: "Kalli, your temper is too hasty. If you want to go, you must accept my restraints and not act recklessly."
Kalli shivered in his heart, immediately bowing and cupping his hands: "Yes, Headman. I will remain calm and prepare now."
Dabongya smiled and nodded: "Good. Wait for me at the village entrance within half an hour."
Kalli and Ali saluted each other and parted ways. A few minutes later, Ali drove the ox cart to the Chikan Village entrance, seeing Kalli and the siblings Lalu standing there. They wore simple warrior outfits, with bows and arrows on their backs, long knives at their waists, and shields held in their hands, appearing particularly capable.
Ali frowned in puzzlement: "Kalli, why are you dressed like this? We’re not going to war."
Kalli chuckled, patting the shield on his back: "Better safe than sorry! If the others come at us forcefully, at least we have some ability to protect ourselves."
At this moment, Dabongya approached with a smile: "Kalli, why did you bring Lalu along as well?"
Kalli shrugged one shoulder: "Headman, no choice. She insisted on coming to rescue them when she heard Junsheng and Sharyun were captured."
Lalu lifted her chin slightly: "Headman, I am as close to Sharyun as a sister. How could I stand by if she encounters trouble? So I decided to come along."
Dabongya smiled and nodded: "Alright, since you insist, then come together. Get on the cart and sit beside me. Having company along the way will not be too boring."
Lalu, nimble and agile, leapt onto the ox cart in two steps and sat beside Dabongya. Dabongya smiled at her: "Lalu, with your skills, if you were a boy back then, how great that would have been. In the future, you will certainly become a brave warrior."
Lalu smiled, winking proudly: "My mother said the same thing!"
With the ringing of the ox cart bell, the group set off toward Madou Village in the north. Under the sunset, the shadow of the cart stretched long, as if vaguely foreshadowing the challenges that were about to come.
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54
The scribe Bossman led Gandis, George, and Louis through the hall of the magistrate’s office. The reflections from the green tiles on the floor and the light and shadows from the paintings on the walls interwove, creating an atmosphere of solemnity and austerity. The air was filled with the musty scent of ancient wooden bookshelves and documents. Enormous windows let in the faint afternoon sunlight, casting a cold, empty light over everything. As they approached Chief Peter's office, Bossman stopped, signaling the three to wait.
The office door slowly opened. Peter stood behind the enormous oak desk, hands crossed on the desktop, his gaze stern, as if already aware of their purpose. Bossman spoke quietly: "Chief, the bishop and the two heads of the merchant associations."
Peter slightly waved his hand in acknowledgment. Bossman respectfully stepped back, then allowed the three to enter. Peter’s gaze did not waver as he said faintly, "Please sit."
Gandis spoke first, his tone carrying a trace of urgency: "Chief, the three of us have come specially regarding the official tax increase."
Peter remained seated steadily, the corners of his mouth slightly upturned, but behind the smile, his eyes were cold. "I am aware of your purpose," he replied in a low voice, tinged with indifference. "Whether to raise taxes is the authority of the office; it seems inappropriate for you three to interfere."
George slightly furrowed his brows, lightly tapping the edge of the desk with his fingers, clearly feeling Peter’s indifference. He then spoke more firmly: "The official tax increase has caused strong resistance from the natives. Foreign merchants in this area are also affected. Not only is their freedom of movement restricted, but trade activities with the natives have halted due to native boycotts. We ask the Chief to reconsider, revoke the tax order, so the situation can ease, and trade activities can resume as soon as possible."
Peter’s gaze never shifted. After listening, he responded calmly: "My tax officers are in the hands of the natives; I do not want the situation to escalate. If the natives agree to release my subordinates, I am willing to sit down with them and negotiate calmly."
Louis, hearing this, showed a slight sense of relief. He leaned slightly forward and said in a low voice: "Since the Chief sincerely intends to resolve the issue, we hope this dispute can end peacefully."
Gandis, seeing the situation was not clear, became serious. He stepped forward, hands crossed on his chest, his tone heavier: "I have requested priests in each district to properly calm the emotions of the congregation. I, and all the clergy of the Dominican Order, do not wish this matter to affect foreign merchants. Chief, please restrain your subordinates. At this moment, the congregation must not be provoked further."
Peter slightly nodded, but his tone remained unchanged: "I will do my best! You three need not say more; I know how to handle this."
Peter waved his hand, his tone carrying a hint of unquestionable command: "Attendant, see them out."
Peter turned and left, leaving the three standing in the office, faces full of shock and frustration. Gandis’s brow was tightly furrowed, muttering under his breath: "You, Chief Peter, wield a lot of official power!"
Louis also frowned, his lips moving slightly, as if wanting to say more, but ultimately remained silent. George placed his hand on his forehead, feeling a sense of helpless frustration, and muttered: "He simply does not listen to our advice."
The attendant stood at the door, slightly bowing, with a tone of mild impatience: "The three of you, please leave? The Chief wishes to rest."
Gandis, furious, clenched his fists tightly and strode toward the door. He pushed it open sharply, his voice sounding particularly loud in the quiet magistrate's office. George and Louis followed, and the three walked out heavily, exchanging no words, silently moving toward the courtyard outside, each carrying deeper anger and resentment in their hearts.
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55
Xiaolong Village was located in the forested hills by the lake, where Headman Douning’s residence stood quietly. Shadows of trees swayed in the courtyard, and a few bird calls pierced the afternoon silence. The wind blew from the valley, lifting the vine curtains hanging by the windows, and also stirring the light of a few swaying oil lamps inside, foreshadowing some uncertain fate.
Inside, there was a reception hall built with dark wood. On the walls hung deer antlers and totems representing tribal glory. The floor was covered with animal-skin carpets, and several woven baskets and clay jars were placed in the corners. Headman Douning wore a deep red woven robe, sitting in a low rattan chair, his expression calm and composed. Imena stood beside him, hands clasped before her, her expression serious.
Urgent footsteps sounded from outside the door as the scribe Bossman entered, accompanied by Makawu. The crisp sound of Bossman’s military boots on the wooden floor echoed. Though a slight smile was on his face, his eyes were alert. After greeting, his tone carried a formal, mission-oriented quality:
"Headman, this is a letter written to you by Chief Peter."
Makawu respectfully took the letter with both hands and turned to present it to Headman Douning. Douning received it, slightly nodding, his fingers skillfully opening the envelope and unfolding the letter.
The room fell silent except for the sound of rustling paper.
Douning’s eyes scanned the letter back and forth; the lines of his face softened gradually as he read, and finally a rare smile appeared at the corner of his mouth. He lifted his head, his voice steady and clear:
"Since the office shows goodwill, I will immediately release Pias and his attendants for you to take away."
He gently placed the letter on the table, turning to Makawu to give instructions: "Take this reply letter and immediately notify each village, telling them to release the foreign merchants’ agents and missionaries in the village. This time, we are willing to step back first, leaving Peter without words."
Makawu clenched his right fist, crossing his arms in acknowledgment: "Yes, Headman." Then he turned to Bossman, speaking calmly: "Mr. Bossman, please follow me; we are going to receive the people."
Bossman slightly bowed, his expression carrying a hint of relief: "Thank you for your wisdom and tolerance, Headman."
The two turned and left, their footsteps fading, the wooden door softly closing, and the reception hall regained its silence.
Imena looked toward the doorway, her eyes flashing with some relief. She turned to Douning, her tone admiring with a touch of ease: "Sena, your method really works; the office finally revoked the order."
Douning, however, did not show much joy. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed, his fingertips tapping the table, his tone pensive: "No, it is too early. We must wait for the office to officially announce the revocation of the tax order for this matter to be settled. Otherwise… these are merely empty promises."
He paused, gazing at the swaying curtain in the distance, as if anticipating a deeper storm.
"I worry that their concession this time is not because they recognize our demands, but because the hostages are still in our hands. If one day they feel no need to care…," Douning paused, his voice low, "they could turn against us and deny everything."
Imena frowned, her tone now carrying more caution: "If the office’s words are not trustworthy, the villagers of the communities will no longer believe them. They themselves will lose authority."
Douning shook his head slowly, speaking softly: "Authority like that, they do not maintain with trust, but with the military."
He turned his body, eyes sharp, looking through the wall toward Fort Zeelandia in the distance: "The office has the army. If they decide to be forceful and attack… then at that time, a bloody battle between both sides will truly be unavoidable."
Imena’s expression changed slightly, her tone somewhat uneasy: "Surely the office would not do that, right? Peter is willing to make concessions, perhaps to avoid war."
Douning did not answer immediately. He stood, walked to the table, and began writing letters with pen and ink. His voice was low but firm:
"We cannot gamble on ‘it probably won’t happen.’ Imena, I will write several letters. You give them to Makawu, have him deliver them to each village head. Tell them that while releasing hostages, they must also start deploying defensive measures. Appear reconciled on the surface, but remain vigilant in their hearts."
Imena silently nodded, taking the letters he handed over, her gaze steady.
The wind outside intensified, as if a distant storm was brewing. This land, seemingly calm, was in fact surging with hidden currents.

Chapter 12 The Mother-in-law Worries That Her Son-in-law Has Been Placed Under House Arrest

56
In the afternoon, sunlight spilled onto the stone-paved road at the entrance of Madou Village, casting a row of mottled shadows. Makawu carried a rattan mail tube on his back and walked with steady steps to the village entrance. A faint sheen of sweat seeped from his forehead, and the hem of his clothes was stained with some mud from the long journey. As he raised his eyes, he saw Walu, the guard, standing by the cliff beside the entrance, with a squad of spear-bearing men beside him, taking turns on watch.
Makawu slightly adjusted his appearance, raised his hands in a respectful salute, and called out loudly, “Walu, Chief Douning has sent me to deliver a letter. I wish to see your chief.”
Walu lowered the spear in his hand, looked carefully at the visitor, and showed a guarded expression tinged with respect. He nodded and replied, “So it is Makawu. It has been a long time. I will personally take you to see our chief.”
He gestured to the men behind him to relax their vigilance, then turned and led the way. The two walked along a shaded forest path, where the air carried the fragrance of wild ginger flowers and shrubs, and birdsong came from among the dense branches. Along the way, Walu turned his head to glance at Makawu and asked in a low voice, “This time Douning sent you—does it concern something important?”
Makawu nodded, his tone cautious and serious: “It is a reply letter from Chief Peter to Douning, and another letter written by our chief to Chief Maya. The situation has only just eased. Now it depends on whether the various villages are willing to cooperate in response.”
Walu pondered for a moment and asked no further questions, only quickening his pace.
Before long, the two arrived at the main road within the village, passed through a path between stone walls and bamboo fences, and reached Chief Maya’s residence. Outside the residence stood a large house built with black tiles and cedar wood. In front of the door hung a banner woven from animal hides, symbolizing the authority of the village ruler.
Walu lifted the bamboo curtain and made a gesture of invitation. “Please, inside.”
Makawu composed himself slightly, clasped his fists with both hands, bowed, and entered the reception hall. In the center of the hall were animal-skin cushions, and sandalwood incense burned around them, its smoke curling through the air, giving off an atmosphere of calm solemnity and authority. Chief Maya sat upon a couch, dressed in a dark blue embroidered robe. Her expression was stern, and her gaze, sharp as that of a hawk, fixed on the visitor.
Makawu stepped forward two paces, clasped his fists, and said in a low voice, “Greetings, Chief. Chief Douning of our village has sent me to deliver letters.”
He took out two letters from the mail tube and presented them carefully.
Maya accepted the letters, her fingers slender yet strong. She first opened and read the one written by Douning. Her brows furrowed slightly as her eyes quickly scanned the page. Then she opened Peter’s letter and read it more carefully. After finishing, she sealed Peter’s letter again and handed it back to Makawu.
“This letter—you are to take it back and return it to Douning,” she said in a low tone, with a trace of barely perceptible vigilance. “Tell her that I will act according to her instructions.”
Makawu bowed to receive the order. “Yes, Chief. I take my leave. I must also proceed to Sinkang Village to deliver another letter.”
He gave a slight salute, and as he turned, he glanced back once more at Maya. Her expression appeared unchanged, but her hands were folded on her knees, her fingertips moving slightly, as if contemplating matters of great depth.
Maya did not rise. She merely waved her hand. “Travel safely.”
Walu escorted Makawu to the entrance. Only after his footsteps had gradually faded did he return to Maya’s side.
Maya watched as Makawu disappeared among the shadows of the trees, then turned her head and instructed, “Walu, go at once to the assembly hall and release those foreign merchants whom we have placed under house arrest.”
Walu was taken aback and hesitated slightly. “Chief… release them now?”
Maya’s tone was firm. “Since Douning has already made the first concession, we cannot let her bear the risk alone. I do not believe the authorities will withdraw so easily, but if it comes to confrontation, we must at least stand together.”
Walu nodded and clenched his fist heavily. “Understood. I will go at once.”
With that, he turned and hurried away. The bamboo curtain was lifted by the wind and swayed gently in the air, as if it too sensed the coming change. Within the residence, Maya sat alone in silence, her gaze as deep as a valley before nightfall—quiet, yet with undercurrents surging.
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57
Ali’s ox cart jolted forward in the afterglow of dusk and finally arrived at the entrance of Madou Village. The wheels creaked over the gravel, and the horse let out a low whinny, startling a small partridge pecking by the roadside. The wind stirred the spears and rattan shields planted beside the village gate, making them clatter, like the lingering echoes of drums and banners from an ancient battlefield.
Dabangya lifted the curtain of the cart and frowned as she looked ahead. On both sides of the entrance, village guards were already lined up in formation, each holding a long blade, their expressions grave. They wore animal-hide armor, their eyes alert like wolves, and the atmosphere was as tense as a drawn bowstring.
She said softly to Li Qinghua, “Security here is extremely tight. The situation does not look good. I fear something serious has happened.”
Walu stood by the gate. Seeing that the visitors were Chief Dabangya of Chikan Village and her husband, his expression changed, and he immediately waved his hand and shouted, “You—go quickly and inform the chief. Tell her that the Chief of Chikan Village and the Prince Consort have personally arrived at the village entrance!”
“Yes, boss!” The guard clasped his fists to acknowledge the order and dashed into the village, his footsteps leaving deep marks in the yellow earth.
Walu stepped forward a few paces, clasped his hands, and bowed deeply, speaking with respect: “Greetings, Chief. Welcome to the honored arrival of the Chief of Chikan Village and her husband. I did not go out to receive you from afar; I ask for your understanding.”
Dabangya stepped down from the cart and said with a serious expression, “The matter is urgent. We were unable to send word in advance. We hope your village will forgive us.”
Before her words had fully fallen, Kali had already leapt down from the back of the cart, rushed forward in a single stride, and grabbed Walu by the collar, demanding angrily, “Walu, have you lost your senses? How dare you detain Princess Shayun and the Prince Consort! Do you not take our Chikan Village seriously at all!”
Walu showed a look of surprise and quickly raised both hands, speaking sincerely, “Brother Kali, you have misunderstood! The princess and the Prince Consort are treating our people here and are deeply respected. How would we dare detain them? If I have shown even the slightest discourtesy, I am willing to submit to punishment!”
Dabangya gave a sharp rebuke: “Kali, do not be rude!”
Kali was taken aback, released his grip resentfully, stepped back, and said in a low voice, “Yes, Chief.”
Walu straightened his wrinkled collar and made a gesture of invitation. “Chief and Prince Consort, please follow me. Chief Maya is already waiting at the residence.”
He led the group along a small path within the village. Along the way, villagers cast sidelong glances, and children peeked out from behind the walls, secretly observing the visitors from Chikan.
Chief Maya was already standing at the entrance of the residence, dressed in a tribal robe embroidered with white egret feathers, her expression gentle. She stepped forward with a smile and lightly grasped Dabangya’s arm. “Elder sister, why did you come without sending word in advance? I would have prepared tea and refreshments to welcome you.”
Dabangya returned the courtesy, her face showing apology. “It was a sudden decision to come. I feared disturbing you, younger sister. It was truly discourteous.”
Maya invited her inside and asked, “Has elder sister come this time for Shayun and Junsheng?”
Dabangya nodded. “Indeed. They were originally guests in your village and should have had no worries. But recently, due to the authorities’ tax increase, it has triggered coordinated resistance among the tribes. I fear they may be drawn into trouble, so I have come to take them back.”
Maya’s expression darkened slightly, then she reassured her, “Elder sister’s concern is completely understandable. Fortunately, yesterday Elder Sister Douning sent a letter saying that the authorities have withdrawn their order. We have already released Piyas. However, to guard against a possible counterattack by government troops, I have strengthened security.”
Li Qinghua frowned and said, “It seems the situation is still unstable. If Shayun and Junsheng remain here for long, there may be risks.”
Dabangya nodded. “After discussion, we decided to come in person. But we also understand their desire to treat the people. If it is convenient, could we stay to discuss it for one night and make a decision tomorrow?”
Maya said cheerfully, “Of course. Elder sister and brother-in-law, please rest first at the guest house. I will have someone prepare dinner shortly.”
Dabangya said, “But before that, I would like to see Shayun and Junsheng first.”
“They are at the assembly hall treating the villagers. I will personally accompany you there,” Maya said with a smile.
The group followed Maya across the central square of the village and arrived at the assembly hall. The door was not closed. Inside, several villagers were lined up waiting for treatment. Shayun was listening to a child’s chest while softly comforting the mother; Junsheng crouched in a corner bandaging an old man’s foot wound, his expression focused.
Dabangya stood at the doorway, her eyes slightly red, and called softly, “Shayun, Junsheng.”
“Sena! Sama!” Shayun turned in surprise and joy, threw aside her stethoscope, rushed over, and flung herself into her mother’s arms. The two embraced tightly, remaining silent for a long while.
Maya smiled and said, “Elder sister, I have not treated them poorly.”
Dabangya nodded and gently patted Shayun’s back. “It seems you have been doing very well.”
Kali walked toward Junsheng with a grin and pulled him into a hug. “Junsheng, my good brother—Walu didn’t give you any trouble, did he?”
Junsheng patted his shoulder and said with a smile, “What are you talking about? Walu has taken good care of us. He even sent his younger brother Wami to help deliver medicinal herbs.”
Kali laughed loudly. “When Ali came back and said you were detained, I almost rushed over to fight Walu!”
Junsheng laughed. “Your temper is still as impatient as ever.”
Lalu appeared shyly behind the crowd, her gaze resting on Junsheng. “Junsheng, how is that deerskin outfit—does it fit well?”
Junsheng nodded. “It fits very well. Thank you, Lalu.”
Lalu blushed and smiled. “If you like it, when you return to Chikan, I will sew another set for you.”
Junsheng quickly waved his hands. “How could I trouble you again?”
Shayun teased from the side, smiling, “Junsheng, don’t refuse Lalu’s kindness.”
Junsheng paused, then smiled and nodded. “Alright, then thank you in advance, Lalu.”
The light of dusk streamed through the windows of the assembly hall and fell upon them, its warm hue like the affection of a reunited family—calm and gentle.
58
Inside the guesthouse of Madou Village, night had not yet fully fallen.
Outside the window, the chirping of insects did not cease. Bamboo leaves struck against the wall with the wind, producing rustling sounds, like low whispers circling around the ears. Inside the guesthouse, an oil lamp was lit; its yellow-orange glow reflected upon the walls, casting the swaying shadows of several seated figures. Beneath the calm atmosphere, hidden currents stirred.
Dabangya sat upright on a rattan chair before a low table, her brows slightly furrowed, gazing toward the lingering red glow at the edge of the sky outside the window. Her fingers lightly tapped the wooden table, as if setting a rhythm to the anxiety in her heart.
She said in a low voice, “Judging from the situation, if Shayun and Junsheng stay here, for the time being, there will not be any immediate danger.”
Li Qinghua sat beside her, holding a cup of hot tea in one hand. The steam curled upward, yet it could not conceal the चिंता in his eyes. He said softly, “Given our relationship with Maya, she ought to treat Shayun and Junsheng well. Still, I cannot help but worry—if the two sides come into direct conflict…”
He raised his eyes and looked at his wife. “If they remain here, they will inevitably be affected.”
Kali stood by the window, pulling aside a corner of the bamboo curtain, observing the movements in the courtyard. In the night, village guards patrolled back and forth, the blades at their waists glinting with a cold light. His brows were tightly knit. Turning around, he spoke firmly, “Chief, one does not enter a dangerous state, nor reside in a chaotic one. In my view, we should still bring Shayun and Junsheng back, lest complications arise over time.”
Dabangya pondered for a moment. Her fingertips continued tapping lightly on the table, then suddenly stopped. She turned her head to look at Kali.
She said, “Sister Maya, under the pretext of treating the villagers, has requested that Shayun and Junsheng remain. If I firmly refuse, it will make our Chikan Village seem unfeeling and unmindful of past ties. Since Maya has personally guaranteed their safety, let it be for now.”
Kali frowned in dissatisfaction, stepped forward, and spoke with agitation, “Chief, can personal ties be more important than the safety of Shayun and Junsheng?”
Li Qinghua reached out and patted Kali’s shoulder. His tone was gentle yet firm. “Kali, we all care about their safety. But some matters cannot be resolved simply by forcibly taking people away.”
Dabangya spoke with a slight rebuke, her gaze sharp. “Kali, say no more. Let it be so.”
She paused, then her tone softened. “Tomorrow we will first return to Chikan. If the situation between the two sides worsens, we should still have time to come back and bring them out.”
Kali lowered his head and said in a deep voice, “Yes, Chief.”
A silence fell over the room, broken only by the faint flicker of the lamp wick. Dabangya rose and walked to the window, lifting the curtain and gazing toward the dim outline of the village streets in the distance. She said softly, “May this land no longer see the flash of blades and the shadow of blood.”
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59
Inside the administrative office of Fort Zeelandia, the atmosphere was as heavy as iron.
The heavy wooden door was slowly opened by a guard. Piyas and Bossman walked in side by side. On the walls of the office hung sea charts and indigenous maps drawn by the Batavia headquarters. At the center stood an oak table. Chief Peter sat behind it, with Staff Officer Bakel at his side and Operations Officer Blinqi on the other. The three wore solemn expressions, and the candlelight reflected the eagle emblem on their bronze badges.
Upon seeing Piyas, Peter’s eyes brightened slightly. He rose from his chair, and a rare warmth entered his voice. “You have finally escaped safely, Piyas.”
Piyas lowered his head in salute, his voice low but firm. “Thank you for your concern, Chief.”
Bakel crossed his arms and leaned against the table, a hint of self-satisfaction appearing at the corner of his mouth. “Piyas, in order to get the natives to release you, the Chief and I went through quite some effort. The negotiations took much talking, and we even gave them several barrels of gunpowder and bolts of blue cloth.”
At these words, a trace of embarrassment passed over Piyas’s face. He bowed slightly. “I… am grateful for the Chief’s and the Staff Officer’s rescue.”
Peter sat down again, his tone shifting back to official matters. “Blinqi, are all units prepared and in position?”
Blinqi stood at attention, his voice like iron. “All are prepared and in position, Chief. Three platoons are already concealed in the northern forest belt, and two mortars are ready to advance at any time.”
Piyas’s brows twitched, and surprise showed in his eyes. “All units are prepared and in position? Chief, are you going to attack the native villages?”
Peter’s tone was resolute. He pressed both hands on the table and leaned slightly forward. “That’s right! Previously, when you fell into their hands, I held back out of concern for your safety. But that does not mean I condone the unreasonable act of the natives uniting to resist taxation!”
Bossman frowned and stepped forward, meeting Peter’s gaze directly. His tone carried a bold sincerity. “I beg leave to speak. The Chief once promised in writing to reduce the natives’ taxes. Now that promise is unilaterally broken, and troops are being deployed to arrest the chiefs of four villages… I fear this will provoke a full-scale uprising and cause the situation to spiral out of control.”
Peter’s gaze turned cold instantly. Before he could speak, Bakel interjected, his tone mocking. “Bossman, you are too naive. If this farce is not made an example of, which village will not imitate it in the future? We govern a colony, not conduct a contest of friendship.”
Bossman’s expression remained unchanged, his tone turning calm yet resolute. “But going back on one’s word will not only damage the Chief’s authority. The English merchants, the Portuguese consul, and even the Dominican missionaries may side with the natives and accuse us of breaking faith.”
Peter suddenly stood up and slammed both hands on the table, his voice like thunder. “Enough! Every worst-case scenario has already been assessed by the Staff Officer and me. This is a necessary punishment!”
He turned to Blinqi, his tone cold as an iron command. “Operations Officer, within these two days, commence the attack. Capture all four village chiefs without exception and bring them to justice!”
Blinqi responded and accepted the order, clenching his fists as he declared firmly, “Yes, Chief!”
The heavy order fell, and for a moment the room fell silent. The candlelight flickered slightly, as if stirred by distant war drums carried by the wind.
Peter looked toward the deepening dusk outside the door, a trace of determination flashing in his eyes. “This island must eventually know who its true master is.”
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60
At daybreak, the morning mist had not yet fully dispersed. The air was filled with the scent of damp earth and the oppressive feeling of impending war. Around Madou Village, Dutch soldiers formed ranks like an iron wall. Their boots trampled through the wet mud, pressing the ground into dull, suffocating sounds. Several dark cannons were positioned across the village entrance, coldly aimed inward. The metallic sounds of gunners wiping the barrels seemed like a rehearsal of a symphony of death.
Chief Maya stood on a lookout platform behind the village entrance. The wind lifted her cloak and feather ornaments. Her gaze, sharp as an eagle’s, was fixed unwaveringly on the enemy formation in the distance. Beside the platform, Junsheng and Shayun stood shoulder to shoulder, their hands tightly clasped, their expressions grave. Father Matthews paced anxiously back and forth, occasionally raising his head to look toward the front line.
“With an army pressing upon us like this, what does this even mean?” Father Matthews stomped his foot heavily, his voice exploding across the platform. “This is not diplomacy—this is an outright threat!”
Maya clenched her fists and spoke in a low voice filled with frustration. “The Dutch authorities have unilaterally broken their promise. We have clearly fallen into their trap…”
Junsheng gritted his teeth, his fists clenched, his face ashen. “How can the authorities go back on their word? This is a betrayal of trust! I will go out and negotiate with them!”
“Junsheng, I will go with you!” Matthews patted Junsheng’s shoulder, his gaze firm.
Maya turned around and spread her arms to block them. “No! Neither of you must act rashly. I do not want any harm to come to you!” Her tone was icy, her gaze sharp as arrows.
Junsheng stepped forward, almost shouting, “Chief, please let us go! I do not believe those soldiers would truly dare to fire upon us!”
Shayun grabbed Junsheng’s sleeve, her eyes reddening, and pleaded softly, “Junsheng, you must not act impulsively… please…”
At that moment, a Dutch messenger soldier wearing leather armor and bearing a white flag stepped out from the ranks. His face was expressionless. Holding an official document, he stood before the wooden gate and shouted loudly:
“By order of the Operations Officer, I have come to deliver a message.”
Walu, guarding the gate, stepped forward, his brows tightly knit, and took the letter, handing it to a young runner who quickly delivered it up to the platform. The paper was placed into Maya’s hands. She carefully opened it with a bone knife, read it, and her expression changed abruptly.
“The Dutch commander demands that I personally go out and surrender. Otherwise, artillery bombardment will begin in a quarter of an hour.”
She handed the letter to Junsheng. He glanced at it, veins bulging on his forehead, then crumpled it into a ball and threw it violently to the ground, striding toward the edge of the platform.
“This is utterly intolerable! Let me go reason with them!”
“Junsheng, calm down!” Shayun pulled him while standing in front of him. “If you go like this, something will happen!”
Matthews followed closely. “We cannot throw our lives away—we must think of a way…”
“Wami!” Maya shouted.
“Yes, Chief!” Wami and three burly men immediately stepped forward from below the platform, forming a wall like iron to block Junsheng and Matthews. Shayun rushed over and wrapped her arms around Junsheng’s arm.
“Junsheng, do not do anything foolish!” Her voice trembled.
Maya’s gaze swept over everyone. Her heart was in deep turmoil. She turned and looked toward the artillery positions in the distant mist. She knew this was a step from which there was no turning back.
“I cannot let the villagers—and the few of you—be buried with me…”
After speaking, she walked down from the platform, her figure seeming to merge with the earth in the morning mist.
“Wami, keep an eye on them. I will go to the village entrance to handle this,” she ordered in a low voice.
Two warriors immediately followed, escorting Maya toward the gate.
At the village gate, Walu looked troubled, gripping his spear tightly.
“Chief, you must not go out. All of us warriors and guards have resolved to fight the Dutch army to the death!”
Maya replied softly yet firmly, “They have specifically demanded my surrender. I do not wish to implicate the villagers…”
Walu shook his head vigorously. “No! We would rather die in battle than let you face danger alone!”
In the next instant, Maya drew the bone knife at her waist and, like lightning, placed it against her own neck. The blade pressed against her skin, and a bead of blood seeped out.
“This is an order! Walu, if you dare disobey, I will die before the enemy lines.”
Walu’s eyes widened, his face turning pale. “No… Chief…”
His trembling hands pushed open the heavy wooden gate, tears welling in his eyes.
Shayun, Junsheng, and Matthews also rushed to the gate. Seeing it open, they all cried out at once.
“Chief, let me accompany you!” Walu rushed forward a step.
Maya turned back, her tone resolute as iron. “No! You must stay in the village and protect the villagers and the doctor couple.”
In the mist, the villagers stood in silence. Hundreds of eyes watched as Maya’s figure moved away. Step by step, she walked toward the enemy, like a maiden going to an altar of sacrifice.
The Dutch formation slowly shifted to receive Maya. Several soldiers escorted her back into their ranks, and the Dutch army then withdrew, leaving the battlefield in a brief silence.
At that moment, Yimin rushed forward crying, striking Walu’s chest frantically.
“Walu! Why did you let my sena go out? Why did you let her go to her death alone!”
Walu stood motionless, his head lowered, his throat choked. “Princess… it was the Chief’s order… she held a knife to herself. I could not disobey…”
“Yimin, calm down!” Shayun reached out, embraced her shoulders, and pulled her away from Walu.
Walu suddenly raised his head, his tone turning firm. “We must release the carrier pigeons immediately and notify the other three villages. The Dutch army will not stop here!”
Junsheng nodded decisively. “That’s right! We must warn them as soon as possible so they can prepare!”
The mist grew thicker, and from not far in the sky came the faint rumble of distant thunder, like the muffled beating of war drums, foretelling that an even greater storm was about to arrive.

Chapter 13 The Dutch Army Attacks the Various Villages
61
The forest path was damp and muddy. Fallen leaves were crushed under the hooves of horses, and the smell of gun oil mixed with sweat permeated the entire marching column. Dense clouds hung low, like a gray canopy pressing down upon the whole mountain wilderness. A bird call sounded ahead, followed by a fork in the road, where the Dutch army paused briefly.
Staff Officer Bakel held his horse and looked at the branching forest paths, his gaze sharp as a blade. In a cold, hard tone, he said to the accompanying officer, “Anuos, your squad will first escort those prisoners back to Fort Zeelandia. Hand them over to the Chief for personal interrogation.”
Anuos knelt on one knee and gave a military salute. “Yes, Staff Officer!” He immediately turned and gestured to several soldiers. “Quick, take them away!” The bound native prisoners, tied tightly, lowered their heads as they were escorted toward the western path of the fork. Their steps were heavy, and occasionally one or two turned back to look at the open land, their eyes hollow and despairing.
Operations Officer Blinqi rode closer, his fingers unconsciously tapping lightly on the saddle. In an urgent tone, he asked, “Staff Officer, which village is our next target?”
Bakel did not immediately give the order. Instead, he took out a rolled sheepskin map from a leather map case, spread it over the horse’s back, and tapped a spot on it with his knuckles. “Xiaolong Village,” he said in a low voice. “According to Piyas’s testimony, their chief, Douning, is the overall commander of this joint tax resistance.”
Blinqi frowned and murmured, “That will be a tough one…”
Bakel raised his head and let out a cold laugh. “Douning prides himself on his bravery. But if we capture him, the other two villages will, like Madou Village, be seized with fear. To subdue without bloodshed—that is our best strategy.”
Blinqi’s eyes lit up. He clasped his fists and bowed slightly. “The Staff Officer is indeed farsighted, seeing matters as clearly as a mirror.”
“Enough nonsense.” Bakel swung himself onto his horse. His boots struck the horse’s belly, and the animal neighed loudly. “March immediately. Target—Xiaolong Village!”
Blinqi drew his sword, tracing an arc in the air, and shouted loudly, “Messenger!”
The messenger stood at attention. “Here!”
Blinqi spoke word by word, his tone sharp as a blade. “Transmit my order—entire army, forced march, direction north by east, strike directly at Xiaolong Village. The vanguard will lead the assault, and the rear artillery unit will follow closely!”
The messenger acknowledged the order and immediately rode to the rear of the formation. He waved the red-and-white signal flag in his hand while shouting and directing, “Form ranks! Forced march! Follow the vanguard!”
A dull horn sounded, startling the birds in the forest. The entire column resembled an iron serpent, hissing as it rushed into the depths of the mountains. Mud splashed, branches snapped, and hooves thundered like drums. The army’s advance was like an overwhelming storm, sweeping toward the next village.
In the afternoon, the wind murmured low, and moisture crept slowly up from the depths of the valley, enveloping Xiaolong Village. The verdant mountains stood silent. The drums at the village entrance had not yet been struck, yet an indescribable unease was already spreading through the air.
On a distant mountain path, a village guard came running urgently, a white pigeon still perched on his shoulder with its wings not yet folded. He gasped for breath as he stepped into the bamboo-fenced courtyard of the chief’s residence, sweat glistening on his forehead.
“Reporting to the Chief!” Guard A knelt on one knee and presented a small bamboo tube tied with fine hemp cord in both hands. “Carrier pigeon message—just sent from Madou Village!”
Inside the residence, Douning was discussing matters in a low voice with his deputy Makawu. Hearing this, Makawu immediately stood up, stepped forward, took the bamboo tube from the guard, and presented it with both hands.
“Chief,” he said solemnly, “please examine it.”
Douning took the bamboo tube, opening it while his brows tightened. The handwriting on the note was hasty and scrawled, yet each word struck like an arrow.
“So it is…” Douning murmured, his expression changing abruptly, his fingers trembling slightly. “The authorities have indeed unilaterally broken their promise. The red-haired ones have already entered Madou Village. Chief Maya has been taken.”
He tossed the note aside. The slip of paper fluttered twice in the air before falling onto the wooden floor.
Makawu clenched his fists, his voice low. “It seems the red-haired army will soon reach our village… we must prepare for battle immediately.”
Douning took a deep breath and stood up. His robe fluttered slightly with his movement. He walked to the doorway, his gaze sweeping over the distant hills, and said firmly, “Ula!”
The warrior Ula at the door immediately stepped forward quickly and knelt on one knee. “Here!”
“Go at once and evacuate the elderly, the weak, the women, and the children in the village. Lead them along the stream path into the forest of the back mountains to hide. Do not make any sound that might alert the enemy. Do you understand?”
Ula nodded heavily. “Yes, Chief!” She turned and ran out of the residence, her long hair tracing an arc through the air.
For a moment, the room fell silent, with only the distant sound of birds and the wind brushing through bamboo leaves. Douning looked outside, remained silent for a moment, then suddenly turned to Makawu, a rare softness flashing in his eyes.
“Makawu… if anything happens to me, you must protect the princess.”
Makawu was taken aback. Then his brows knit, and he stepped forward, speaking with agitation. “Chief, do not say such things. As long as I am here, I will not let the red-haired ones come even half a step close to you!”
Douning lightly patted his shoulder, his gaze firm. “What you must protect is not only me—it is the future.”
After a brief silence, Douning’s eyes shifted, and his tone changed. “Gather all the warriors at the village entrance square. Prepare to meet the enemy.”
“Yes!” Makawu brought his feet together, struck his chest with his right fist, gave a low shout, then immediately turned and ran out the door toward the center of the village.
The evening light filtered through the treetops and fell upon the village path, enveloping the stone-paved square at the entrance. A confrontation concerning survival and extinction was about to arrive.
________________________________________
63
The afternoon sunlight was obscured by heavy clouds, and the air pressed down so heavily that it was hard to breathe. From time to time, the cries of crows echoed through the forest, as if foretelling an impending catastrophe. The bamboo groves surrounding Xiaolong Village trembled continuously. The village gate was tightly shut. The villagers held their breath in silence, while the warriors were already lying in ambush behind the walls, gripping their spears and bows tightly.
A heavy sound of footsteps came from deep within the mountain path. Dust rose as the Dutch army approached, their red and blue uniforms like blood and fire. Blinqi and Staff Officer Bakel rode at the very front of the formation, their cold eyes sweeping over the village ahead.
Bakel let out a cold laugh and said to Blinqi, “These natives are indeed stubborn. They will not even open the gate, completely different from those at Madou Village.”
Blinqi narrowed his eyes. “They will pay the price for their ignorance.”
He turned his head and shouted, “Messenger, transmit my order—launch the attack!”
The messenger immediately blew the horn. A sharp metallic sound cut through the valley. Several cannons fired at once. With a thunderous boom, the bamboo-and-mud wall exploded into a huge breach. Fragments of mud and bursts of flame flew together, and screams and roars intertwined into a chaotic symphony.
Dutch soldiers surged into the village like a tide. Rifles, bayonets, and spears clashed, and sprays of blood blossomed upon the muddy ground. The yellow-scarved warriors of Xiaolong Village resisted bravely, fighting to the death in defense.
Makawu led a group of warriors in a desperate defense of the chief’s residence, his body already stained with blood in many places. As he swung his spear to block attacks, he shouted to Douning, “Go quickly—I will cover you!”
But in the next moment, a Dutch rifleman hiding behind a wall suddenly pulled the trigger. A flash burst forth. Makawu was shot in the chest. His body jerked violently, and he staggered before collapsing.
Douning turned back and saw this, his expression changing abruptly. Just as he was about to rush forward to save him, two soldiers pounced from the side and pinned his arms down.
Bakel raised his hand and shouted to the entire army, “The native chief has been captured—relay the order, withdraw all forces!”
The messenger blew the horn again. Amid the low, heavy sound, the Dutch army quickly gathered their dead and wounded. While retreating and firing, they dragged Douning toward the village entrance.
Inside the village, amid the flames, Princess Yimena, clad in armor, her eyes reddened, rushed toward the front line with a short bow in hand. More than a dozen warriors followed behind her.
At a glance, she saw Douning being taken away. She raised her bow to shoot, but Ula grabbed her at once.
“Princess, you must not pursue!” Ula tightly held her arm, her expression stern. “The Dutch army has powerful firepower. If they have set an ambush outside the village, any pursuing force will surely die!”
Yimena glared angrily and struggled to break free. “Do you expect me to watch my sena being taken away? Ula, if you are afraid of death, then do not follow—I will pursue alone!”
Ula suddenly stepped in front of her, spreading her arms, her voice low and firm. “Princess, can you calm down and listen to me? First, I am a Yellow-Scarf warrior. I have the duty to protect you and cannot allow any harm to come to you. Second, with the Chief in enemy hands, if we rashly pursue, we may put her in even greater danger. Third, if they realize we are pursuing, they may act desperately and harm the Chief. Are you willing to let that happen?”
Yimena bit her lower lip tightly. Tears welled in her eyes. Her fists clenched so hard that her knuckles turned white. “Ula… I am truly worried about her safety…”
Ula’s tone softened slightly. She said gently, “I understand your feelings, Princess. But you must be strong. The Chief will not be killed so easily. They captured her to force us into submission. This is their strategy—they will not act rashly.”
Yimena asked in a trembling voice, “Are you certain… that she will truly be safe?”
Ula placed her hand on her shoulder, her tone firm. “Please trust me, Princess. What we must do now is immediately contact the other villages and work together to formulate a rescue plan. We will bring her back. We will not let her face the enemy alone.”
At last, the princess nodded. She turned her head to look toward the distant mountain path. The Dutch army had already retreated into the forest, leaving behind only scorched earth and ruins.
A light rain began to fall from the sky, as if quietly weeping for the fallen Makawu and for Douning, who had been taken away.

Chapter 13 The Dutch Army Attacks the Various Villages
61
The forest path was damp and muddy. Fallen leaves were crushed under the hooves of horses, and the smell of gun oil mixed with sweat permeated the entire marching column. Dense clouds hung low, like a gray canopy pressing down upon the whole mountain wilderness. A bird call sounded ahead, followed by a fork in the road, where the Dutch army paused briefly.
Staff Officer Bakel held his horse and looked at the branching forest paths, his gaze sharp as a blade. In a cold, hard tone, he said to the accompanying officer, “Anuos, your squad will first escort those prisoners back to Fort Zeelandia. Hand them over to the Chief for personal interrogation.”
Anuos knelt on one knee and gave a military salute. “Yes, Staff Officer!” He immediately turned and gestured to several soldiers. “Quick, take them away!” The bound native prisoners, tied tightly, lowered their heads as they were escorted toward the western path of the fork. Their steps were heavy, and occasionally one or two turned back to look at the open land, their eyes hollow and despairing.
Operations Officer Blinqi rode closer, his fingers unconsciously tapping lightly on the saddle. In an urgent tone, he asked, “Staff Officer, which village is our next target?”
Bakel did not immediately give the order. Instead, he took out a rolled sheepskin map from a leather map case, spread it over the horse’s back, and tapped a spot on it with his knuckles. “Xiaolong Village,” he said in a low voice. “According to Piyas’s testimony, their chief, Douning, is the overall commander of this joint tax resistance.”
Blinqi frowned and murmured, “That will be a tough one…”
Bakel raised his head and let out a cold laugh. “Douning prides himself on his bravery. But if we capture him, the other two villages will, like Madou Village, be seized with fear. To subdue without bloodshed—that is our best strategy.”
Blinqi’s eyes lit up. He clasped his fists and bowed slightly. “The Staff Officer is indeed farsighted, seeing matters as clearly as a mirror.”
“Enough nonsense.” Bakel swung himself onto his horse. His boots struck the horse’s belly, and the animal neighed loudly. “March immediately. Target—Xiaolong Village!”
Blinqi drew his sword, tracing an arc in the air, and shouted loudly, “Messenger!”
The messenger stood at attention. “Here!”
Blinqi spoke word by word, his tone sharp as a blade. “Transmit my order—entire army, forced march, direction north by east, strike directly at Xiaolong Village. The vanguard will lead the assault, and the rear artillery unit will follow closely!”
The messenger acknowledged the order and immediately rode to the rear of the formation. He waved the red-and-white signal flag in his hand while shouting and directing, “Form ranks! Forced march! Follow the vanguard!”
A dull horn sounded, startling the birds in the forest. The entire column resembled an iron serpent, hissing as it rushed into the depths of the mountains. Mud splashed, branches snapped, and hooves thundered like drums. The army’s advance was like an overwhelming storm, sweeping toward the next village.
In the afternoon, the wind murmured low, and moisture crept slowly up from the depths of the valley, enveloping Xiaolong Village. The verdant mountains stood silent. The drums at the village entrance had not yet been struck, yet an indescribable unease was already spreading through the air.
On a distant mountain path, a village guard came running urgently, a white pigeon still perched on his shoulder with its wings not yet folded. He gasped for breath as he stepped into the bamboo-fenced courtyard of the chief’s residence, sweat glistening on his forehead.
“Reporting to the Chief!” Guard A knelt on one knee and presented a small bamboo tube tied with fine hemp cord in both hands. “Carrier pigeon message—just sent from Madou Village!”
Inside the residence, Douning was discussing matters in a low voice with his deputy Makawu. Hearing this, Makawu immediately stood up, stepped forward, took the bamboo tube from the guard, and presented it with both hands.
“Chief,” he said solemnly, “please examine it.”
Douning took the bamboo tube, opening it while his brows tightened. The handwriting on the note was hasty and scrawled, yet each word struck like an arrow.
“So it is…” Douning murmured, his expression changing abruptly, his fingers trembling slightly. “The authorities have indeed unilaterally broken their promise. The red-haired ones have already entered Madou Village. Chief Maya has been taken.”
He tossed the note aside. The slip of paper fluttered twice in the air before falling onto the wooden floor.
Makawu clenched his fists, his voice low. “It seems the red-haired army will soon reach our village… we must prepare for battle immediately.”
Douning took a deep breath and stood up. His robe fluttered slightly with his movement. He walked to the doorway, his gaze sweeping over the distant hills, and said firmly, “Ula!”
The warrior Ula at the door immediately stepped forward quickly and knelt on one knee. “Here!”
“Go at once and evacuate the elderly, the weak, the women, and the children in the village. Lead them along the stream path into the forest of the back mountains to hide. Do not make any sound that might alert the enemy. Do you understand?”
Ula nodded heavily. “Yes, Chief!” She turned and ran out of the residence, her long hair tracing an arc through the air.
For a moment, the room fell silent, with only the distant sound of birds and the wind brushing through bamboo leaves. Douning looked outside, remained silent for a moment, then suddenly turned to Makawu, a rare softness flashing in his eyes.
“Makawu… if anything happens to me, you must protect the princess.”
Makawu was taken aback. Then his brows knit, and he stepped forward, speaking with agitation. “Chief, do not say such things. As long as I am here, I will not let the red-haired ones come even half a step close to you!”
Douning lightly patted his shoulder, his gaze firm. “What you must protect is not only me—it is the future.”
After a brief silence, Douning’s eyes shifted, and his tone changed. “Gather all the warriors at the village entrance square. Prepare to meet the enemy.”
“Yes!” Makawu brought his feet together, struck his chest with his right fist, gave a low shout, then immediately turned and ran out the door toward the center of the village.
The evening light filtered through the treetops and fell upon the village path, enveloping the stone-paved square at the entrance. A confrontation concerning survival and extinction was about to arrive.
________________________________________
63
The afternoon sunlight was obscured by heavy clouds, and the air pressed down so heavily that it was hard to breathe. From time to time, the cries of crows echoed through the forest, as if foretelling an impending catastrophe. The bamboo groves surrounding Xiaolong Village trembled continuously. The village gate was tightly shut. The villagers held their breath in silence, while the warriors were already lying in ambush behind the walls, gripping their spears and bows tightly.
A heavy sound of footsteps came from deep within the mountain path. Dust rose as the Dutch army approached, their red and blue uniforms like blood and fire. Blinqi and Staff Officer Bakel rode at the very front of the formation, their cold eyes sweeping over the village ahead.
Bakel let out a cold laugh and said to Blinqi, “These natives are indeed stubborn. They will not even open the gate, completely different from those at Madou Village.”
Blinqi narrowed his eyes. “They will pay the price for their ignorance.”
He turned his head and shouted, “Messenger, transmit my order—launch the attack!”
The messenger immediately blew the horn. A sharp metallic sound cut through the valley. Several cannons fired at once. With a thunderous boom, the bamboo-and-mud wall exploded into a huge breach. Fragments of mud and bursts of flame flew together, and screams and roars intertwined into a chaotic symphony.
Dutch soldiers surged into the village like a tide. Rifles, bayonets, and spears clashed, and sprays of blood blossomed upon the muddy ground. The yellow-scarved warriors of Xiaolong Village resisted bravely, fighting to the death in defense.
Makawu led a group of warriors in a desperate defense of the chief’s residence, his body already stained with blood in many places. As he swung his spear to block attacks, he shouted to Douning, “Go quickly—I will cover you!”
But in the next moment, a Dutch rifleman hiding behind a wall suddenly pulled the trigger. A flash burst forth. Makawu was shot in the chest. His body jerked violently, and he staggered before collapsing.
Douning turned back and saw this, his expression changing abruptly. Just as he was about to rush forward to save him, two soldiers pounced from the side and pinned his arms down.
Bakel raised his hand and shouted to the entire army, “The native chief has been captured—relay the order, withdraw all forces!”
The messenger blew the horn again. Amid the low, heavy sound, the Dutch army quickly gathered their dead and wounded. While retreating and firing, they dragged Douning toward the village entrance.
Inside the village, amid the flames, Princess Yimena, clad in armor, her eyes reddened, rushed toward the front line with a short bow in hand. More than a dozen warriors followed behind her.
At a glance, she saw Douning being taken away. She raised her bow to shoot, but Ula grabbed her at once.
“Princess, you must not pursue!” Ula tightly held her arm, her expression stern. “The Dutch army has powerful firepower. If they have set an ambush outside the village, any pursuing force will surely die!”
Yimena glared angrily and struggled to break free. “Do you expect me to watch my sena being taken away? Ula, if you are afraid of death, then do not follow—I will pursue alone!”
Ula suddenly stepped in front of her, spreading her arms, her voice low and firm. “Princess, can you calm down and listen to me? First, I am a Yellow-Scarf warrior. I have the duty to protect you and cannot allow any harm to come to you. Second, with the Chief in enemy hands, if we rashly pursue, we may put her in even greater danger. Third, if they realize we are pursuing, they may act desperately and harm the Chief. Are you willing to let that happen?”
Yimena bit her lower lip tightly. Tears welled in her eyes. Her fists clenched so hard that her knuckles turned white. “Ula… I am truly worried about her safety…”
Ula’s tone softened slightly. She said gently, “I understand your feelings, Princess. But you must be strong. The Chief will not be killed so easily. They captured her to force us into submission. This is their strategy—they will not act rashly.”
Yimena asked in a trembling voice, “Are you certain… that she will truly be safe?”
Ula placed her hand on her shoulder, her tone firm. “Please trust me, Princess. What we must do now is immediately contact the other villages and work together to formulate a rescue plan. We will bring her back. We will not let her face the enemy alone.”
At last, the princess nodded. She turned her head to look toward the distant mountain path. The Dutch army had already retreated into the forest, leaving behind only scorched earth and ruins.
A light rain began to fall from the sky, as if quietly weeping for the fallen Makawu and for Douning, who had been taken away.
66
The ox cart creaked as it slowly moved along the narrow dirt road, its wheels sinking deeply into the damp earth. The night gradually deepened, and moonlight threaded through the trees, casting mottled patches of light and shadow that swayed with the movement of the cart. From time to time, the croaking of frogs and the cries of night birds drifted across the grass, making the surroundings seem especially tranquil. However, this tranquility could not conceal the anxiety and urgency in people’s hearts.
Under Wula’s guidance, Junsheng and his wife, together with Wami, carried the necessary medicines and hurried toward Xiaolong Village. As the ox cart entered the village entrance, the guards ahead had already noticed the movement. A villager guard ran over in haste to report, and soon afterward, Yimena and several guards arrived at the scene.
Yimena stood beneath the moonlight, her figure appearing tall and resolute. When she saw the approaching cart, she immediately quickened her pace and went forward with a trace of urgency on her face. Her shoes stepped lightly on the dirt, making faint sounds. When she reached them, she dropped to one knee, her slightly breathless voice carried by the wind. Lowering her head, she spoke in a firm and urgent tone, “Doctor, we have more than a dozen wounded. Several are in critical condition. Please do your utmost to save them.”
Junsheng hurried forward and gently supported the princess by her shoulders. His palms were slightly damp with sweat, yet his tone remained steady. “Princess, please rise. We will do everything we can to save the wounded.” He gently helped her to her feet, deep concern evident in his eyes.
Yimena nodded slightly, then turned and led the group toward the assembly hall. Her steps were somewhat hurried, yet each step revealed her determination. Junsheng and Shayun followed behind, while Wami and Wula carried the medicines, keeping close pace.
When the group arrived at the assembly hall, the interior was dimly lit, and the atmosphere was heavy. The air was filled with the smell of medicinal herbs and blood, and the wooden structures around creaked faintly in the wind. Several injured villagers lay on the ground, groaning in pain, while those gathered around them all wore anxious expressions.
Junsheng entered the room, observed the situation, and softly said to Shayun, “Shayun, I will treat the severely wounded first. You handle the lightly injured.” His tone carried calmness and focus—this was his habit when facing the wounded.
Shayun nodded slightly, then turned to prepare the medicines. Her tone was gentle yet firm. “Alright, we’ll divide the work.”
The couple quickly threw themselves into their tasks, while Wami and Wula assisted them respectively. Wami stepped beside Junsheng and carefully opened a box containing various instruments. He picked up a surgical kit and handed it to Junsheng with caution, his voice tinged with nervousness. “Here you are, Doctor.”
Junsheng took the surgical kit, quickly checked the instruments inside, and nodded to Wami. “Thank you, Wami.” His tone was steady. He then focused and began performing surgery on a severely wounded patient. The blade flashed—despite the critical situation, every one of his movements was precise and decisive.
Meanwhile, Shayun was applying medicine and bandaging another patient. Her hands moved skillfully and gently. Wula stood beside her, lightly supporting the upper body of the injured man and assisting her in completing the bandaging. Wula’s hands held the patient steadily, her gaze focused, her face filled with a sense of responsibility. “Alright, Shayun, please be careful,” she reminded softly.
Shayun smiled slightly, signaling her to maintain the patient’s position, then lowered her head and continued working. Her movements were graceful yet resolute, occasionally smoothing the bandages with her fingers. Her eyes were full of concentration—each movement was like a race against time.
Not far away, Yimena stood with several guards and the families of the wounded, forming a circle. Their eyes revealed anxiety and hope. Some spoke in low voices, while others prayed silently. Yimena stood among them, occasionally looking toward Junsheng and his wife, her gaze filled with gratitude and expectation, yet also with uncontrollable worry.
In this tense atmosphere, only the busy figures in the room and the occasional soft exchanges broke the silence. Everyone was doing their utmost in their respective roles. Whether it was the doctors providing treatment or Yimena standing by in support, each person was giving their all for those wounded who stood on the brink between life and death.
________________________________________
67
Inside the reception room of the Dominican church in Provintia, candlelight cast mottled shadows upon the old wooden furniture, and the air was filled with the scent of wood and faint candle smoke. The atmosphere in the church was extraordinarily heavy—every corner seemed filled with unspoken words and unresolved crises. The crosses on the surrounding walls appeared especially silent in the dim candlelight, like voiceless witnesses listening to everything that was about to unfold.
Matthews stood before a long table, his brows deeply furrowed, his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes revealing both intense चिंता and determination. He lowered his head slightly, his tone filled with strong concern as he said, “Bishop, you must step forward. Do not let the situation escalate further.” He stood upright, his lips trembling slightly, clearly under considerable pressure.
Bishop Ganchis sat at one end of the long table, his expression dark, his face filled with anger and dissatisfaction. The candlelight illuminated his stern features, making them appear even more severe. His hands were crossed on the table as he leaned forward slightly, his tone full of irritation. “That old fox Peter is outrageous—he deceived us and directly sent troops into the villages to arrest people, deliberately making the situation uncontrollable.” He snorted coldly, a flash of anger passing through his eyes. He could no longer tolerate Peter’s actions.
Standing beside him, Pliny frowned slightly. Fully aware of the gravity of the situation, he stepped forward and spoke cautiously yet firmly, “Bishop, I’m afraid this matter must be handled by the Archbishop. Only by applying pressure on the Dutch royal court will Peter restrain himself.” His voice was low, carrying a sense of helpless appeal. He knew that without stronger measures, the consequences would be unimaginable.
Upon hearing this, Bishop Ganchis suddenly stood up, pointing toward the window, his tone impassioned. “Peter broke his word and outmaneuvered us, forcing me to take this step—to write to the Archbishop and lodge a formal complaint.” He paced a couple of steps, appearing anxious and restless, anger burning in his eyes. “Pliny, go to the merchants’ guild and help me contact Chairman George and Chairman Louis. Tomorrow, we will go to the Governor’s office to rescue the chiefs he has taken, and demand an explanation from Peter.” His voice now carried the tone of a command, filled with determination and unquestionable authority.
Pliny straightened immediately and instinctively bowed, showing respect and seriousness toward the bishop’s order. His tone was swift and resolute. “Yes, Bishop. I will go at once.” Without further words, he turned to leave, his steps quick and steady, clearly driven by the urgency of the situation, his inner anxiety visible in every stride.
At this moment, Matthews remained where he stood, his hands clenched tightly, his brows still furrowed, as if still contemplating future plans of action. He slowly walked toward the window and looked out at the night sky. The stars shimmered, yet they could not dispel the heaviness in his heart.
________________________________________
68
On a gloomy afternoon thick with dark clouds, outside the gate of the Governor’s office at Fort Zeelandia, armored musketeers stood in ranks on both sides. Their steel guns gleamed with a cold light still damp with moisture, like iron beasts ready to act at any moment. The three visitors’ figures appeared especially heavy amid the drizzle and oppressive atmosphere.
Bishop Ganchis, clad in a damp and cold black robe, wore a stern expression as he stepped into the hall, unable to suppress a slight frown. Behind him were two foreign merchant guild leaders—George, slender with sharp eyes, and Louis, bearded and restless in demeanor. As soon as the three entered, they felt a weight pressing upon them like lead.
Inside the hall, Governor Peter stood before a map, his hands clasped behind his back, his expression cold. His attendant hurriedly announced the visitors. Peter slowly turned around, a half-smile on his face, his tone cold yet tinged with arrogance.
Ganchis looked directly at Peter and said in a deep voice, “Governor, I have heard that you sent troops into the four northern villages, captured their chiefs, and engaged in armed conflict with the natives, causing casualties. Is this what you call a peaceful resolution?”
Peter’s lips curled into a sneer. He walked slowly to the table, tapping it lightly with his fingers, and said word by word, “I didn’t expect your information network to be so efficient—to catch wind of this so quickly.”
George could not contain his anger. He stepped forward and pointed directly at Peter’s chest. “Previously, in a public meeting, you promised to resolve the tax resistance peacefully. Yet now you have broken your word and used military force against the natives. If this is not retaliation, can it be called justice?”
Peter turned away, poured himself a glass of wine from the cabinet, and took a sip. His tone was disdainful. “My earlier concession was merely a tactical measure. Have you heard of the Chinese strategist Sun Tzu?—‘All warfare is based on deception.’ I never promised that there would be no reckoning afterward.”
“What a ‘warfare is based on deception’!” Louis slammed his palm heavily on the table, causing the wine glass to shake and spill a few drops. “Governor, you have made fools of all our merchant guilds. Are you not afraid that this incident will spread to Europe and provoke joint military and trade sanctions against your country?”
Peter shrugged, completely unconcerned. “Sanctions? If they are willing to withdraw, I would welcome it. That way, we Dutch can monopolize the wealth of this land without having to share it with you.”
George sneered, gripping his hat tightly. “You’ve finally spoken the truth. You Dutch have intended from the very beginning to dominate everything, completely disregarding all our merchant guilds!”
Peter leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, his gaze sharp as a blade. “These disobedient chiefs should have been punished long ago. I want them to understand who the true master of this land is.”
At last, Bishop Ganchis rose in anger, his expression stern like that of a judge. “Governor, you have broken your word and acted arbitrarily. If you do not immediately release those four chiefs and restore order at once, I will report this in full detail to the Archbishop of Europe and request that he personally apply pressure on the Dutch royal court to demand justice from you!”
At these words, Peter’s anger flared. He suddenly stood up and slammed the table. “Make it clear—my superior is Governor Putmans of Batavia, not you! Whether it is your Dominican order or the European merchant guilds, none of you will command me!”
The atmosphere tightened like a drawn bowstring. For a moment, the room fell silent. The three exchanged glances, knowing there was no turning back.
Louis gritted his teeth. “Since you believe you can dominate everything here, we will bring this matter onto the international stage and let all of Europe see your country’s true face!”
Peter snorted coldly and turned sharply to his attendant. “Escort them out! These uninvited guests have said enough.”
Suppressing their anger, Ganchis and the others turned and left. Their footsteps struck the stone floor of the office, each step ringing like a heavy warning bell.
As the door closed, the tension suddenly eased. Peter pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered, “These fellows really know how to spoil the mood. With this continuous rain these days, my joints are starting to ache again.”
At that moment, Bosimen stepped forward and lowered his voice. “Governor, I’ve heard from locals that there is a doctor named Junsheng associated with the Dominican order. His medical skills are excellent. His wife is also skilled in Chinese medicine—many say they are highly capable.”
Peter frowned in thought, then snorted. “But isn’t that doctor always sympathetic to the natives? I’m afraid he won’t help me.”
Bosimen nodded with a bitter smile. “Yes, and he has no interest in money, making him difficult to bribe—let alone force him…”
Peter narrowed his eyes. “Is this doctor really that troublesome? Go find him. Try negotiating first—see how many gold coins he wants. If that doesn’t work, I will deal with him personally.”
Bosimen hesitated slightly, but still nodded. “Yes, Governor. I will make the arrangements.”
Peter sat back down, rubbing his knee, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly. He looked out at the rain-soaked sky, his gaze like a blade in the rain—cold and razor-sharp.
69
Chikan Village, at dusk.
The setting sun slanted into Chief Dabanya’s residence, the wooden beams casting oblique shadows in the dim yellow light. A single oil lamp burned in the hall, its flame flickering unsteadily, while the air carried the bitter fragrance of boiling tea and the smoky scent of cured animal hides.
In the center of the living room, before a low table covered with animal skins, Chief Dabanya sat on a couch, her brows tightly furrowed, a letter she had just received clutched in her hand, her knuckles pale. Opposite her sat her husband, Li Qinghua, dressed in a slightly faded blue long gown, calmly pouring tea.
“Master,” Dabanya lifted her head, her tone urgent yet restrained, “I’ve just received news that Xiaolong Village has been attacked by the red-haired army, with many casualties… and Maya of Madou Village has also been taken…” Her voice faltered, her throat trembling slightly. “Should we… bring Shayin and Junsheng back?”
Li Qinghua handed her the teacup while looking into her anxiety-filled eyes, and said in a deep voice, “I suppose by now, Junsheng and Shayin have already rushed to Xiaolong Village, surely to treat the wounded. Those two—especially Shayin, who is soft-hearted—how could they stand by and do nothing in the face of death?”
Dabanya clasped her hands on her knees, her nails digging into her palms, and asked softly, “Then… what should we do? Are we to do nothing?”
Li Qinghua sighed gently, placing the teacup back on the table, his gaze as deep as an ancient well. “If you truly cannot let it go, then send Kali to make a trip. He knows that area well.”
At this moment, the young boy Dalai, who had been standing in a corner of the hall, interjected, “Sena, let me go with him. I want to help too!”
Dabanya frowned and turned to look at her son, her tone stern. “No! You are still young. You should not go to such a dangerous place.”
Dalai stepped forward, fists clenched, his gaze resolute. “But I’m already fifteen! I will listen to Kali and won’t cause trouble.”
Li Qinghua patted Dalai’s shoulder, a trace of approval appearing in his eyes. “Let him go with Kali. It’s also a good opportunity for him to gain experience. The times have changed—men should learn to walk into the storm.”
Dabanya pondered for a moment, then finally nodded, her tone softening somewhat. “Alright… then go find Kali at once. Tell him to prepare tonight and set out tomorrow morning.”
Dalai’s eyes lit up, and he almost jumped with excitement. “I’ll go right now, Sena!”
He turned and dashed out of the hall, his figure swift as a deer. The last rays of the setting sun shone by the doorway, outlining his youthful and determined silhouette.
Dabanya watched her son’s retreating figure, her heart filled with mixed emotions, and murmured softly, “I hope this journey won’t make him see the cruelty of this world too soon…”
Li Qinghua took her hand and said gently, “No matter how chaotic this world becomes, there are some things we can only let him learn on his own…”
70
The evening sunlight dyed the sky over Xiaolong Village red. Cooking smoke slowly rose among the bamboo huts. Outside the assembly hall, voices buzzed loudly as villagers busied themselves caring for the wounded. The atmosphere was chaotic yet carried a tense sense of order.
Ali’s ox cart came to a creaking halt on the sandy ground, the axle groaning and startling a young guard nearby. As the cart cover was lifted, Kali nimbly jumped down, and from behind came faint snoring.
“Dalai, wake up, we’re here.” Lalu patted Dalai’s shoulder.
Dalai rubbed his eyes and sat up, his hair sticking out messily, still drowsy. “Oh… where are my sister and brother-in-law?”
Before he finished speaking, Shayin had already walked over. Her simple clothes were stained with a few spots of blood, her expression weary but her gaze gentle.
“You sleepyhead, your sister is right in front of you.” Shayin smiled as she rubbed Dalai’s hair, her tone filled with comfort and affection.
Kali frowned slightly and said, “The chief was worried about you, so she sent us to come support you.”
Shayin nodded, then upon seeing the wooden box on the cart, she asked in surprise, “Ali, you brought the medicine chest too?”
Ali smiled and wiped the sweat from his forehead. “The chief said you would definitely need it, so we hurried to deliver it.”
A trace of emotion welled up in Shayin’s eyes, and she immediately gave instructions, “Kali, help me unload the medicine chest and carry it into the assembly hall. Ali, come with me to help change the dressings for the wounded.”
Lalu immediately raised her hand. “I’ll help too. Ali, teach me how to do it.”
Ali raised an eyebrow and smiled playfully. “Sure—but don’t be afraid of blood.”
Kali picked up the medicine chest and couldn’t help but smile wryly. “So I’m just a laborer?”
Ali burst out laughing. “If you can’t treat injuries or bandage wounds, what else can you do besides carry things?”
Kali shook his head with a bitter smile. “At least I can contribute some strength.”
Amid laughter, the group walked into the assembly hall. The air was filled with the mixed smell of medicinal herbs and fresh blood, and the dim oil lamps cast mottled shadows.
At that moment, a familiar figure hurried through the crowd—it was Bosimen. His face was full of urgency, and as soon as he entered, he went straight toward Kali.
“Bosimen? What wind blew you here?” Kali raised an eyebrow and asked.
Bosimen replied breathlessly, “If I hadn’t said I came to find the doctor, Wula at the gate wouldn’t even have let me in.”
Kali waved his hand. “You’re here to see a doctor too?”
“Why would I need that?” Bosimen smiled mysteriously. “The doctor is inside, right? I have something urgent to discuss with him.”
Kali’s expression darkened slightly, thinking to himself, “This guy always shows up at the strangest times.”
Bosimen said no more and walked straight through the crowd toward Shayin and Junsheng. Junsheng was bandaging a wounded villager; when he saw Bosimen, he nodded slightly.
“Doctor, let’s talk inside the room.” Bosimen lowered his voice, lightly patting Junsheng’s arm, his gaze firm.
Junsheng paused for a moment, handed off his task to Shayin, and followed him into the inner room. Kali quietly set down the wooden box, tiptoed to the door, and pressed his ear against it.
“Sorry, doctor—lend me your ear.” Bosimen lowered his voice and whispered a few words into Junsheng’s ear.
Junsheng’s expression changed, and he asked in a low voice, “Did the chief really say that?”
Bosimen spread his hands. “Of course. The chief told me to pass on the message—how would I dare alter it?”
Junsheng pondered for a moment, then nodded. “I’ll make some arrangements and come right away.”
Bosimen said, “I’ll wait for you outside by the square, doctor.”
Hearing their footsteps approaching, Kali immediately slipped into the shadows by the wall. Bosimen passed by him calmly. Junsheng, carrying his medical kit, walked quickly toward Shayin.
“Shayin, I need to go out for a while. I’ll be back before noon tomorrow,” Junsheng said as he fastened his straps.
“Where are you going? Do you want Kali to go with you?” Shayin asked with concern in her eyes.
“No need. Bosimen will accompany me,” Junsheng replied calmly, though his eyes flickered slightly.
Shayin frowned but did not press further. She only said, “Then go and come back early.”
Kali then leaned closer and whispered, “Shayin, don’t you think it’s strange that Bosimen showed up at this time?”
Shayin looked thoughtfully at Junsheng’s departing figure. “Yes… but if Junsheng doesn’t want to say, I shouldn’t press him.”
Kali lowered his voice. “I just overheard them mention ‘the chief.’ Could this be some important figure?”
Shayin’s expression changed. “Junsheng… could he be going with Bosimen to Fort Zeelandia to meet that red-haired leader?”
Kali’s eyes lit up. “Now that you say it, it’s very possible! How about I secretly follow them and protect him from the shadows?”
Shayin shook her head. “No. If he finds out, he won’t be happy. And you can’t get into Fort Zeelandia anyway.”
She thought for a moment, then her eyes brightened. “I’ve got it! Take a shortcut to Madou Village and ask Father Matthews to go to the gates of Fort Zeelandia to meet Junsheng. With the priest accompanying him, Junsheng should feel more at ease—and we can also find out what Bosimen is really up to.”
Kali clenched his fist and responded, “Alright, I’ll go right now!”
He strode quickly toward the ox cart, pulled down a long blade from the side, strapped it to his back, turned to nod at Shayin, and then dashed into the twilight.
Lalu came over holding bandages, frowning as she asked, “Shayin, what is my brother up to? Why did he disappear like a gust of wind?”
Shayin replied calmly, “I asked him to do something for me. He’ll be back soon.”
Lalu looked at her suspiciously. “Oh…?”
She turned her head and muttered softly, “Junsheng just left, and then my brother left right after—what on earth are they up to?”

Chapter 14: Junsheng Enters Fort Zeelandia to Meet the Governor
71
Outside Fort Zeelandia, the wind blew in from the sea, carrying with it swirling sand and a faint salty scent. The slanting sunset dyed the towering city walls and the windmills atop the fortress a deep red. Along the ox-cart road, several wind-bent trees swayed in the breeze, and the flags before the city gate fluttered loudly.
Bosimen pressed one hand against the short sword at his waist while leading Junsheng along the dry ox-cart road with the other. From time to time, he looked around cautiously, his expression alert, as if worried that someone might be following them. Junsheng, carrying his medical kit, already had beads of sweat forming at his temples, his heart filled with questions and unease.
Suddenly, a white figure appeared ahead. It was Father Matthews, standing beneath a wind-bent tree, holding a cross pendant in both hands as if praying softly. He turned around, saw the two of them, and immediately walked forward.
Junsheng paused in surprise, stopping in his tracks, and said in astonishment, “Father? How are you here?”
Matthews smiled slightly, raised his brows, and said, “Junsheng, Bosimen is taking you into Fort Zeelandia to see Governor Peter for treatment, right?”
Junsheng gave a wry smile, lifted his medical kit slightly, and said helplessly, “Even you know about this? The news travels faster than the wind.”
Matthews’ laughter carried a note of reassurance: “Your wife is worried about you. She sent me. She said your personality is too straightforward and feared you might suffer a disadvantage in negotiations, so she asked me to accompany you.”
Junsheng sighed softly: “She really is meticulous… very well, with you accompanying me, I feel more at ease.”
Matthews turned and nodded politely toward Bosimen: “Bosimen, long time no see. Are you well?”
Bosimen gave a slight bow and, with his usual half-smiling, insincere expression, said, “Father, I’m the same as always—running errands, writing reports, handling trivial matters for the Governor.”
Matthews replied with a faint smile, “I heard that your Bishop Gansis received a harsh reprimand from the Governor a few days ago and is still fuming in the seminary?”
Upon hearing this, Junsheng immediately looked over with curiosity: “Oh? The Bishop also came to see the Governor?”
Matthews nodded, lowering his voice: “Yes, just two days ago. The Bishop, along with George and Louis, the two guild leaders, specially entered the city to negotiate with the Governor for the release of the four captured female chieftains. But Peter’s attitude was tough—he could hardly be bothered with basic courtesy. The Bishop stormed off in anger. That scene… sigh, it’s unbearable to recall.”
Junsheng frowned and turned his gaze toward the flag bearing the emblem of the East India Company atop the city wall, a shadow rising in his heart: “It seems the Governor clearly responds to softness but not to force. If confronted head-on, there will likely be no room for negotiation at all…”
He turned slightly, his tone becoming lighter: “Perhaps the Bishop did not use the right approach?”
Matthews and Junsheng walked side by side toward the city gate, conversing in low voices. Bosimen lagged a few steps behind, seemingly keeping a deliberate distance.
“I think so too,” Matthews lowered his voice. “This time, Peter is the one who invited you to treat him—he needs something from you. You must make good use of this point. Perhaps… it could bring a turning point to the whole situation.”
Junsheng stopped, smiled faintly at the priest, and nodded, though a trace of determination flashed in his eyes: “On this matter, we understand each other without speaking.”
Matthews gently patted his shoulder and said with a smile, “May the Lord bless you, Doctor Junsheng.”
The three continued forward, their shadows stretched long by the setting sun as they gradually approached the castle shrouded in mystery…
________________________________________
72
In the afternoon, thick clouds hung heavily in the sky. The wind blew in from the sea into Fort Zeelandia, carrying a salty dampness mixed with lingering heat. Bosimen led Junsheng and Matthews across the cobblestone inner road and arrived at the towering council hall. The building’s exterior walls were mottled, and cannons stood on both sides, silently watching over the horizon.
The heavy doors of the hall creaked open. A servant bowed and stepped back. Bosimen took a step forward, straightened his chest, and reported, “Governor, I have brought Doctor Junsheng as requested. This is Father Matthews of the Dominican Order.”
Peter sat at the head of a long table, behind him hung the golden lion emblem of the East India Company. His sharp gaze swept from Junsheng’s feet to his forehead, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes as the corner of his mouth lifted: “I’ve heard your medical skills are quite good. I didn’t expect you to be this young. However, I don’t quite understand—if you’re here to treat me, why must you bring a priest along?”
Matthews remained composed, his tone steady yet firm: “Governor, Junsheng is one of our Dominican Order. I am tasked with ensuring his safety. This is basic respect for our clergy.”
Peter let out a cold laugh and tapped the table: “Father, do you think I would harm him? The entire Fort Zeelandia is under my control.”
Matthews smiled slightly, folded his hands across his chest, and bowed: “I only ask for a clear assurance.”
Peter raised an eyebrow and waved his hand impatiently: “Enough nonsense. Doctor, begin.”
With a gesture, the attendant understood and signaled others to leave. Soon, only Peter, Junsheng, and Matthews remained in the room. The atmosphere grew heavy and oppressive.
Peter removed his uniform, revealing an undershirt and close-fitting trousers beneath. He reclined against a carved wooden chair, legs extended, hands pressing against his forehead, his face showing fatigue. “This old body of mine aches unbearably whenever the weather changes. The joints in my limbs feel as if they are sealed with lead.”
Junsheng approached, knelt halfway before him, and carefully examined his knees and elbows. His hands pressed lightly against the joints, sometimes probing with force, sometimes gently palpating. Peter frowned slightly but said nothing.
“Governor,” Junsheng looked up, his tone gentle yet professional, “your joints show clear signs of wear and deformation. These are typical symptoms of rheumatoid arthritis. From the perspective of Western medicine, there is currently no cure. It can only be alleviated through pain relief and anti-inflammatory treatment, but the progression cannot be stopped.”
Peter raised his brow: “Then what are you here for? Speak plainly—name your price. How many gold coins?”
Junsheng stood up, his gaze clear: “I am not in need of money, Governor. If it were for gold and wealth, I would not have crossed the ocean and abandoned the comfort of a Paris hospital to come to this wilderness.”
Peter narrowed his eyes skeptically: “Then what do you want from me?”
Junsheng met his gaze: “I want you to honor your promises to the people—release those imprisoned female chieftains and fulfill your promise of tax reduction.”
Peter straightened, his voice low: “Do you know who you are speaking to?”
Junsheng did not retreat; instead, he pressed forward, his tone firm: “Of course. You are the military and administrative authority here—the absolute ruler of Fort Zeelandia. But I also know—you need me.”
Peter sneered coldly: “Aren’t you afraid I might kill you?”
Junsheng glanced at Matthews and let out a soft laugh: “Of course I am. But I believe even more in reason. If you truly intended to kill me, you would not have let me enter. You need me.”
Peter suddenly laughed aloud and waved his hand: “Doctor, I admire your courage. Come then—let me see what you are capable of.”
Junsheng nodded, turned, and took out a delicate wooden box from his leather bag. Opening it, a row of silver needles, alcohol swabs, and a pulse cushion were neatly arranged. He helped Peter sit upright and said softly: “Please relax your body and slightly raise your knees and elbows.”
Peter complied. Junsheng first took his pulse, his movements meticulous.
Peter asked curiously: “Is this the Chinese medical method?”
Junsheng smiled faintly: “My wife comes from a family of traditional Chinese medicine. I have learned quite a bit from her.”
Then Junsheng carefully sterilized the needles with alcohol and inserted them one by one into acupuncture points. His movements were decisive yet extremely gentle. Peter frowned at first, but gradually his expression relaxed, and he even closed his eyes.
Matthews stood nearby observing, occasionally nodding in approval.
Half an hour later, Junsheng said softly: “Governor, I will now remove the needles.”
Peter opened his eyes and silently watched. Junsheng removed each needle one by one and disinfected them again.
Peter stood up and moved his joints a few times. Surprise and satisfaction showed in his eyes: “These Eastern methods… are unexpectedly effective.”
Junsheng said, “I will prescribe a traditional herbal formula. Combined with tea therapy and internal medicine, taken daily, it can stabilize your condition. I recommend acupuncture once every three days. After three weeks, we can observe the results.”
Peter nodded: “Good. Come again in three days. Bosimen will fetch you.”
Junsheng shook his head: “No need. I will come on my own, so as not to attract attention.”
Peter cast him a sidelong smile: “Very well. In three days, I hope you will continue to surprise me. As for the condition you proposed—I will consider it.”
Junsheng looked at him directly: “I hope that in three days, I will see those chieftains.”
Peter’s tone turned cold: “That decision is mine.”
He turned and called out loudly: “Bosimen! Bosimen!”
Bosimen hurried in, his footsteps quick: “Governor, your orders?”
Peter said: “Escort Doctor Junsheng back. On the way, stop by the port district and deliver the prescription to a Chinese medicine shop.”
Bosimen nodded: “Yes, Governor.”
Junsheng stepped to the table, picked up a quill, and carefully wrote the prescription. Before the ink had dried, he handed it to Bosimen.
Peter put his uniform back on, adjusted his sleeves and collar, and personally escorted Junsheng to the door.
Junsheng turned and bowed: “Governor, please stay.”
Peter smiled without speaking, watching the three leave as the wind blew through the corridor and the flag atop the walls fluttered gently.
________________________________________
73
Outside Fort Zeelandia, the evening glow painted the sky orange-red. A breeze from the sea carried salty moisture and the lingering fragrance of distant spice markets. Along the ox-cart road grew vast stretches of silver grass and swaying casuarina trees, and occasionally a few herons could be seen standing motionless by the shallow water like statues.
Junsheng, Matthews, and Bosimen were walking slowly along the glowing road. The sound of their footsteps and the faint crunch of gravel were accompanied by the approaching ringing of a cowbell. An old ox cart creaked as it came down the slope. Sitting atop it was a sturdy, dark-skinned man, his sun-browned skin glistening, his coarse shirt soaked with sweat, yet his expression focused as he held the reins—it was Kali.
Bosimen waved ahead with a smile: “Doctor, Kali has come specially to pick you up. I won’t accompany you further.”
Junsheng nodded, looking toward the cart: “Alright, go attend to the Governor’s matters.”
He turned to Kali: “Kali, what brings you here?”
Kali jumped off the cart, patted the ox’s back, and said with a grin: “I borrowed this cart from Amanda of Madou Village—that fellow owed me a favor for a long time. It’s so hot today; I couldn’t bear to have you three walking in the sun like dried fish. Junsheng, Father, please get on.”
Bosimen glanced at the cart and asked expectantly: “Kali, could you give me a short ride as well? I need to go to the port district.”
Kali raised his brow and smiled, patting the rear of the cart: “Of course! Sit wherever you like—as long as you don’t mind the ox being slow!”
The three laughed and climbed aboard. The wooden cart swayed gently. Matthews sat at the back, patting a worn blanket beside him for Junsheng to lean on. Kali took the front, humming a local tune as he guided the ox steadily forward.
Bosimen turned back to Junsheng and said: “Doctor, you really impressed him! I’ve followed the Governor for years, and I rarely see him personally escort someone out like he did just now.”
Junsheng leaned against the side of the cart, resting his hand on the rail, gazing at the darkening mountains: “You mean the Governor personally seeing me off?”
Bosimen nodded, admiration in his tone: “Yes. With his proud temperament, he rarely shows favor to anyone. Unless it is someone he truly values. Otherwise, he would simply wave his hand and have an attendant dismiss the guest—he wouldn’t even bother to say another word.”
Matthews interjected softly, as if holding it in for a long time: “Doctor, about what I mentioned to you earlier… is there any progress?”
Junsheng replied steadily: “The Governor said he would consider it. I could tell—he was serious.”
Matthews frowned: “Hmph, he’s good at saying pleasant things, but he often goes back on his word. You must remain cautious.”
Junsheng turned his head, his gaze clear: “Between him and me, it is a doctor-patient relationship. I don’t believe he would joke with his own pain—otherwise, he would be contradicting himself.”
Bosimen gently shook his head, as if dispelling inner conflict: “Father, I know you are working for the release of those chieftains. Recommending Junsheng to treat the Governor was, in fact, my way of hoping for a turning point.”
Matthews was startled, surprise in his eyes: “Oh? So it was you helping behind the scenes?”
Bosimen smiled and scratched the back of his head: “Yes, Father. I am your friend. Although I work in the government office as a mere clerk, I still know how to be a decent person. You really don’t have to be on guard against me all the time.”
Kali turned his head, smiling: “Bosimen, that’s true. You don’t seem like the others in the government. Those people either flaunt authority or bully the locals—they don’t regard anyone at all.”
Bosimen laughed and patted Kali’s shoulder: “Kali, thank you for treating me as a friend. I’ll remember your words.”
He paused, then looked at Junsheng: “Doctor, in my opinion, the Governor will likely release those chieftains under certain conditions.”
Junsheng nodded: “Yes, your view aligns with mine.”
Matthews asked, puzzled: “Certain conditions? What conditions, Bosimen?”
Bosimen blinked and spoke slowly: “I can’t say for sure, but I understand the Governor’s temperament well. The only possibility for him to release them is… if he wants to make a gesture and present it as a favor to the doctor.”
Matthews snorted, crossing his arms: “Hearing you say that, this Peter really is a difficult man—calculating and hard to read.”
Bosimen raised a brow and smiled: “Father, no matter how difficult a person is, if you stroke him the right way, he won’t bite.”
Matthews paused, then burst into laughter: “Stroke him the right way? Bosimen, that’s quite an interesting way to put it.”
Junsheng said softly: “Father, I actually think Governor Peter is not as inscrutable as others say. His thoughts are quite straightforward.”
Matthews nodded: “Hearing you say that puts me at ease. Ah—the cart has reached the port street. I must go report to the Bishop and explain what happened during this trip. In three days, I will wait at the usual place and accompany you again into the city.”
Kali turned back again, grinning: “What? Junsheng, you’re going to see that old fellow again in three days?”
Junsheng shrugged and smiled faintly: “How could I not? I’m still waiting for the Governor to fulfill his promise.”
Kali smacked his lips and blinked: “Oh? I get it—like your saying: ‘If you don’t enter the tiger’s den, how can you catch the tiger’s cub?’”
Junsheng smiled and nodded: “Exactly—that’s the meaning, Kali.”
________________________________________
74
Night fell, and the mountain wind carried with it the scent of damp grass leaves. In the distance, the tinkling of cowbells rang out as an ox cart slowly made its way along the stone-paved path into the square before the assembly hall of Xiaolong Village. The wheels rolled over gravel, producing a low creaking sound. A pair of old dogs barked twice by the doorway before lying back down again.
Several dim oil lamps hung under the eaves, their flames flickering and illuminating the figures waiting in front of the assembly hall. The first to notice the approaching ox cart was Ali. Squinting his eyes, he shouted loudly toward the interior, “Kali and Junsheng are back!”
No sooner had his voice fallen than the bamboo door of the assembly hall creaked open. Shuyun, Lalu, and several young people rushed out excitedly, their feet kicking up dust from the ground.
“Junsheng—” Shuyun ran at the front and threw herself forward, wrapping her arms tightly around him as if to confirm something from his presence. Her face pressed against his shoulder, her voice carrying emotions that had been suppressed for a long time.
Junsheng was slightly startled, then gently patted her back and said softly, “I’m back. I made you worry.”
Lalu quickly came closer, frowning, and grabbed Kali’s sleeve with one hand: “Brother, where did you two go today? I asked Shuyun, but she wouldn’t say a word and kept avoiding me.”
Kali jumped down from the ox cart, scratched his head, and said with a grin, “We first went to Madou Village to find Father Matthews, and then we rode together to the church at Tayouan Harbor to see the Bishop.”
Lalu crossed her arms, her eyes full of suspicion: “Hmph, liar! What’s so mysterious about seeing a priest? Why make it seem like some secret mission?”
Kali stepped closer and, pretending to be mysterious, leaned near her ear and said, “You can’t lift the lid before the meat is cooked. Little sister, when the time comes, you’ll naturally know.”
Lalu pushed him away at once: “Oh, stop it! What exactly is going on? Why are you still hiding it from me?”
At this moment, Shuyun spoke softly. She walked to Lalu’s side and held her hand: “Lalu, Junsheng has been working tirelessly for this land. Everything he does is for everyone’s future. He is worthy of trust.”
Lalu turned to look at Shuyun, her tone softening somewhat, though her eyes still showed reluctance: “Of course I trust him. What I don’t trust is why all of you keep things from me.”
Shuyun sighed gently and squeezed her fingertips: “When the time is right, I will tell you myself, little sister.”
At this moment, Junsheng also stepped forward and nodded to Shuyun: “Shuyun, later when we go inside, I have some matters to discuss with you in detail.”
Shuyun nodded lightly, her eyes filled with understanding and contemplation. After exchanging a brief look with Junsheng, she turned and led everyone into the assembly hall. The wooden door slowly closed behind them, shutting out the night and the sound of the wind outside.
________________________________________
75
Inside the clinic room of the assembly hall, the faint kerosene lamp flickered unsteadily, casting shadows all around. The flame emitted a light smell of oil smoke, illuminating the worn wooden walls and the old tables and chairs. The window was slightly open, and the night wind outside carried the dampness of the mountains, along with the occasional cries of night birds in the distance. The entire space was quiet and heavy, as if time had slowed down here.
Junsheng sat on a wooden chair beside the examination bed, his hands tightly clasped together, his expression grave, with a trace of fatigue flashing in his eyes. At last, he spoke, his tone calm yet tinged with helplessness: “…That is how everything happened.”
Shuyun stood opposite him, resting one hand lightly on the edge of the table. Her brows were slightly furrowed, her eyes filled with concern. After listening, she nodded slightly, her tone carrying a hint of relief: “It seems that Bosimen is truly our friend.”
Junsheng lifted his head and gave a bitter smile, though the worry in his eyes was still hard to conceal: “These four chieftains… they should be released. It’s just that we don’t know under what conditions Peter will release them.”
Shuyun stepped closer and sat on the chair opposite him, leaning slightly forward, her hands naturally resting on her knees. Her eyes locked onto Junsheng’s face, her tone somewhat urgent: “Peter… he wouldn’t ask you to become his personal physician, would he?”
Junsheng paused for a moment, then gently shook his head, trying to hide the unease in his heart: “That shouldn’t be the case, right? The Dominican Order wouldn’t allow such a thing to happen… I hope so.”
After hearing this, Shuyun looked at him quietly, then reached out and held his wrist. Her tone was gentle yet carried firm strength: “For rescuing these four chieftains, just do your best. But I don’t want you to sacrifice your ideals as a healer. You’ve already done enough for everyone.”
Junsheng looked into her determined eyes, and his heart trembled slightly. He took a deep breath, gently clasped her hand in return, and spoke in a calm yet resolute tone: “I understand what you mean. I will hold that line… no matter what conditions Peter proposes.”
The light of the kerosene lamp flickered between them, casting their intertwined shadows upon the wall, as if time itself had frozen in this moment. The wind outside grew stronger, and the air inside turned slightly colder, yet the trust and understanding between them filled the stillness with warmth.

Chapter 15 Junsheng Rescues the Four Female Tribal Leaders from the Tiger’s Jaws
76
Inside the council chamber of the Tainan Castle Governor’s Office, the air was oppressive. The heavy wooden doors were tightly shut, and only a few large candlesticks emitted faint light, illuminating the surrounding ancient stone walls and the neatly arranged wooden tables. Flags representing military and political authority hung on the walls, and the candlelight cast long, slender shadows across their textures. Outside, the sound of thunder and rain resembled a distant growl, occasionally rolling past; lightning flashed in an instant, further deepening the solemn atmosphere of the chamber. Peter sat on a chair beside the table, his hands clasped together on the tabletop, staring at Bakel, a glint of contemplation flickering in his eyes.
Bakel stood to the side, slightly curling his lips, his tone carrying a trace of disdain: “Sir, what conditions did that doctor propose to you?”
Peter leaned back against the chair, his fingers lightly tapping the tabletop, as if savoring that conversation. His tone was calm yet carried a hint of surprise: “This young man has courage. He actually asked me to release those female tribal leaders.”
Bakel froze for a moment upon hearing this, then let out a low chuckle, his tone filled with contempt: “That Dominican doctor really thinks he’s a savior?”
Peter frowned slightly, a trace of interest flashing in his eyes, and replied in a low voice: “Facing such a doctor—one who neither loves money nor fears death—this is the first time I have encountered such a person in decades of military service. I would rather like to befriend him.”
Bakel stroked his chin, his gaze critically sweeping over Peter. He took a few steps closer and asked in a low voice: “You intend to release those female tribal leaders?”
Peter paused briefly, then nodded lightly, a conspiratorial smile curling at the corner of his mouth: “Yes, to release them under certain conditions.”
Bakel frowned, a trace of doubt in his tone: “What kind of conditions?”
Peter’s eyes flickered. He took a deep breath and spread his hands, his tone carrying undisguised political calculation: “I want them to first sign a document pledging not to defy the Office’s orders. In this way, our objective of raising taxes will be achieved, and we will have an explanation for the Governor—we gain the substance. As for the appearance, we give it to that doctor as a favor flowing with the current.”
After hearing this, Bakel shook his head slightly. A trace of suspicion appeared in his eyes. His fingers unconsciously tapped the tabletop, and his tone grew heavy: “What if those leaders would rather die than submit and refuse to sign the document?”
Peter’s gaze became more resolute. The corners of his mouth lifted slightly, as if he had already devised a response: “That is precisely why I want to befriend that doctor. I believe he will persuade those old women.”
Bakel’s brows remained tightly knit, still doubtful. His voice was low, tinged with uncertainty: “Does that doctor truly have such capability?”
Peter revealed a faint smile and nodded gently, his tone full of confidence: “I have crossed paths with him before. I estimate he has considerable influence.”
Bakel fell into thought. After a moment, he finally spoke: “Very well. As long as we can accomplish the mission assigned by the Governor, I do not mind what method is used.”
A glint of foresight flashed in Peter’s eyes. He leaned forward slightly, his tone becoming low and meaningful: “Befriending this doctor has another long-term benefit.”
Bakel looked somewhat puzzled, frowning slightly as he asked: “A long-term benefit?”
Peter smiled lightly, his tone carrying confidence and strategy: “Yes. With his actual influence at the local level, he will become a Joker for stabilizing the region in the future.”
Bakel suddenly understood. He reached out and patted Peter on the shoulder, his tone filled with admiration: “I understand what you mean, sir. You are truly far-sighted and calculating.”
Peter’s gaze was calm and wise. He then turned back to the documents on the table, his fingertips lightly sliding across page after page, as if everything were under control.
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77
Beside the council chamber of the Tainan Castle Governor’s Office, dim yellow kerosene lamplight streamed in through the window, casting mottled shadows upon the floor. Outside, the sound of rain pattered continuously, and thunder rumbled from afar, like the low roar of nature. Matthews was sitting on a wooden chair in the reception room, his expression relaxed, yet his eyes revealed a trace of vigilance and contemplation. The air carried a damp scent, and this ancient building seemed to bear countless unspoken secrets.
After knocking lightly, Bosmen entered, followed by Junsheng. He carried a rattan wooden case in his hand, his steps steady, his gaze fixed straight ahead. Bosmen said in a low voice: “Sir, the doctor has arrived.”
Junsheng nodded slightly, his gaze sweeping across the surroundings. He gently set down the rattan case, touched the tabletop lightly, opened the lid, and took out the neatly arranged acupuncture case inside. The movement was smooth and practiced, as if every step had been rehearsed countless times. The needles inside the case glimmered faintly under the light. Junsheng’s expression was solemn, and his tone steady: “Sir, I will first perform acupoint massage to allow blood circulation in your joints to flow smoothly, and then I will apply the needles.”
Peter sat on the wooden chair, silent for a moment. His gaze was deep, and a slight smile appeared at the corner of his mouth, as if he had confidence in Junsheng’s ability. He lightly brushed the documents on the table with his hand and spoke slowly: “In a moment, I will have the guards bring out those four leaders. Whether they can be released will depend on whether you can persuade them to sign the written pledge.”
Upon hearing this, Junsheng frowned slightly, and his steps unconsciously paused for a brief moment. He placed the acupuncture case on the table, folded his hands over the lid, and a trace of confusion appeared in his eyes: “A written pledge? Sir, what are you asking them to do?”
Peter’s gaze was sharp. The corner of his mouth lifted slightly as he said in a low voice: “I require that they must not resist any orders of the Office from now on. Therefore, they must accept the previously imposed tax increase.” His tone’s firmness and coldness made the air grow even heavier.
Junsheng frowned, placing the acupuncture needles back into the case. He leaned forward slightly, his tone carrying a trace of helplessness and concern: “If those are the conditions, I fear it will be very difficult for me to persuade them.”
Peter looked at him, his gaze deep, and said in a low voice: “I know you will find a way, doctor. Treat me first, and then we will discuss the rest.”
Junsheng took a deep breath and nodded. He crouched down, gently rolling up Peter’s sleeve to reveal his firm forearm. Peter lay sideways on the chair, his hands resting lightly on his thighs, his eyes closed, a faint expression of relaxation appearing on his face. Junsheng’s fingers pressed gently upon Peter’s shoulders, each touch precisely locating the correct acupoint. His movements were skilled and fluid. Peter’s breathing gradually became even, his shoulders relaxing slightly, as if all pressure and fatigue were slowly dissipating under the massage and acupuncture.
The air inside the room remained filled with moisture. The sound of rain striking the window intertwined with Junsheng’s steady movements, forming a unique rhythm. Peter occasionally inhaled lightly, a faint relaxed smile on his lips, as if he had begun to enjoy this brief moment of tranquility.
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78
Inside the council chamber of the Tainan Castle Governor’s Office, sunlight streamed through the tall arched windows, falling upon the stone floor, where light and shadow interwove. On the walls hung the emblem of the East India Company and several oil paintings depicting maritime scenes. At the center of the chamber stood a long oval wooden table, its surface bearing the dull sheen polished by time. Armed guards stood on both sides, their armor gleaming coldly, the atmosphere stern and tense.
With a heavy creak, the iron door opened. A squad of guards marched in with synchronized steps, escorting four female tribal leaders—they were linked together by iron chains at their ankles. Their steps were heavy, yet they retained an unyielding bearing. Though their clothes were worn, they still preserved the dignity and presence of tribal female leaders. Dou-ning walked at the front, her brows firm. Following closely behind were Wasa, Maya, and Eliza, each with a resolute expression.
Governor Peter Norman sat at the main seat, clad in a deep red velvet robe. His hands were clasped before his chest, and his gaze was as sharp as an eagle’s. He nodded to the adjutant at his side, his tone unquestionable:
“Adjutant, present that scroll of parchment to the four of them for inspection.”
“Yes, sir,” the adjutant replied, stepping forward quickly. From a box in his hands, he took out a finely rolled parchment document and respectfully presented it to Dou-ning with both hands.
Dou-ning reached out to take it. The chains clanged with a sharp metallic sound. She focused on the words on the parchment, her lips gradually tightening, her brows knitting together, her gaze as sharp as a blade.
Peter spoke coldly: “Once you sign the document, I will allow Doctor Junsheng to take you away.”
Before she had finished reading, Dou-ning suddenly flung her hand. The parchment flew to the ground like a long snake released from its sheath, unrolling as it slid. The adjutant was startled and quickly bent down to pick it up, his hands trembling as he gathered it back into the box.
Dou-ning’s voice roared like thunder as she glared at Peter: “You might as well kill us all!”
Wasa immediately leaned closer to Dou-ning, frowning as she asked in a low voice: “Elder sister, what does it say?”
Dou-ning gritted her teeth, almost roaring: “This old scoundrel wants us to unconditionally obey the Office from now on and accept any decision they make!”
Wasa’s anger surged. She kicked over a wooden chair beside her, the legs cracking loudly: “What is this supposed to mean? They don’t even treat us as human!”
Peter remained indifferent and let out a cold laugh: “You are prisoners. You are not qualified to negotiate with me. Doctor, you speak to them.”
Doctor Junsheng stood to the side, dressed in a gray-white robe, his expression solemn. He stepped forward and said calmly: “Sir, under such conditions, I believe they would rather die here than sign.”
Peter’s gaze sharpened: “Is that so? Why don’t you try to persuade them?”
Junsheng replied: “I cannot persuade them, because I know that once they sign this document, their people will certainly not forgive them. They would rather die heroically here than return to their villages to face such disgrace.”
He turned to look at the four leaders, his eyes sincere: “In their hearts, the interests of their people are far above personal honor or shame. Moreover, after they die, a new generation of leaders will soon emerge. Sir, are you prepared to send troops into the villages again, one by one, to capture them?”
These words caused Peter’s expression to change slightly, revealing a brief hesitation. Staff officer Bakel approached him and whispered in his ear. The two spoke in hushed tones for a moment.
Finally, Peter raised his head and said: “Very well. I will make a concession. As for the tax increase, I will grant them a three-year buffer period. After three years, it will be collected in full according to the order.”
Junsheng nodded slightly and walked toward the four female leaders, his tone gentle and low:
“Dou-ning, leaders, the Office is willing to grant a three-year buffer period.”
Chapter 15 Junsheng Rescues the Four Tribal Female Chiefs from the Tiger’s Jaws
Dou Ning pondered for a moment, frowning: “After three years, we still will not be able to afford it.”
Maya stepped forward, lightly placing her hand on Dou Ning’s shoulder: “Doctor, will you have a way to help us solve it?”
Junsheng nodded: “If you switch to raising deer in enclosures, using artificial breeding methods—just like in Chikan Village, the set I personally assisted with. After three years, the tax burden should be manageable.”
Elisa crossed her arms, speaking in a low voice: “But what if they raise taxes again at that time? They are just like vampires, insatiably greedy!”
Junsheng thought for a moment: “This can be made clear with the Chief right here, nail down the clauses. We can also propose conditions in return: from now on, reduce half of our grain tax, to be used for raising deer.”
Washa still remained doubtful, her gaze unfriendly: “Do you think that old scoundrel will agree?”
Junsheng smiled: “If we do not try, how will we know the other party’s bottom line?”
Dou Ning swept her gaze across the three, nodding: “Alright, sisters, let the doctor go and negotiate.”
Junsheng returned to Peter, his expression serious: “Chief, the leaders are willing to accept a three-year buffer period, but they also have conditions.”
Peter raised an eyebrow: “I have already made concessions, and they still want to bargain?”
Junsheng stepped forward, leaned close to Peter’s ear, and spoke softly for a while.
Peter narrowed his eyes halfway, and after listening, he snorted coldly: “This should be your idea, right?”
Junsheng smiled: “You could say so. Chief, the Han people have a fable called ‘killing the chicken to take the eggs.’ You have heard of it, right?”
Peter nodded: “I have indeed heard of it. You mean… you want me to leave them some leeway?”
Junsheng: “Exactly. What you want are deer hides and velvet antlers. If you let them retain their grain, they can raise deer and have goods to pay taxes. If the quality improves, reselling to Europe, Japan, or Ming will benefit both sides.”
Peter finally revealed a faint smile: “Doctor, you not only know how to treat people, you also know how to talk business.”
“You flatter me, Chief.”
Peter raised his hand: “Then we shall proceed as you said. Adjutant, bring that document over and revise it according to the doctor’s suggestions.”
“Yes, Chief.” The adjutant walked toward Junsheng, and the two came to one side of the long table.
Junsheng pointed at the document: “Add here: ‘The official party agrees that the effective starting date of the aforementioned tax increase clause shall be calculated from three years after both parties have signed.’”
The adjutant lifted his pen to write, the ink seeping into the parchment, forming clear characters.
Junsheng added: “Add another sentence: ‘The official party agrees that, from the date of signing, half of the grain tax of the civilian party shall be reduced.’”
The adjutant wrote again and nodded in acknowledgment.
The document was handed to Peter. He glanced through it once and nodded: “So be it.”
The parchment scroll was handed to Dou Ning. She glanced at her three sisters, and the four signed in sequence at the lower left corner, pressing their fingerprints. As their gazes met, there was a trace of silent encouragement and comfort.
Peter stood up and waved his hand: “Alright, Doctor, Father Matthews, you may take them away!”
The guards immediately unlocked the shackles on their feet, the clanking sound like the ringing of freedom. Junsheng and Father Matthews, dressed in a white robe, stood on the left and right, supporting the four female chiefs as they slowly walked out of the council chamber. Sunlight fell upon their shoulders, and the lingering echo of iron chains trailed behind them, resonating for a long time within the stone corridor.
79
The towering red-brick walls of Fort Zeelandia glowed with a copper-rust hue in the morning light. The iron-cast gate creaked open slowly with a “creak.” Outside the gate, a salty sea breeze blew in, stirring the hanging flags on the gate and lifting fine dust from the ground.
Junsheng and Father Matthews stood on either side, supporting the four female chiefs whose steps were unsteady, as they slowly walked out of the city gate. Though their faces were weary and haggard, their eyes shone with the resilience of having endured the storm.
In the distance, a wooden ox cart pulled by a gray water buffalo was parked beside the gravel path leading to Chikan Village. The cart was lined with thick hay and several blankets. Ali held the reins tightly, standing beside the cart and looking out. Kali stood at one side of the cart; when he saw Junsheng and the others emerge from the gate, he immediately called out:
“They’re out! Junsheng and the others are out! Ali, drive the cart over!”
Ali responded: “Got it, brother!” He pulled the reins, and with a “moo,” the ox cart slowly moved forward, its wheels rolling over the stones with a clattering sound.
Junsheng turned his head and said in a low voice: “Kali, Ali, come quickly and help, let’s get them onto the cart together.”
“Coming, Junsheng!” Kali stepped forward quickly, crouched down, and helped Dou Ning up. Noticing her knees trembling slightly, he quickly supported her waist with one hand and grasped her arm with the other, softly saying: “Chief, be careful.”
“Thank you, young man.” Dou Ning smiled weakly, but tears shimmered at the corners of her eyes.
Ali walked up to Washa and extended his strong arms: “Come, I’ll help you up.”
Washa stubbornly tried to stand straight, but her legs gave way and she nearly knelt. Ali quickly caught her: “Ah, you’ve suffered a lot these days, haven’t you? Don’t push yourself!”
She gritted her teeth, nodded, and leaned on him as she slowly climbed onto the cart.
Matthews supported Elisa while softly reciting a prayer: “May the Lord bless you, to walk out of the cage and toward the light.”
After Maya sat on the cart, she hugged her knees and looked at the receding walls of Fort Zeelandia, murmuring: “What a nightmare, Father…”
Matthews sat beside her and gently patted her shoulder: “It is all over, Chief. Your courage will be remembered by the Lord.”
Junsheng checked Dou Ning’s pulse and then used the back of his hand to test her forehead temperature, saying gently: “The four chiefs have suffered greatly these past days, their bodies are still weak, but after returning to the village and recuperating for a few days, they should recover.”
Dou Ning nodded, looking at him with gratitude: “Doctor, thank you. If not for you, we might never have walked out of that gate again.”
Junsheng smiled and lowered his head to pack up his small cloth bundle: “This is what I am capable of doing. I only hope these efforts can allow the villages to safely get through the next three years.”
“We will remember you,” Elisa said softly.
The wooden ox cart creaked along toward the distant path. Bits of hay fluttered in the air, and streaks of light filtered through the tree shadows, falling upon the weary faces of the four chiefs. The wind gently stirred their hair, dispersing the smell of rust upon them, and bringing with it the breath of freedom.
80
At dusk, the afterglow slanted across the hills of Sinkang Village, golden-red light dyeing the treetops with a flame-like color. The ox cart slowly traveled along the winding dirt path, its wheels rolling over gravel and fallen leaves with creaking sounds. The ox snorted heavily from time to time, flicking its tail to drive away circling mosquitoes.
In the distance, the ceremonial archway at the entrance of Sinkang Village stood in the glow of sunset. Totems weathered by time were carved into the stone pillars on both sides. Beneath the arch stood elders such as Luban and Abu, while Amanda, Meifu, and Dabis had already been waiting for a long time, their expressions filled with worry and anticipation.
Suddenly, Amanda’s sharp eyes caught sight of them. She pointed forward in delight: “It’s them—it’s the ox cart! Chiefs, the chiefs are back!” Her voice trembled as she ran to the center of the archway.
Dabis turned and ran, saying as he went: “I’ll go strike the gong and let everyone know!”
Panting, he rushed to the ritual house, grabbed the large bronze gong hanging on the wall, and struck it hard—
“Clang—clang-clang—clang—”
The sound of the gong pierced through the dusk air, startling birds into flight and stirring the village into commotion. Several women returning from the stream with water pails, upon hearing the gong, did not even bother to set down their buckets properly. Children ran to inform their parents, the elderly leaned on canes, and the young supported the old. In an instant, the entire village seemed awakened by the sound of the gong, gathering toward the entrance.
While striking the gong, Dabis shouted loudly: “The chiefs have returned safely! The ox cart has arrived at the village entrance—those who are free, come and welcome them!”
In no time, the entrance was filled with tribespeople. In their eyes were joy, tears, and the final settling of long-held anxiety.
“Everyone, make way, the ox cart is coming in!” Amanda waved her hands, directing the crowd, her voice urgent yet joyful.
The ox cart rolled slowly forward through the afterglow. Kali and Ali stood on either side, carefully supporting Elisa as she stepped down from the cart. As her foot touched the ground, she staggered slightly; Ali quickly steadied her elbow and asked in a low voice: “Chief, can you still hold on?”
Elisa smiled faintly. Though pale and weak, her gaze was firm: “I can. I want to see our people as soon as possible.”
Amanda immediately stepped forward, gently embracing her shoulders, her eyes already reddening: “Chief, you have truly returned…”
Two village guards quickly took over the remaining chiefs, helping them down one by one. The tribespeople voluntarily made way, softly calling out: “Chief, you’ve suffered!” “May the ancestral spirits bless you!”
At this moment, Ali took a cloth bundle from the cart and handed it to Amanda: “This is the Chinese herbal tonic prescription that Doctor Junsheng instructed. According to the prescription, decoct two doses every morning and evening for the chiefs, to help them replenish their energy and recover.”
Amanda received the bundle with both hands, repeatedly saying: “Ali, Kali, thank you so much. Please come into the village and have a bowl of meat soup, let all our people properly express our gratitude.”
Kali smiled and shook his head, patting the dust off his clothes: “We still have to hurry to Madou Village, so we won’t delay. Give our regards to everyone.”
“Won’t you really stay for a meal?” Elder Abu also urged.
Ali nodded respectfully to them one by one: “We will come visit another day. We will remember this kindness.”
Having said that, he turned, pulled the rope at the ox’s head, skillfully turning the cart around. Kali leaped onto the cart bed, sat steady, and waved his hand. The ox let out a “moo,” and the wheels once again rolled over the stones, heading slowly toward the northwest.
The villagers stood on both sides of the entrance, waving them off. Children jumped and shouted: “Goodbye! Brother Kali! Brother Ali!” The elderly clasped their hands together in silent prayer. Under the setting sun, the ox cart moved farther and farther away, its silhouette interwoven with the glowing sky, like a miracle that had just ended yet had not yet faded.

Chapter 16 Junsheng Returns to Chikan Village in Triumph
81
The setting sun dyed the sky of Xiaolong Village red, the clouds layered like flames, reflecting upon the wide plaza in front of the assembly hall. The stone slabs on the ground still held the residual heat of sunset. A gentle breeze blew past, stirring the woven banners hanging around the plaza, producing a rustling sound.
Ali’s ox cart slowly drove in under the crowding of the tribespeople. The wheels rolled over the stone path at the edge of the plaza, producing a low, rhythmic sound—“creak, creak,” like the response of an ancient ritual. The tribespeople had already formed a semicircle, their expressions solemn yet filled with anticipation.
Before the ox cart had even fully stopped, Wula excitedly waved his arms and shouted loudly: “The chief is back! Chief Dou Ning has returned safely!”
The crowd instantly burst into cheers. Some clapped, some raised both hands to the sky in gratitude to the ancestral spirits, and some children ran about reporting to the elders.
On the ox cart, Dou Ning stood up, somewhat fatigued, while Junsheng carefully supported her. Though her face was pale, her eyes were firm as she slowly waved to the tribespeople. The crowd immediately quieted, their eyes filled with respect and excitement.
Wula and two village guards quickly stepped forward. One supported Dou Ning’s arm, and another guarded behind her, softly saying: “Chief, be careful of the steps.”
As soon as Dou Ning’s foot touched the ground, she was somewhat unsteady. Wula held her tightly, and she nodded lightly in thanks.
At this moment, Princess Yimeina rushed through the crowd, her eyes reddened, and threw herself into her mother’s arms: “Mother… I was so afraid I would never see you again…”
Dou Ning gently stroked her daughter’s hair and comforted her softly: “Silly child, I told you, I would come back.”
Mother and daughter embraced for a long time. The surrounding tribespeople were all deeply moved, many already having tears in their eyes.
With Wula’s support, Dou Ning slowly walked into the assembly hall. Inside, the atmosphere was quiet and solemn. A faint herbal fragrance burned within the room, and light streamed down through gaps in the roof, laying layers of soft glow across the beds.
Several injured village guards lay on beds covered with woven mats. Nearby tribespeople were changing bandages or bringing soup and water. Junsheng and Shayun followed closely behind the whole way.
Dou Ning walked to the first bed, crouched down, and gently held the hand of a young village guard. Her eyes were filled with apology and emotion.
“The wound… does it still hurt?” she asked softly, her voice slightly trembling.
The guard, though still showing fatigue on his face, forced a smile and shook his head: “Chief, I am much better. The doctor’s medicine is very effective. I am recovering quickly, and it does not hurt much anymore.”
Hearing this, tears shimmered in Dou Ning’s eyes. She gently stroked the guard’s forehead, her voice choked: “It is all because of me… that you have suffered so much… if I had not fallen into the enemy’s hands…”
The guard hurriedly sat up slightly, grasped her hand tightly, and said firmly: “Chief, please do not say that. To protect the village is our responsibility passed down through generations. If we can shed blood for you and for this village, it is our honor.”
The room instantly fell silent. Hearing these words, everyone lowered their heads, their eyes reddened.
Shayun softly said: “Chief, everyone has been waiting for your safe return… You are not only our leader, but also our heart.”
Dou Ning nodded gently, stood up, and then walked toward the next bed. Though her steps were slow, they were filled with strength, as she moved from one wounded person to another, personally greeting each, personally holding every hand that had fought for her.
At this moment, she seemed no longer merely the female chief of the tribe, but the mother of the people, a symbol of a soul made stronger through suffering.
The afterglow of the setting sun illuminated the hills of Chikan Village. Golden-red light fell upon the tree shadows and stone walls on both sides of the village entrance. Birdsong and insect sounds interwove within the forest, as if playing a prelude for this long-awaited reunion.
Two ox carts slowly drove into the village entrance along a gravel path. The wheels crushed thick fallen leaves, producing creaking sounds. As soon as the ox carts appeared, the tribespeople who had long been waiting burst into cheers, standing on both sides of the path, their faces filled with joy.
“Junsheng and Princess Shayun are back!” one villager shouted loudly, like igniting a flame, stirring a thunder of cheers along the entire village road.
Junsheng stood up on the ox cart, placed his hand on the edge, and waved to everyone, his face carrying traces of travel-weariness yet unable to conceal his radiance. He turned and carefully helped Shayun down from the cart. Though her steps were light, her eyes shone with the brilliance of reunion after a long separation.
As soon as the two stepped onto the land of Chikan Village, the villagers crowded forward to shake hands and embrace them. Some offered warm water, some presented strings of mountain fruits, their faces filled with sincere gratitude.
“The great hero has returned!” “If not for Junsheng, how could we have seen Chief Dou Ning again so soon!”
Junsheng nodded repeatedly in response: “This is the effort of everyone together. That the four chiefs could return is due to the blessing of the ancestral spirits.”
Lalu, Yimeina, Wula, and Dalai followed behind the ox carts, also nodding to the villagers one by one. When the children saw Lalu, they excitedly shouted: “Sister Lalu is back!” Lalu smiled, bent down, and high-fived the children. Yimeina shyly waved, her eyes searching everywhere for familiar faces.
Junsheng and Shayun came to the stone steps in front. Directly opposite stood the couple Dabongya. The sunlight stretched their shadows long, interweaving on the ground into a silhouette of reunion.
“Mother, Father!” As soon as Shayun saw her parents, she ran forward and embraced Dabongya tightly. Junsheng also stepped forward quickly, warmly shaking hands with Li Qinghua, followed immediately by a firm embrace.
“It is good that you are safe, good that you are safe!” Dabongya patted her daughter’s back, tears glistening at the corners of her eyes.
Shayun leaned close to her mother’s ear and softly said a few words. Dabongya suddenly froze, her eyes lighting up instantly. She tightly grasped her daughter’s arm, turned her head, and whispered a few words into her husband Li Qinghua’s ear.
After hearing it, Li Qinghua’s previously resolute face softened at once, and a rare gentle smile appeared at the corner of his mouth: “Really? We… are going to become grandparents?”
Dabongya lowered her voice, unable to hide the joy in her eyes as she asked: “Does Junsheng know he is going to become a father?”
Shayun lowered her head with a smile, shyly saying: “He has been so busy these days that he is dizzy, he simply has no time for me to tell him… I want to find a chance to tell him after we return.”
Dabongya squeezed her daughter’s hand, her tone gentle yet teasing: “Then quickly find a chance to hint it to him. A man, becoming a father for the first time, should know earlier.”
Shayun nodded lightly: “I will, Mother.”
Junsheng, who was nearby, had not clearly heard their conversation, but noticed something unusual in their expressions. He leaned over and asked: “What are you whispering about? You both look very happy.”
Shayun smiled mysteriously and lightly patted the back of his hand: “I will tell you when I cook soup tonight.”
82
The afternoon sunlight fell upon the deer-breeding farm on the eastern side of Chikan Village. The vast grassland undulated in the breeze like green waves. Within the enclosure, more than a dozen spotted deer strolled leisurely under the sun, their antlers gleaming with a metallic luster. From the distant forest came the call of cuckoos, adding a sense of natural tranquility and vitality.
Kali stood by the wooden fence, wearing a coarse cloth shirt, holding a clipboard, his expression focused. While observing the movements of the deer herd, he explained to Wula standing beside him. Both wore straw hats. The ground beneath their feet was still slightly damp from the morning mist, producing a faint “creak” when stepped upon.
“Selecting deer with large velvet antlers, fast growth, and good quality as breeding deer is the first step.” Kali pointed toward a tall and robust stag. “Like that one—look at its antlers, symmetrical and thick, its posture stable. That is a very good breeding condition.”
Wula nodded, crouching down to carefully observe the stag’s gait. “I did not expect there to be such a great deal of knowledge in this.”
Kali smiled and placed his hand on Wula’s shoulder: “Actually, all of this comes from accumulated experience. Observe more, raise the deer as if they were your own children, and they will trust you like a friend. Only with health and stability can the herd reproduce well.”
Wula stood up, patted the dust off his body, and watched a doe licking her fawn on the grass. He sighed with feeling: “Once we learn this, we will not have to work so hard chasing deer in the wild anymore.”
“Exactly,” Kali casually plucked a banyan leaf from the fence and handed it to a nearby fawn. “Doing this can also allow our next generation to rely more steadily on the deer industry for their livelihood.”
In another enclosure not far away, Lalu and Yimeina were inspecting a doe about to give birth. Lalu gently soothed the doe, whose breathing was rapid, while holding Yimeina’s hand and guiding her observation.
“Look, this doe is close to seven months pregnant. Her belly is low, and the base of her ears is warm. These are signs that she is about to give birth.” Lalu crouched on the ground, lightly touching the doe’s abdomen. Her movements were gentle, her tone calm.
Yimeina frowned and asked: “Then what if she cannot give birth?”
“Then we must consider assistance or a cesarean section, but you should know that does that undergo human intervention are very likely to reject unfamiliar offspring.” Lalu stood up and patted Yimeina’s shoulder. “So we try as much as possible to let her give birth naturally. That way, the bond between mother and fawn will be deeper.”
“Then how can we reduce the chance of difficult labor?” Yimeina looked thoughtfully at other pregnant does on the grass, her tone showing the humility and curiosity of a beginner.
Lalu took Yimeina’s hand and led her slowly to an open area: “You are thinking well. First, the pregnant does must have enough space to move. If they exercise sufficiently before birth, the pelvis will not become stiff. Also, the feed must not be too rich; avoid excessive fatness. This way the pelvic muscles can contract properly, and the delivery will be smooth.”
Yimeina nodded and smiled: “I understand. It is the same principle as with humans—pregnant women must also exercise moderately to avoid difficult labor!”
Lalu tilted her head and looked at her, smiling: “Exactly, you have understood it well. The lives of animals and humans actually share many similarities.”
At this moment, a fawn curiously approached Yimeina and extended its tongue to lightly lick the hem of her skirt. Yimeina let out a soft exclamation and reached out to pat its head. Seeing this, Lalu nodded gently: “It already likes you.”
Sunlight fell upon the shoulders of the two women. Between the grassland and the deer herd, it seemed as though a new hope and the inheritance of skill were quietly taking shape.
83
In the afternoon, the small square in front of the Han medical clinic in Chikan Community was bathed in strong sunlight. A few sparrows chirped and hopped upon the racks of medicinal herbs, while Mount Drum in the distance was shrouded in a faint mist. An ox cart rumbled in, its wheel tracks stretching one after another along the gravel road.
An ox cart loaded with medicinal materials and bottles slowly came to a stop in front of the clinic. The ox panted, the ropes on its body still carrying traces of salty sea mist and sweat from the harbor. The driver was Ali, dressed in a coarse linen short jacket tinged with the smell of salt, with red marks still visible on his shoulders from hauling cargo at the port. He jumped down from the cart, pulled a letter from his chest fold, and strode toward Junsheng and Shayun, who were standing beneath the corridor pillar.
“Junsheng, Director Thomas asked me to deliver this letter to you. He said it’s from Holland.” Ali handed over the letter, his face still carrying a trace of travel-worn fatigue.
Junsheng reached out to take the letter and patted Ali on the shoulder. “Ali, you’ve worked hard. Thanks!”
Ali smiled. “The cart jolted so much along the way my back nearly broke, and two medicine jars even shattered. But everything you asked for has arrived.” He turned and climbed onto the cart, carefully unloading the heavy medicine bottles and jars, while calling toward the clinic, “Ula, Imena! Come out and help carry things!”
Two young assistants immediately ran out from the courtyard to help.
Junsheng opened the slightly damp letter. Along the edge of the envelope was still the red wax seal of the Dutch Governor’s Office. His expression gradually grew grave, and his brows furrowed into a deep crease. He lifted his head and looked toward Shayun. At that moment, she was sitting on a bench beneath the corridor, one hand resting on her slightly protruding abdomen, her face glowing with gentle warmth.
Junsheng spoke in a low voice, “Shayun… my mother wrote that my father’s condition is getting worse. He is now bedridden… She hopes I can return to see him one last time.”
Shayun was startled and turned to look at him, a trace of worry flashing instantly in her eyes. She stood up and gently took his hand.
“I will go back with you,” she said firmly. “I should also go back to see the elders.”
Junsheng shook his head and reached out to caress her cheek, his tone gentle and steady. “The sea voyage will take more than two months. The winds and waves are unpredictable… In your current condition, you cannot take that risk.”
Shayun lowered her head, her fingers lightly stroking her abdomen. After a moment of silence, she asked, “Then when will you depart?”
“As soon as possible, within these two or three days. This letter was probably brought by Andrew. His ship is returning, and I will take his ship back to Holland.”
Shayun nodded, trying her best to suppress her emotions. “Alright… I’ll help you prepare your luggage.”
The two stood beneath the old banyan tree in front of the clinic. The wind brushed through Shayun’s long hair, stirring the mottled light and shadows in the tree, falling upon their clasped hands. Shayun gently leaned her head against Junsheng’s shoulder, her voice so soft it was almost inaudible:
“After you go back… you must take good care of yourself, and… also say sorry to your parents for me.”
Junsheng held her in his arms, taking a deep breath. In his eyes flickered a barely perceptible worry and reluctance.
He knew that this was not merely a separation of a voyage, but perhaps also a turning point within the undercurrent of fate. And Shayun’s silence was like a quietly closing flower, containing within it unbloomed unknowns and deep affection.
In the distance, the ox let out a low “moo,” and the setting sun slowly slanted westward, stretching their shadows long upon the land of Chikan Community, inch by inch, gradually drifting farther apart.
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84
At dawn, Anping Harbor was brushed by a gentle sea breeze carrying a faint salty scent, softly caressing every face. At the pier, several large wooden ships were moored along the shore. Their hulls swayed slightly, creaking in low tones, as if mourning the impending farewell. The seawater lapped against the sandy shore, the gentle waves shimmering in the morning light, as though bidding farewell to each traveler about to depart.
Shayun stood by the pier, surrounded by her maternal relatives and the leaders of the four communities. Everyone watched as Junsheng prepared to board the ship, their faces filled with reluctance to part. The clouds in the sky parted, and sunlight streamed through, casting a golden outline upon her face. Her hand tightly held her abdomen, as if soothing the unborn child, and also steadying the unease within her heart.
Junsheng walked toward Shayun and gazed deeply at her. The sea breeze lifted the hem of his clothing, his gaze firm yet tender.
He slid the golden ring from his finger and gently placed it onto Shayun’s finger. Then he removed the necklace from around his neck—the heart-shaped pendant held a photograph of him and Shayun together. The pendant glimmered faintly in the morning light, as if telling the story of every moment they had shared.
“On this trip back to Holland, after handling my father’s affairs, I will explain our marriage to my parents. I will return soon, before the child is born,” Junsheng said softly, his voice filled with reluctance and promise.
Shayun’s eyes reddened. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with deep tenderness and silent attachment. “I will wait here for you to come back.” Her voice was almost inaudible, yet heavy with emotion.
They embraced, and time seemed to freeze at that moment. Shayun gently wiped away the tears at the corner of her eyes, her heart filled with mixed emotions.
At that moment, Dabanya stepped forward and lightly patted Junsheng’s shoulder, her gaze full of concern and reluctance. “Junsheng, go early and return early. Don’t let Shayun worry about you,” she said, her tone carrying the deep care of a mother, her face showing faint worry.
Junsheng nodded, his gaze resolute. “I will, sena.” He gently caressed Shayun’s cheek, silently making a vow that this separation would not last long.
Beside them, Kali stepped forward, patting Junsheng’s shoulder. A rare seriousness and concern appeared on his face. “Brother, this place needs you, and Shayun needs you even more. Take good care of yourself.” His gaze carried deep camaraderie—words not only from a friend, but from a warrior to his companion.
Kali and Junsheng embraced briefly—a tacit farewell without words. Then Kali gently pushed him away, his gaze shifting toward the distant ship. “Go, brother. Take our blessings with you.”
“We’re setting sail, Junsheng!” In the distance, Andrew’s voice came from the ship as he waved.
Junsheng turned and cast one final, deep gaze upon every friend and family member standing at the pier. His heart surged with reluctance and longing, but he knew this was a path he had to walk. He strode toward the ship, yet kept turning back, his gaze moving between Shayun and the others, full of lingering attachment.
Shayun stood at the pier, watching him step by step toward the distant ship. Countless words filled her heart, yet all dissolved into a single long breath. She held her abdomen tightly and gently raised her hand to wave at him. Tears slid down, her eyes reddened, yet she dared not lower her head. She knew—he would return.
Lalu gently supported Shayun’s arm, feeling the slight tremor in her shoulders. “Shayun… he will come back,” she said softly, yet with firm certainty.
Shayun took a deep breath, holding back her tears, and nodded to her. She knew that no matter how far or how long, this love would guide Junsheng back to her side.
The ship slowly left the harbor. The shimmering sea reflected their parting figures, growing farther and farther away, until they faded into a small white point on the horizon.
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85
This residence in Chikan Community was situated on a small hill surrounded by mountains. The environment was tranquil, broken only by occasional birdsong and the rustling of wind through the treetops. Inside the living room, neatly arranged bamboo furniture emitted the natural fragrance of wood. A rustic screen divided the space into two sections, decorated with exquisite embroidered tapestries and wooden carvings. Sunlight streamed in through the clear window panes, casting mottled patterns of light and shadow. The atmosphere within the room was both warm and quiet, like a serene painting.
Shayun sat in a corner of the living room. Soft sunlight fell upon her face, revealing a slightly melancholic expression. She gently stroked her slightly protruding abdomen, communicating with the unborn child. Her gaze appeared somewhat distant, as if recalling moments she had shared with Junsheng.
“Sena, I want to move to Dayuan Harbor and open a medical clinic,” Shayun said softly. There was a hint of longing and helplessness in her tone, yet a trace of determination shone in her eyes. “That way, I can go to the pier every day to wait for Junsheng to return.”
Dabanya, sitting across from her, raised her eyebrows slightly upon hearing this, a concerned smile appearing on her face. “Shayun, Junsheng has only been gone for a few days, and you already miss him this much?” Her tone carried a mix of helplessness and lightness, reminding her that the pain of separation was only temporary.
Shayun gave a bitter smile, lowered her head, and rubbed her abdomen, as if comforting herself, or trying to calm the restlessness within. “Yes, I know. But without him by my side, my heart feels empty.” She lifted her head, her gaze tinged with loss. “I think about him every day, wondering how he is doing now.”
At that moment, Li Qinghua sat upright on a bamboo chair nearby, a trace of worry in his expression. His hand rested lightly on the armrest, as if contemplating how to speak. “I understand how you feel, but you are now with child. Without anyone by your side to take care of you, if anything happens…” His voice was low, concern evident in his eyes. “Dabanya and I are both worried about you going there alone.”
Shayun shook her head gently, a faint smile forming on her lips as she tried to appear stronger. “Ali will accompany me. I will be fine.” She held Li Qinghua’s hand, her tone firm yet reassuring. “I know you are worried about me, but I truly want to go.”
Dabanya and Li Qinghua exchanged a glance. Their eyes were filled with reluctance and helplessness. Dabanya took a deep breath and then nodded slightly, her expression carrying a hint of resignation. She walked to Shayun’s side and gently placed her hand on her shoulder, her tone soft yet sincere. “Alright. Even if we can keep your person, we cannot keep your heart.” There was a sense of release in her words, yet also a subtle mixture of helplessness and blessing.
Shayun felt her care, her eyes glistening slightly with tears, and she nodded silently. “Thank you, sena,” she said softly, deeply grateful for those who had cared for her.
Dabanya gently patted Shayun’s back, then turned to look out at the mountain scenery beyond the window. Her voice was low yet firm. “I know you have made your decision, Shayun. Go, pursue your heart.” She smiled faintly, having accepted this unchangeable reality.
Li Qinghua, standing beside them, let out a deep sigh, still unable to hide his reluctance. “No matter what, remember to take care of yourself.”
Shayun gently held her abdomen, took a deep breath, and looked toward the friends and family around her. Her heart was filled with longing for Junsheng and hope for the future. She understood that this would be a difficult period, but she was willing to endure it for the sake of love and what lay ahead.

Chapter 17 Junsheng Returns to Amsterdam
86
Night had not yet fully fallen when the carriage moved through the streets of Amsterdam. Streetlights lit up one by one along the roadside, illuminating the wet street surface, reflecting a faint sheen from the wheels and the road. Mist swirled in the air, as if to envelop the entire city. In the distance came a few hurried footsteps; the clamor of the marketplace gradually faded, leaving only the sound of the carriage wheels and the hooves of the fine horse echoing through the quiet streets.
Junsheng sat inside the carriage, the scenery outside constantly changing, yet his heart was filled with countless worries. His gaze was somewhat distant as he looked at the old buildings lining both sides of the street, as if every house were telling a story of time. Suddenly, he murmured to himself: “Time passes so quickly! In the blink of an eye, I have been away from home for two years. Father’s condition has always been fluctuating between better and worse. I hope he can endure this time…”
The carriage arrived in front of his family residence. Junsheng paid the fare and then stepped down in silence. As he walked along the familiar path and pushed open that door, the old tree in the courtyard still stood firm, its leaves rustling in the wind. Everything seemed unchanged, yet a faint unease stirred within Junsheng’s heart.
“Mother, I’m back.” Junsheng’s voice was somewhat heavy, carrying a trace of fatigue. He walked into the house, slightly bowed, entering a world he had not seen for a long time.
Helena walked out from the bedroom. Upon seeing Junsheng, a worried smile appeared on her face. She approached him and said softly, “Junsheng, go see your father? His condition is getting weaker and weaker.” Her tone carried a hint of anxiety, and deep in her eyes lay reluctance and concern.
Junsheng nodded slightly, set down his luggage, and walked toward the bedroom. The door opened, and he saw his father, Jun (Jan), lying against the pillow on the bed, his face pale, his eyes revealing a sense of helplessness. Junsheng walked to the bedside, sat on the edge of the bed, his gaze fixed tightly on his father’s face.
“I’m back, Father.” Junsheng said softly, his tone filled with deep affection and guilt.
Jun struggled to raise his hand, bracing himself against the side of the bed, trying to sit up, but his body appeared weak. His voice was hoarse. “Junsheng, I thought I would never see you again…” His tone revealed the excitement of reunion after a long separation and the sorrow of frailty.
Junsheng looked at him, a trace of sorrow and helplessness flashing in his eyes, and held his father’s hand. “Father, you will get better…” His voice was firm, but the unease and powerlessness in his eyes could not be concealed.
Jun gave a bitter smile and shook his head slightly. “My body will not recover… You will not leave home again, will you, Junsheng?” He tightened his grip on Junsheng’s hand, his tone carrying a faint plea.
Junsheng remained silent for a moment, holding back the tears in his eyes, gently patting the back of his father’s hand. “No… I won’t…” He forced out a slight smile.
Jun’s gaze became firm. “The Visser family and ours have been family friends for decades. When you were born, I arranged a marriage with the Visser family. Now that you have returned, while I still have a breath left, I want to see you marry Viana.” His tone was filled with an unfulfilled wish, as if all his remaining strength was placed on this final request.
Junsheng’s brows furrowed slightly, his expression troubled, and he responded in a low voice, “But, I…”
At that moment, Helena quietly entered the room, gently pulled Junsheng’s arm, and signaled him to step outside the doorway. She said softly, “Junsheng, for God’s sake, just agree to it, will you? This is the only wish your father has left unfulfilled.” A trace of pleading flashed in her eyes, her face filled with helplessness.
Junsheng was pulled outside by his mother and said in a low voice, “Mother, more than a year ago, in the Far East, I married a girl. She is already pregnant. I mentioned this in my letters home. I cannot become a heartless man. Please do not force me.” He clenched his hands, his eyes revealing struggle and pain.
Helena lowered her head, sighed softly, then looked at her son. “I received that letter you sent back, my son.” She gently wiped the tears from the corner of her eyes. “I did not show that letter to your father. At that time, Viana’s father had just passed away. He and your father had been friends for decades. Before he died, he asked your father to quickly arrange your marriage…” She paused for a moment, took a deep breath. “I did not dare show your letter to your father. On one hand, I was afraid he would misunderstand; on the other, I was afraid it would anger him and worsen his condition.”
After hearing this, Junsheng’s eyes were filled with confusion and pain. He said in a low voice, “But, Mother, if I marry Viana as well, it would be unfair to her. I believe I should not deceive her.” He turned around, his gaze distant, engaged in a fierce inner struggle.
Helena’s tone became firmer. She took a deep breath and looked directly at Junsheng. “Are you going to defy your father? Your father has only one breath left. For a dying father, can you bear to let him leave with regret?” Her voice was filled with pleading and helplessness. “You have always been a filial child. I believe you would not refuse your father at this moment.”
Junsheng’s inner struggle intensified. His eyes gradually became blurred, his voice filled with helplessness. “Mother, when you say this, it truly puts me in a very difficult position!” He lowered his head, tears shimmering in his eyes.
Helena slowly released him, placed both hands on his shoulders, her tone gentle yet urgent. “Son, I beg you—let your father pass these remaining days without any burdens.” Her tone was gentle yet firm.
Junsheng lowered his head, silently looking into his mother’s eyes. His inner struggle reached its peak. Finally, he took a deep breath and made a decision in his heart: “To encourage Father’s will to live, I will agree for now… I will find a way to withdraw later…”
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87
The wedding was held in an ancient Christian church. When sunlight streamed through the stained glass windows, scattering multicolored patches of light across the solemn church floor, everyone fell silent. The air was filled with the scent of incense candles, and the church was immersed in a sacred and solemn atmosphere. The sound of bells echoed melodiously, accompanied by the priest’s murmured voice, as if time itself had frozen.
Junsheng sat in a wheelchair, his body still thin, his face pale. His gaze was fixed on the priest ahead, trying to bury all his pain and struggle deep within, yet a faint trace of weariness and helplessness could still be seen in his eyes. His father, Jun (Jan), sat in a corner of the church, his face still pale, but he forced himself to sit upright, gripping the armrests tightly, his eyes filled with expectation and concern. His gaze never left Junsheng.
The priest stood before the altar, hands clasped, looking gently at Viana, then turning to Junsheng, speaking in a solemn tone: “In the name of Lord Jesus, Viana, are you willing to become Junsheng’s wife, to cherish and serve him for life?”
Viana wore a white wedding gown, her expression slightly shy, her fingers tightly holding the bouquet. Her voice was gentle yet firm. “I am willing.” Her eyes shone with the light of love as she looked at Junsheng. Though there was a trace of unease in her heart, she still chose to believe in this marriage.
The priest then turned to Junsheng, his gaze profound. “In the name of Lord Jesus, Junsheng, are you willing to have Viana as your wife, to cherish and love her for life?”
Junsheng closed his eyes slightly, his inner struggle surging in an instant. He looked toward his father, whose gaze revealed endless expectation and sorrow. Junsheng’s hand unconsciously tightened on the armrest of the wheelchair, his lips trembling slightly. Finally, he spoke slowly, “I… am willing…” The words seemed to emerge after a thousand pounds of struggle, his tone filled with helplessness and heaviness, appearing especially weak compared to earlier firmness.
The priest smiled faintly and murmured, “After exchanging tokens, Junsheng, you may kiss the bride.”
Under the gaze of everyone, Junsheng and Viana exchanged rings and tokens. At that moment, the air in the church seemed to freeze, with only the echo of bells and faint footsteps. After exchanging rings, Junsheng lowered his head slightly and gently kissed Viana on the forehead. Though the kiss was tender, there was no contact of lips, and a trace of awkward silence lingered in the air. The surrounding relatives and friends began to whisper softly; some exchanged glances, others frowned in confusion.
Junsheng held Viana’s hand, feeling her slight trembling. A trace of disappointment flashed in her eyes, yet she forced a smile, looking at him gently, lightly pulling his hand. Together they walked out of the church doors. Sunlight shone upon them, the golden glow like a halo draped over their bodies.
Viana stopped, turned back, and gently tossed the bouquet toward the young men and women below. Her movement was graceful, her smile like a blooming flower, yet her heart was filled with complex emotions. The bouquet flew through the air, tracing an arc before slowly descending. The young people below reached out eagerly to catch it, and warm applause followed.
Junsheng and Viana walked side by side, yet an invisible distance separated them, the silence between them seeming to speak of an indescribable barrier. Although the wedding was successfully completed, the subtle atmosphere within it could not be ignored.
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88
A thin mist enveloped the port of Amsterdam outside the window. The morning light fell like veils upon the river’s surface. In the distance, masts appeared and disappeared within the mist. Occasionally, a seagull crossed the sky, leaving behind a clear cry.
Junsheng, wearing a dark gray house robe, sat at an oak desk by the window, his fingertips lightly tapping the tabletop, his gaze lingering on the busy port without shifting for a long time. A faint gloom lingered in his eyes, as if the moisture had condensed within his heart.
He murmured softly, “Shayun, how are you now… You are pregnant, and still have to manage the clinic on your own. It is so hard… Is it too much for you to bear?”
The door creaked softly open, and Viana entered. She wore an off-white morning dress and held a steaming cup of Ceylon black tea, its aroma carrying a hint of citrus sweetness. She knelt down, placed the tea beside Junsheng, then quietly sat on the sofa opposite him.
“Junsheng, is something troubling you?” Her tone was gentle, yet her eyes carried a trace of inquiry and reluctance. “These past few days, you seem to have been in low spirits. Can you tell me about it?”
Junsheng did not answer immediately. He simply reached out, picked up the teacup, and lowered his head to blow away the rising steam. Seeing this, Viana stood up, walked to his side, and gently placed her hand on his shoulder. The touch was both comforting and real.
“I watch Father’s condition worsen day by day…” Junsheng finally spoke, his voice slightly hoarse. “I am clearly a doctor, yet I can do nothing… That sense of helplessness feels like a stone pressing on my chest.”
Viana said nothing. She gently knelt down, held his hand, her fingertips applying slight pressure. She looked up at him and said firmly,
“You have not done nothing. Every day you take his pulse, decoct medicine, and keep vigil through the night. You have done more than anyone else. You have already done your best, Junsheng.”
Junsheng’s throat tightened, his eyes trembling slightly. He lowered his head and gently covered Viana’s hand with his own. “Thank you… for being willing to stay by my side… Sometimes, I truly feel like I can no longer hold on.”
Viana smiled gently and pulled his hand toward her chest. “Don’t say that. We will get through this together. You are not alone, Junsheng.”
The mist outside gradually dispersed, and the outline of the port became clearer. The aroma of tea lingered in the room, and time itself seemed to pause for a moment within this quiet stillness.
89
The night was deep, and the entire city seemed to be asleep in an ink-like stillness. Only the distant sound of church bells rang leisurely, low and ethereal. Fine rain drifted outside the window, and the slanting wind struck against the window lattice, leaving scattered water marks.
Inside the bedroom, a sudden, urgent knocking shattered the silence—
“Knock, knock! Knock knock knock!”
Junsheng awoke from his dream, draped a dark wool robe over himself, and stepped barefoot out of bed. The wooden floor creaked faintly beneath his feet. He walked to the entrance and opened the door—
Helena stood outside. Her coat was soaked by the rain, her black hair clung to her cheeks, her eyes were red and swollen, and her expression was grief-stricken. When she spoke, her voice trembled yet remained calm:
“Junsheng… your father has passed. He went very peacefully.”
Junsheng stood as if struck by lightning, unable to say anything for a moment. Behind him came the sound of fabric rustling. Viana, wrapped in a long shawl, had also come over, her eyes filled with unease.
Junsheng suddenly turned and rushed toward his father’s bedroom almost at a run. The corridor light was dim yellow, stretching his shadow long. Viana followed him barefoot, not even having time to put on shoes.
Pushing open the door, a mixed scent of lingering Chinese medicine and old wooden furniture rushed toward him. The candlelight by the window flickered faintly. On the bed, Jan lay with a peaceful expression, his hands folded over his chest, as if asleep.
“Father…” Junsheng rushed forward, fell to his knees by the bedside, and with trembling hands embraced his father’s cold body.
His forehead pressed tightly against his father’s chest, his sobs surging like waves: “I haven’t had the chance to tell you… how grateful I am to you…”
Viana slowly approached, silently knelt beside Junsheng. One hand rested on his shoulder, the other gently stroked Jan’s pale hand. She said softly, “He was waiting for you. Until the very last moment… he never let go of your photograph.”
Her gaze turned toward Jan’s right hand—within it, he tightly held a slightly yellowed photograph. In the photo, Junsheng and Viana were dressed in wedding attire, smiling at each other, with the rose-covered wall of that old house in the background.
Junsheng raised his head, his tear-blurred eyes fixed on the photograph, his throat trembling. He reached out and gently took the photo, brushing away dust and tear marks from its edges with his fingertips.
“Father… you always remembered this photograph…”
He rested his forehead against his father’s hand, tears falling silently.
Outside the window, the sound of rain was like weeping. The wind swept into the half-open curtains, stirring a painting on the bedroom wall—an old portrait of Jan in his youth. The figure in the painting was smiling, as if now also bidding a silent farewell.
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90
The sky was heavy like lead, the clouds pressed low, and fine rain fell diagonally, soaking the grass of the cemetery into a deep green. Several black crows cawed softly, perched on the damp treetops. In the distance, the church bells rang intermittently, like a final call to the departed.
The priest, dressed in a black robe, stood before the grave, holding the Bible, his voice low and steady:
“Dust to dust, ashes to ashes. A faithful servant has left suffering and gained peace, now freed, returning to the side of God… May he rest in peace.”
Raindrops fell upon the opened umbrellas, making a soft, continuous sound like whispers of mourning. Viana and Stephanie supported Helena on either side. Her face was pale, her lips tightly pressed together, tears had soaked both her cheeks, and her trembling hand tightly clutched Viana’s sleeve.
Helena said in a low voice, “Until the end, he never cried out in pain… I thought he would hold on a little longer…”
Viana responded softly, “He passed very peacefully, as if in a dream… Don’t be too sorrowful. He no longer has to suffer.”
Stephanie gently patted Helena’s back and said softly, “We are all here with you. He can see it too.”
Junsheng, dressed in a well-tailored black suit, stood beside the grave, watching as the coffin was slowly lowered into the earth. His eyes were hollow, rimmed red. He did not move at all, as if time had come to a standstill.
A worker poured down the first shovelful of soil. With a dull “thud,” it struck the coffin lid, the sound like a blow to his chest. Junsheng’s throat tightened. Suddenly, he stepped forward, crouched down, and personally grabbed a handful of wet soil, slowly letting it fall.
“Father… thank you… I thought I was prepared, but…” His words choked, his fingers still gripping the damp soil, as if unwilling to let go.
Viana quietly walked to his side, knelt down, and placed her hand on his back. She said softly, “Let him go in peace. The one he was most worried about… is you.”
Junsheng raised his head and looked into her tearful eyes. His nose tingled, and at last, he nodded. He cast one more glance at the coffin below, as if bidding a final farewell to the past, then stood up, leaning closely against Viana.
The rain grew heavier, the wind lifted the edges of their black clothing, and the sky turned gray and dim. The entire cemetery was shrouded in a damp silence. The crowd gradually dispersed, leaving only a single white lily lying quietly beside the grave in the muddy ground, as if it were a final whisper to the departed.

Chapter 17: Junsheng Returns to Amsterdam
86
Night had not yet fully fallen when the carriage traveled through the streets of Amsterdam. Streetlights along the roadside lit up one after another, reflecting off the damp street surface, casting faint glimmers from the wheels and the ground. Mist swirled in the air, as if intending to wrap the entire city within it. From afar came a few hurried footsteps; the bustle of the marketplace gradually faded, leaving only the sound of the carriage wheels and the horse’s hooves echoing through the quiet streets.
Junsheng sat inside the carriage. The scenery outside the window kept changing, yet his heart was filled with countless worries. His gaze was somewhat distant, looking at the old buildings lining both sides of the street, as if each one were telling a story of time. Suddenly, he murmured to himself:
“Time passes so quickly! In the blink of an eye, I’ve been away from home for two years. Father’s health has been fluctuating… I hope he can get through this time…”
The carriage arrived at the gate of his family residence. Junsheng paid the fare and stepped down silently. As he walked along the familiar path and pushed open the door, the old tree in the courtyard still stood firm, its leaves rustling in the wind. Everything seemed unchanged, yet Junsheng felt a faint unease in his heart.
“Mother, I’m back.” Junsheng’s voice was heavy, carrying a trace of fatigue. He stepped inside, slightly bowed, entering a world he had not seen for a long time.
Helena walked out from the bedroom. Upon seeing Junsheng, a worried smile appeared on her face. She approached him and softly said, “Junsheng, go see your father, will you? His health is getting weaker and weaker.” Her tone carried anxiety, and her eyes held deep reluctance and concern.
Junsheng nodded slightly, put down his luggage, and walked toward the bedroom. When the door opened, he saw his father, Jan, leaning against the pillow, his face pale, his eyes revealing a sense of weakness. Junsheng walked to the bedside, sat at the edge of the bed, and fixed his gaze on his father’s face.
“I’m back, Father,” Junsheng said softly, his tone filled with affection and guilt.
Jan struggled to raise his hand, bracing against the bedside, trying to sit up, but his body appeared weak. His voice was hoarse: “Junsheng, I thought I would never see you again…” His tone revealed the excitement of reunion and the sorrow of frailty.
Junsheng looked at him, a trace of sadness and helplessness flashing in his eyes, and held his father’s hand. “Father, you will get better…” His voice was firm, yet the unease and helplessness in his eyes could not be concealed.
Jan gave a bitter smile and shook his head slightly. “My body will not recover… You won’t leave home again, will you, Junsheng?” He gripped Junsheng’s hand tightly, a faint pleading in his tone.
Junsheng was silent for a moment, holding back the tears in his eyes, and gently patted the back of his father’s hand. “No… I won’t…” He forced out a faint smile.
Jan’s gaze became resolute. “The Visser family has been close friends with ours for decades. When you were born, I arranged a marriage contract with them. Now that you have returned, while I still have a breath left, I want to see you marry Viana.” His tone was filled with an unfulfilled wish, as if all his remaining strength was placed into this final request.
Junsheng frowned slightly, his expression troubled, and replied in a low voice, “But I…”
At that moment, Helena quietly entered the room, gently took Junsheng’s arm, and signaled him to step outside. She softly said, “Junsheng, for God’s sake, please agree to it. This is the only wish your father has left.” Her eyes showed a hint of pleading, her expression full of helplessness.
Pulled outside the room, Junsheng said in a low voice, “Mother, more than a year ago in the Far East, I married a girl. She is already pregnant. I mentioned this in my letters home. I cannot be an unfaithful man. Please do not force me.” He clenched his fists, his eyes revealing struggle and pain.
Helena lowered her head and sighed softly, then looked at her son. “I received that letter you wrote, my son.” She gently wiped the tears from the corner of her eyes. “I did not show it to your father. At that time, Viana’s father had just passed away. He and your father had been close friends for decades. Before he died, he asked your father to arrange your marriage as soon as possible…” She paused, took a deep breath. “I did not dare show your letter to your father—on one hand, I feared he might misunderstand; on the other, I feared it would worsen his condition.”
After hearing this, Junsheng’s eyes were filled with confusion and pain. He said softly, “But, Mother, if I marry Viana again, it would be unfair to her. I believe I should not deceive her.” He turned away, his gaze distant, struggling intensely within himself.
Helena’s tone became firmer. She took a deep breath and looked directly at him. “Are you going to disobey your father? He has only one breath left. Can you bear to let a dying father leave with regret?” Her voice was filled with pleading and helplessness. “You have always been a filial child. I believe you will not refuse your father at such a moment.”
Junsheng’s inner struggle intensified. His eyes gradually blurred, and his voice carried helplessness. “Mother, saying this makes it very difficult for me!” He lowered his head, tears glistening in his eyes.
Helena slowly released him, placed her hands on his shoulders, and spoke gently yet urgently: “My son, I beg you—let your father spend his remaining days without worries.” Her tone was soft but resolute.
Junsheng lowered his head, silently looking into his mother’s eyes. His inner struggle reached its peak. Finally, he took a deep breath and made up his mind:
“For the sake of encouraging Father’s will to live, I will agree for now… I will think of a way to withdraw later…”
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87
The wedding was held in an ancient Christian church. When sunlight streamed through the stained glass windows, casting multicolored patches of light upon the solemn church floor, everyone fell silent. The air was filled with the scent of incense, and the entire church was immersed in a sacred and solemn atmosphere. The bell tolled melodiously, accompanied by the priest’s murmured prayers, as if time itself had frozen.
Junsheng sat in a wheelchair, his body still thin, his face pale. His eyes were fixed on the priest ahead, trying to bury all pain and struggle deep within his heart, though fatigue and helplessness were faintly visible in his gaze.
His father, Jan, sat in a corner of the church. Though still pale, he forced himself to sit upright, gripping the armrests tightly, his eyes filled with expectation and concern. His gaze never left Junsheng.
The priest stood before the altar, hands clasped, his gentle eyes turning to Viana, then to Junsheng. His voice was solemn:
“In the name of the Lord Jesus, Viana, are you willing to become Junsheng’s wife, to cherish and serve him for your entire life?”
Viana, dressed in a pure white wedding gown, showed a trace of shyness. Her fingers tightly held her bouquet. Her voice was soft yet firm: “I am willing.” Her eyes shone with love as she looked at Junsheng, despite a faint unease in her heart.
The priest then turned to Junsheng. “In the name of the Lord Jesus, Junsheng, are you willing to take Viana as your wife, to cherish and love her for your entire life?”
Junsheng closed his eyes slightly. In that instant, all his inner struggles surged forth. He looked toward his father, whose gaze was filled with endless expectation and sorrow. His hands unconsciously tightened on the wheelchair’s armrests, his lips trembling slightly before he finally spoke:
“I… am willing…”
The words seemed to come out only after bearing immense weight, his tone filled with helplessness and heaviness.
The priest smiled gently. “After exchanging tokens, Junsheng, you may kiss the bride.”
Under everyone’s gaze, Junsheng and Viana exchanged rings and tokens. At that moment, the air in the church seemed to freeze. Afterward, Junsheng lowered his head slightly and gently kissed Viana on the forehead. Though tender, it was not a kiss upon the lips, leaving an awkward silence in the air. Guests began whispering softly, exchanging glances and puzzled expressions.
Junsheng held Viana’s hand, feeling her slight trembling. A trace of disappointment flashed in her eyes, yet she forced a smile and gently pulled his hand. Together, they walked out of the church doors, sunlight bathing them in a golden glow.
Viana paused, turned around, and gently tossed her bouquet toward the young boys and girls below. The bouquet arced through the air as applause erupted.
Junsheng and Viana walked side by side, yet an invisible distance separated them. Though the wedding had been successfully completed, its subtle tension could not be ignored.
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88
Outside the window, a thin mist covered the port of Amsterdam. Morning light fell like gauze upon the water, and distant masts appeared faintly through the fog. Occasionally, a seagull crossed the sky, leaving behind a crisp cry.
Junsheng, dressed in a dark gray robe, sat at an oak desk by the window. His fingers lightly tapped the tabletop as his gaze lingered on the busy port. A faint shadow lingered in his eyes.
He murmured softly, “Shayun, how are you now… You are pregnant, yet you must manage the clinic alone… so exhausting… is it too much for you?”
The door creaked open, and Viana entered, holding a cup of hot Ceylon tea. She set it beside him and sat quietly across from him.
“Junsheng, do you have something on your mind?” she asked gently.
Junsheng remained silent for a moment, then spoke hoarsely, “Watching Father’s illness worsen day by day… I am a doctor, yet I can do nothing…”
Viana knelt beside him, held his hand, and said firmly, “You have done everything you can.”
Junsheng’s throat tightened. He covered her hand and said, “Thank you for staying with me…”
Viana smiled gently. “We will get through this together. You are not alone.”
Outside, the mist gradually dispersed, and the outline of the port became clearer.

89
The night was deep, and the entire city seemed to be asleep in an inky silence. Only the distant tolling of the church bell sounded leisurely, low and hollow. Outside the window, a fine rain drifted down, and the slanting wind struck against the window lattice, leaving specks of watermarks.
In the bedroom, a hurried knocking suddenly tore through the stillness—
“Knock knock! Knock knock knock!”
Junsheng awoke from his dream, draped a dark wool robe over himself, and stepped barefoot out of bed. The wooden floor creaked faintly beneath his feet. He walked to the entryway and opened the door—
Helena stood outside. Her coat was soaked by the rain, her black hair clinging to her cheeks, her eyes red and swollen, her expression grief-stricken. When she spoke, her voice trembled yet remained calm:
“Junsheng… your father has passed away. He went peacefully.”
Junsheng stood stunned as if struck by lightning, unable to say anything for a moment. From behind came the sound of fabric rustling. Vianna, already wrapped in a long blanket, walked over as well, her eyes filled with unease.
Junsheng suddenly turned around and rushed toward his father’s bedroom almost as if running. The corridor light was dim yellow, stretching his shadow long. Vianna followed behind him barefoot, not even having time to put on shoes.
Pushing open the door, a scent of lingering traditional medicine mixed with old wooden furniture rushed toward him. The candlelight by the window flickered faintly. On the bed, Jan lay with a peaceful expression, his hands folded over his chest, as if asleep.
“Father…” Junsheng rushed forward, collapsing to his knees beside the bed, his trembling hands embracing his father’s cold body.
His forehead pressed tightly against his father’s chest, his choking sobs surging like a tide: “I didn’t have time to tell you yet… I… I am so grateful to you…”
Vianna slowly approached, silently kneeling beside Junsheng. One hand rested on his shoulder, while the other gently stroked the back of Jan’s pale hand. She said softly: “He was waiting for you. Until the very last moment… he never let go of your photograph.”
Her gaze turned toward Jan’s right hand—within it, he tightly held a slightly yellowed photograph. In the picture, Junsheng and Vianna were dressed in wedding attire, smiling at each other, with the rose-covered wall of that old house in the background.
Junsheng lifted his head, his tear-blurred eyes gazing at the photograph, his throat trembling. He reached out and gently took the photograph, brushing away the dust and tear marks at its edges with his fingertips.
“Father… you always remembered this photograph…”
He rested his forehead against his father’s hand, as tears fell quietly.
Outside the window, the sound of rain was like weeping. The wind swept into the half-open curtains, stirring an old painting on the bedroom wall. It was a portrait of Jan in his youth—within the painting, the figure was smiling, as if now also bidding a silent farewell.
90
The sky was heavy like lead, the clouds pressing low. Fine rain slanted down, soaking the grass in the cemetery into a deep green. A few black crows cawed softly, perched on the wet treetops. The distant church bells rang intermittently, like a final call to the departed.
The priest, dressed in a black robe, stood before the grave, holding the Bible, his voice low and steady:
“Dust to dust, earth to earth. A faithful servant departs from suffering and attains peace, freed from all burdens, returning to the side of God… May he rest in peace.”
Raindrops fell upon the opened umbrellas, producing a faint and continuous sound, like whispers of mourning. Vianna and Stephanie supported Helena on either side. Her face was pale, her lips tightly pressed together, tears washing her cheeks thoroughly wet, her trembling hands clutching Vianna’s sleeve.
Helena said softly: “Until the very end, he never cried out in pain… I thought he would hold on a little longer…”
Vianna replied gently: “He left very peacefully, as if in a dream… don’t be too sad. He no longer has to suffer now.”
Stephanie lightly patted Helena’s back and said softly: “We are all here with you. He can see it as well.”
Junsheng, dressed in a neatly tailored black suit, stood by the grave, watching as the coffin was slowly lowered into the earth. His gaze was hollow, his eyes reddened, unmoving, as if time itself had come to a standstill.
A worker poured down the first shovelful of soil. With a dull “thud,” it struck the coffin lid, the sound like a blow against his chest. Junsheng’s throat tightened. Suddenly, he stepped forward, crouched down, and personally grabbed a handful of wet earth, slowly letting it fall.
“Father… thank you… I thought I was prepared, but…” His words choked, his fingers still gripping the wet soil, as if unwilling to let go.
Vianna silently walked to his side, knelt down, and placed her hand on his back. She said softly: “Let him go in peace. The one he was most worried about… was you.”
Junsheng raised his head and looked into her tear-filled eyes. The tip of his nose grew slightly sore, and at last he nodded. He took one more look at the coffin below, as if making a final farewell to the past, then stood up, leaning closely against Vianna.
The rain grew heavier, the wind lifting the corner of the black garments. The sky was gray and dim, and the entire cemetery was enveloped in a damp silence. The crowd gradually dispersed, leaving only a single bouquet of white lilies in the muddy ground, lying quietly beside the grave, as if a final whisper to the departed.

Chapter 18 Vianna Discovers Junsheng’s Secret
91
The bedroom was dimly lit, with a gray, hazy daylight streaming in through the half-open window, casting a long, faint shadow across the desk. The bookshelf by the wall stood silently. Wind seeped in through narrow gaps, stirring the letter paper and the quill pen on the desk, as well as the unfolded, unfinished letter.
Junsheng sat by the window, holding the pen, his expression focused. His strokes were heavy and deliberate, writing word by word on the paper:
“Dear Shayun: Father’s funeral has just been held…”
Suddenly, Helena’s slightly hoarse voice came from downstairs: “Junsheng, come downstairs and help me for a moment.”
Junsheng responded, stood up, straightened the letter paper and the pen, and hurriedly left the room.
The door was casually pulled to, left slightly ajar. Not long after his footsteps faded away, Vianna pushed the door open and entered.
She was wearing a deep blue woolen long dress, her cheeks still flushed with the cold wind from outside. She walked into the room, originally intending to find a notebook. Her gaze inadvertently swept across the desk, and the familiar handwriting on the letter paper caught her eye.
She frowned, her gaze held by the words. After hesitating for a moment, she finally picked up the unsealed letter. She read it aloud, her voice almost a whisper:
“…I hope to make it back to Tayouan Harbor before the child is born. You are with child; do not overexert yourself…”
Her fingertips trembled slightly, her throat tightening. After a brief moment of stillness, she murmured to herself in a low voice: “Shayun… who is she? He has never mentioned this name to me… a child? Is it his child?”
Her lips pressed together slightly, her gaze drifting as she fell into deep confusion and unease. The entire room suddenly seemed empty, the air congealed, even the ticking of the clock becoming especially piercing.
“Does he really have a wife? In the Far East… then why did he marry me?” A trace of fragility and bewilderment flashed in Vianna’s eyes.
Junsheng’s footsteps came from downstairs. She suddenly came back to her senses, hastily folded the letter back into place, carefully put it back on the desk, quickly turned around, left the bedroom, and walked toward the study at the other end of the corridor, her figure appearing somewhat lost and distraught.
A few seconds later, Junsheng pushed the door open and entered, somewhat hurried. He returned to the desk, noticed nothing unusual, picked up the pen again, and continued writing. His expression was the same as before, deeply immersed in those distant memories and attachments.
Not far outside the door, Vianna quietly returned, standing silently by the side of the door, gazing at Junsheng’s back through the narrow gap.
His writing was filled with deep affection, the tip of the pen making a soft rustling sound across the paper, yet that sound was like a blade cutting into her heart.
Vianna thought to herself: “Junsheng said he will ask about the ship schedule tomorrow… he is in a hurry to go back… is it because of that child? He did not kiss me at the wedding… even after we married, he has never taken the initiative to touch me… is all of this to protect that past love?”
She lowered her head, her hands unconsciously gripping the hem of her clothes, her eyes flickering with pain and struggle.
“He already has a family… then what should I do? Let him go? Or accompany him back… even if only as a friend?”
She murmured softly, as if speaking to the air, and also as if bidding farewell to the love and unwillingness in her heart.
“Tonight, I must have an open and honest talk with Junsheng… no matter what the truth is, I want to know… what I am to him in his heart.”
The wind outside the window gradually rose, the shadows of the trees swaying, as if foreshadowing a storm about to arrive—not only in the autumn night, but also upon the unspoken wall of the heart between the two of them.
92
The night was like thick ink, quietly covering the outline of the harbor. The silhouettes of ships in the distance appeared and disappeared in the mist, their lights flickering like stars. The sea breeze, carrying a damp salty scent, struck against the railing of the balcony.
Junsheng leaned with both hands on the railing, the hair on his forehead slightly lifted by the wind. His expression was focused, gazing at the faint lights of the distant harbor, as if seeing another world, another life. The mist-like night gathered in his eyes into homesickness.
Soft footsteps came from behind—it was Vianna.
She wore a dark gray shawl, her face without makeup, yet her eyes were especially clear, her resolve already set. She stood beside him, silent for a moment.
After a while, she softly asked: “Junsheng, you really want to go back to the Far East, don’t you?”
Junsheng’s shoulders stiffened slightly. He turned to look at her, his expression complex. His voice carried a hint of reproach: “You read the letter I wrote?”
Vianna lowered her head, her tone gentle yet sincere: “I’m sorry… I saw it by accident. I truly didn’t mean to.”
He was silent for a few seconds, then finally nodded slowly: “Yes, I want to go back.”
The sea breeze lightly brushed across their faces, carrying an unspoken heaviness.
Vianna said softly: “Junsheng, I didn’t know you were already married in the Far East… otherwise, I would not have…”
Junsheng turned to face her, a trace of apology and fatigue flashing in his eyes. His tone softened: “Vianna, I’m sorry. I did not intend to deceive you… I just… did not expect to meet you, nor did I expect that you would agree to marry me.”
Vianna gave a bitter smile, a faint glimmer appearing at the corner of her eyes, her voice slightly trembling: “Since things have already happened, what is the use of pursuing whether it was intentional or not? I don’t want you to be worried every day… if you are unhappy, I feel very bad as well…”
Junsheng looked away, his voice low and hoarse: “I must go back as soon as possible… the child is about to be born. Shayun and the child… need me.”
Vianna raised her head, looking at him with firm eyes: “If you just leave like that, then what about me?”
Junsheng lowered his head and murmured: “I’m sorry…”
Her tone suddenly rose slightly, her emotions gradually surging: “Can one sentence of ‘I’m sorry’ solve anything? Do you think marriage is just an episode in a journey, something you can start whenever you want and end whenever you want?”
Junsheng frowned, a painful struggle appearing on his face: “We can divorce… I don’t want to delay your youth, nor do I want you to sacrifice so much for me…”
Vianna looked straight at him, her voice low yet resolute: “Do you take marriage as a joke? This is not the man I once knew.”
Junsheng’s tone became helpless yet defensive: “Then what do you want me to do? Bind me to your side? Watch me think of another family every day?”
Vianna looked steadily at him, her tone turning gentle yet unyielding: “Your heart is no longer here. What is the meaning of binding you to my side? But I don’t want you to bear this alone. I will go with you to the Far East.”
Junsheng was startled, turning to look at her, surprise and unease flashing in his eyes: “Go back to the Far East with me? You… will your mother agree?”
Vianna took a breath, her voice firm like rocks revealed after the tide recedes: “I will try my best to persuade her. This is the only way before us… to face reality, rather than to escape it.”
The sea breeze rose again, lifting her long hair, and also unsettling the firm resolve that had once filled his chest. He gazed into her eyes, and something within him seemed to be gently shaken.
Standing on the balcony under the night sky, they were no longer a pair of unfamiliar husband and wife, but companions about to face an unknown fate together.
93
A brass chandelier hung beneath the carved ceiling, its soft yellow light spilling across the intricate Persian carpet and velvet sofa, as if condensing the oppressive atmosphere into a heavy, tangible air. The fire in the fireplace burned vigorously, flames flickering and casting light upon Stephanie’s tense face, illuminating her anger with unmistakable clarity.
Viana stood beside the fireplace, her hands clasped before her chest, her expression resolute yet tinged with a hidden plea.
“How could such a thing happen? This is absolutely absurd!” Stephanie suddenly stood up, her long dress swaying. Her voice was sharp like a sword drawn from its sheath, her face a mixture of shock and anger that formed utter disbelief.
Viana stepped forward quickly, grasping her mother’s hand, her tone imploring: “Mother, I don’t want to lose Junsheng… I truly… cannot.”
Stephanie shook off her hand and paced angrily across the carpet. “I will personally go ask Junsheng and Helena! I’ll demand an explanation from both mother and son!”
“Please don’t, Mother. That would only make things harder to resolve…” Viana stepped forward, trying to steady her by the shoulders.
“They have gone too far!” Stephanie turned around, pointing at her daughter, her voice agitated. “I have only one daughter—why should you suffer such humiliation? What do they take us for?!”
Viana’s eyes reddened. She suppressed her emotions and said softly, “Mother… let me accompany Junsheng to the Far East first, alright?”
“No!” Stephanie crossed her arms, her voice resolute. “You want to leave me behind and go to such a place alone?”
“I won’t. Once things are settled there, I’ll come back and bring you over…”
Stephanie let out a cold laugh and interrupted her. “You are too naïve, Viana. In what capacity will you go to the Far East? To do what? What face will you have in front of that woman?”
Viana lowered her head, her hands clenched so tightly her knuckles turned white. “I… I can only face it honestly.”
A trace of tenderness flashed in Stephanie’s eyes, but it was quickly swallowed by anger. Her voice rose almost into a roar: “I will not let you suffer such humiliation! Our family and Jan’s family had a marriage agreement long ago. You and Junsheng grew up together—how could he treat you like this?!”
As she spoke, her voice suddenly softened, her eyes reddening. “Before your father died, he entrusted me… to ensure your marriage with Junsheng would be completed… Now things have turned out like this… how am I supposed to face him in the future? What should I say? That my daughter has become Junsheng’s concubine?”
These words pierced Viana’s heart like a dagger. She lifted her head, tears shimmering in her eyes. “Mother… things have already happened. We must resolve them. I don’t want Junsheng to just leave—it would only make everything worse.”
Stephanie gritted her teeth and strode quickly to the window, yanking open the heavy curtains. Cold wind rushed in, stirring her shawl. She turned back, speaking word by word: “I will handle this matter myself, in my own way! I will not let you suffer any injustice!”
Viana rushed forward and embraced her waist, choking with tears. “Mother… please don’t… I don’t want Junsheng to resent me… I only want everything to end properly.”
Stephanie looked down at her daughter in her arms, her brows tightly knit. Her gaze wavered for a moment, then hardened again. She gently pushed Viana away, her tone like iron: “I have made my decision. Say no more!”
The fire in the fireplace continued to burn, and the wind murmured outside the window. In the living room remained only the silent tension between two generations of women—one clinging to love, the other defending dignity. Neither was a victor; there was only deepening complexity and pain.
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94
Sunlight slanted through the blinds, falling across the dark brown wooden floor. In the small garden outside, bellflowers swayed gently in the breeze. An old wall clock above the fireplace ticked steadily, as if time itself had frozen within this conversation.
At the center of the living room, an oak tea table held a silver teapot and two porcelain cups that had barely been touched; the black tea had already grown lukewarm.
Stephanie sat in a carved high-backed chair, her hands clasped tightly on her knees, her gaze sharp as needles, fixed upon Helena across from her.
“…This is exactly what Viana told me!” she finally spoke, her voice low yet unable to suppress her anger.
Helena sat opposite her, leaning forward slightly, nervously rubbing the handkerchief on her lap. Her tone was earnest: “My dear in-law, I am truly very sorry. Junsheng’s marriage in the Far East… he did write to inform us. But at that time his father was still ill, and your husband had just passed away, so I… I put the matter aside for the time being.”
Stephanie’s brows furrowed sharply, her voice rising. “Since you already knew, why didn’t you make it clear before their wedding? If you had said it then, things would not have turned out like this!”
She suddenly stood and walked to the window, pulling open the sheer curtain. Sunlight streamed in at an angle, casting her figure into a rigid silhouette, revealing her suppressed emotions.
Helena lowered her head slightly, aware of her fault, her tone becoming even more humble. “Please forgive my selfishness. On one hand, I feared that if Jan knew Junsheng had started a family in the Far East on his own, his frail body would not withstand the shock. On the other… I did not want Junsheng to leave the Netherlands again, to leave this home. So when he returned… I… I found a way to keep him here.”
As she spoke, her eyes grew moist, her handkerchief clenched tightly, her knuckles pale.
Stephanie turned back and sat down again. Her tone softened slightly, yet remained firm. “I can understand your reasons. You did not want Junsheng to leave again—I understand… But we are both mothers. You think for your son, and I must seek justice for my daughter.”
Helena looked up, her tone softened. “Then tell me what to do. I am willing to listen.”
Stephanie took a sip of the now-cool tea, her tone calm yet underlined with tension. “Both our families will move to England and live together, so that Junsheng will completely abandon any thought of returning to the Far East.”
These words fell like a pebble into the teacup, creating ripples.
Helena froze for a moment and repeated softly, “Move to England… together?”
Stephanie nodded, her gaze firm. “I have purchased a countryside estate in the south. It is spacious and suitable for Jan’s recovery. From now on, we will no longer allow Junsheng to waver.”
Helena pondered briefly, then said slowly, “I understand your intention. Perhaps… this is the only way to stabilize everything.”
She lifted her head to meet Stephanie’s gaze. The eyes of the two mothers met in the air—complex, conflicted, yet ultimately rooted in love and protection for their children.
The firelight flickered in the fireplace, casting their silhouettes side by side upon the wall—no longer adversaries, but two women seeking order amid chaos.
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95
The afternoon sunlight slanted down beneath the arcade, where men, women, and children lined up waiting for treatment. Some sat on bamboo chairs coughing softly; some held children, soothing their cries; others, elderly and bent, leaned on canes as they waited their turn. Cooking smoke drifted from the street corner, mingling with the scent of herbal medicine and human sweat, filling the street with the breath of everyday life.
Father Matthews stepped under the arcade, and many patients nodded politely in greeting. He wore a white linen robe, holding a straw hat in his hand. A light sheen of sweat covered his forehead, and his face bore the fatigue of travel.
At the entrance of the clinic hung a cloth curtain, upon which were written the four characters “Junsheng Clinic” in firm and clear strokes. He lifted the curtain and stepped into the consultation room.
Inside, the air was filled with the fragrance of medicine. Bottles and jars were neatly arranged on shelves. On the table lay heavy medical books and instruments. Along the wall, two or three villagers sat waiting their turn.
Shayun, dressed in a dark work skirt and a blue headscarf, was bent over, bandaging a woman’s wrist. Her movements were skillful yet gentle.
Matthews stepped in quietly and said with a smile, “I just went to see the bishop at the church and came by to visit you on the way.”
Without turning back, Shayun raised her hand slightly in acknowledgment and said in a busy yet friendly tone, “Father, please sit and rest first. There’s tea in the corner—help yourself. I still have two patients to see.”
Matthews smiled, walked to the tea table, poured himself a cup, and sat on a bench, watching her busy figure with a gentle gaze.
“You’re so busy—how can your body endure this?” he asked with concern.
After finishing with the patient and personally seeing her out, Shayun removed her headscarf. Sweat already covered her forehead and neck. She wiped it with a handkerchief and said with a sigh, “There’s no choice. I’m the only one seeing patients. I can’t go any faster.”
After speaking, she stroked her swollen belly. Her body swayed slightly, and she quickly steadied herself by holding the edge of the table.
Matthews hurriedly stood and gently supported her arm, his tone more serious. “You must take better care of yourself. Don’t overwork.”
Shayun smiled lightly. “I’m fine. The baby is very well-behaved—just… a bit heavy.”
Matthews sat back down, speaking slowly. “If we calculate the timing, Andrew’s ship should be docking soon. However… by the time Junsheng finishes handling matters at home, he may not make it in time for Andrew’s ship. He will probably take another ship back, but… the timing is hard to determine.”

Chapter 19: The Devoted Shayun Gives Birth to a Daughter
96
Shayun gently sat down, her hand caressing her eight-month-pregnant belly, her tone carrying a trace of fatigue along with a trace of determination: “Two months ago, I received a letter from Junsheng, written from the Netherlands. He said that shortly after returning, his father passed away. After handling the funeral affairs, he missed Andrew’s ship… but he will take the next ship to come back.”
Mathew nodded, showing a comforting smile: “Mm, just as I estimated.”
From outside the clinic room came the cry of a baby; Shayun flinched slightly and turned to look toward the doorway, as if every sound might be Junsheng’s footsteps. She said softly, “From tomorrow, I will go to the docks to wait for him… every day I will go.”
After saying this, her voice trembled slightly, her gaze looking far into the distance, filled with deep longing and unease.
Mathew looked at her, her hand on her belly, and let out a gentle sigh, speaking with full emotion: “Ah… Junsheng is truly fortunate to have a wife like you.”
Shayun lowered her head, fingers gently caressing her abdomen, her eyes reddening, her voice light like a breeze: “I just hope… he really will come back… for us.”
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97
At dusk, the sea breeze lightly brushed Da Yuan Harbor. The clouds along the horizon were dyed orange-red, and merchant ships weaved in and out of the twilight, splashing waves layer upon layer. The wooden planks along the dock creaked, and the air carried a mixture of seawater, fishy scent, and the sun-warmed aroma of timber.
Shayun wore a loose, deep-blue cotton garment, her eight-month-pregnant belly prominent, stepping carefully up the stone steps, reaching the edge of the dock. One hand supported her belly, the other shielded her eyes from the remaining rays of the sunset, her gaze fixed on a ship slowly approaching from the sea, her eyes reflecting a mixture of anxiety, hope, and fatigue.
Every day at this hour, she would come, standing in the same spot, like a statue of prayer, silently guarding her lover’s return.
In the distance, a sailing ship approaching from Ryukyu neared the harbor, flying the flag of the East India Company, its smokestack puffing white smoke. On deck, a sun-darkened sailor lifted his telescope and scanned the shore, suddenly furrowing his brow.
“Captain, isn’t that Doctor Shayun who treats people?” Sailor A pointed to the familiar figure on the dock. “Why is she standing there? Is she… waiting for someone?”
The captain walked over from behind the wheel, took the telescope, glanced, and said calmly: “Yes. She is waiting for her husband, Mr. Junsheng, to return by ship.”
Sailor A removed his hat and held it against his chest, speaking with some sympathy: “Is that so? I remember seeing her standing there a few days ago. Every evening, she comes… her belly so large, yet she still comes to the dock every day. That’s not easy.”
The captain looked at the slightly trembling figure on the dock, let out a soft sigh, and murmured: “Shayun is a devoted woman… waiting for someone like this, anyone who sees it would feel heartache.”
Sailor A stood by the railing, suddenly waving to Shayun, then turned to the captain and said: “Sound the whistle. When she hears it, she will know it’s not that ship, maybe she’ll feel more at ease.”
The captain nodded, turned the brass wheel, and a hoarse whistle sounded, dragging a long echo through the dusk.
Shayun lifted her head, saw the sailor waving, and returned a faint smile. She gently pressed her hand to her belly and whispered to the child: “It’s not this ship, wait a little longer, Daddy will be back soon…”
In the dim light, her figure was solitary but resolute, like a goddess standing beside a lighthouse, silently praying that on the other side of the sea, a figure was coming, riding the wind.
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Ten years later, spring, February 1630, the dusk at Da Yuan (present-day Anping) Harbor was tinted with a layer of thin gold. The setting sun dyed the entire sea into fragmented amber, the wood along the dock carrying a salty, damp scent. Sailing ships, facing the wind, swayed with white sails as they entered the harbor. Waves lapped against the pier, and in the distance came the calls of fish vendors closing up and the laughter and shouts of sailors. Seagulls traced clean white arcs across the sky.
Shayun wore a simple, deep-gray cotton dress, standing at the railing of the harbor, hands tightly gripping her cloak as if trying to suppress the chill and the emptiness within. Beside her was ten-year-old Xiuyah, in a pure white dress, her long golden hair tied with a ribbon and draped over her shoulders like sunlight falling on morning mist. Her gaze was clear yet calm, showing maturity beyond her years.
The two of them stood motionless, staring at the harbor entrance, the waves concealing the hope they had been waiting for. Passing sailors and merchants occasionally stopped to look at the mother and daughter; some whispered among themselves, some merely lowered their heads slightly, as if paying respect to their vigil.
On a newly docked sailing ship, the elder sailor Andrew descended the rope ladder, wearing a wide-brimmed hat, his face weathered. Seeing Shayun and Xiuyah in the distance, he immediately removed his hat, raised it high while waving, and hurried over.
“Shayun, Xiuyah, sorry to keep you waiting!” he said, panting, his steps slightly limping, yet full of sincerity.
Shayun turned, a trace of hope flickering in her eyes, her voice trembling slightly: “Andrew, did… did you find out any news about Junsheng?”
Andrew’s expression darkened, he lowered his head, let out a long sigh, then slowly said: “Yes, I did find out. I found Junsheng’s former neighbors in Amsterdam… but the neighbors said that ten years ago he had already moved away, and the family’s whereabouts were unknown. I originally wanted to personally deliver your letter to him, but….”
He took the slightly wrinkled folded letter from his pocket and carefully handed it back to Shayun: “I’m sorry, I could not fulfill your request.”
Shayun took the letter, her fingertips trembling slightly, lowered her eyelids, lips tightly pressed, then after a moment whispered: “I wonder if he… is living well now.”
Andrew frowned, his tone slightly heavier: “Stop thinking about him! The neighbors said that shortly after returning, under his parents’ arrangement, he married a local woman, and after handling his father’s affairs, the family moved away, and there was no more news. He… had already chosen to let go.”
Shayun lowered her head, her knuckles gripping the letter tightly, her gaze slightly misty, her lips quivering, yet no tears fell.
Xiuyah turned her face slightly and asked in a small but clear and firm voice: “Uncle Andrew, father… was he really so heartless?”
Andrew looked at the little girl whose eyes were exactly like Junsheng’s, his tone grave: “Xiuyah, stop thinking about that unfaithful father. His choice is not worth your continued waiting.”
Shayun took a deep breath, carefully slipped the letter into her sleeve, forced herself to remain calm, and squeezed out a strained smile: “Andrew, this trip back from Europe must have exhausted you. Come to my house for dinner? I’ll invite Father Mathew to join… it’s been a long time since you’ve seen each other.”
Andrew nodded, a trace of gentleness appearing in his eyes: “All right. Let me finish settling the cargo accounts first, I’ll come over in the evening.”
The three of them exchanged smiles, though the smiles carried different weights within them.
Andrew turned and left, dragging his somewhat weary figure toward the other end of the dock. Shayun watched his receding back, her eyes distant, as if gazing along a shipping route that had already been severed.
The harbor wind lifted her hair, the sailboat raised newly repaired sails, and a few seagulls leapt between the masts, circling in the afterglow.
The music of Anping Recollection began to play slowly, its low melody intertwining with the sound of the waves like a dream. The camera gradually pulled away; the mother and daughter on the dock stood leaning on each other in the wind, their silhouettes long, like an unfinished longing.
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99
Inside Junsheng’s clinic dining room, candlelight softly reflected on the surroundings, the interior filled with the warmth and aroma of wooden furniture, the air seeming to carry the sound of time flowing. On the dining table, there were exquisite ceramic pots and plates. In the pot, venison was slowly stewing, steam rising slightly, the aroma wafting, fragrant and penetrating. The scent of the stewed meat mixed with the herbal aroma, making every inch of air in the room feel nourishing.
Andrew walked around the dining table, squinting slightly, taking a deep breath, smiling: “It smells so good! I can already feel myself getting healthier.” He picked up a pair of chopsticks, shook them slightly, clearly full of anticipation for the dish.
Shayun took a bowl of soup from a side dish and gently placed it in front of Andrew, smiling: “This pot of medicinal venison stew was prepared by Lalu with several Chinese herbs, both nourishing and strengthening. Andrew, since you’ve come all this way and have some rare time, you might as well eat more.”
Andrew took the bowl, carefully scooped some soup, tasted it, closing his eyes in bliss, gently nodding: “Mm, truly delicious! This flavor is flawless, as if every sip nourishes the body. But it’s a pity… Junsheng didn’t get to taste such goodness.” He put down the bowl, looking at Shayun who was busy nearby, a trace of sorrow in his tone.
Once these words were spoken, the atmosphere at the table immediately grew heavy. Everyone exchanged glances, each recalling memories long vanished. Shayun lowered her head, her gaze faintly confused, whispering: “If only he were still here… how wonderful that would be.”
Seeing this, Andrew gently put down his bowl, furrowed his brow, seeming to want to change the topic to ease the heaviness: “After finishing this Far East trip, I should leave the ship and go ashore. I’m not young anymore; it’s time to enjoy some peace and relaxation.”
Mathew, hearing Andrew’s words, let out a light laugh, his tone carrying a trace of ease: “Andrew, after all these years of storms, it’s finally time for you to rest. Old friends should also live a stable life.”
Andrew smiled faintly, taking a deep look at the friends gathered around him, his eyes carrying reluctance and gratitude: “Yes, at this age, the days on the ship are no longer so appealing. Even back on land, perhaps I can only enjoy some sun, drink a bit, taste some fish, and live quietly.” His tone carried nostalgia, seemingly unable to let go of past days.
At this moment, Shayun gently raised her wine glass, toasting Andrew: “Then today, let us toast properly for you. For the hardships over these years, for this extraordinary journey, and for a future of peaceful days.” Her gaze was warm and firm, yet subtly carried a barely perceptible sorrow.
Andrew smiled faintly, returning the toast: “Thank you. I hope that in the future, wherever we are, we can all live safely and happily.” His gaze lingered on everyone’s face as he raised the cup, as if wishing to treasure this moment of peace and harmony.
Mathew also raised his cup, a warm light flickering in his eyes: “Each of us deserves a stable life, though along the way, we’ve gained some things and lost others. May each of us find the place we truly belong.”
Shayun lightly tapped her cup on the table, smiling softly, her tone carrying a hint of hope: “Perhaps, someday in the future, everything will have its answer.”
They all smiled at each other. Though each hid past stories unknown to the others, at this moment, the food and wine on the table—whether the flavor of the venison or the unspoken emotional exchange—seemed to tell them that no matter what the past was, this present moment was still the most real.
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The Dabangya estate sat nestled in a verdant valley, surrounded by dense trees. Through the windows, sunlight slanted into the interior, illuminating carved wooden cabinets and thick carpets. The living room carried a faint scent of sandalwood, every corner filled with warmth and a tranquil atmosphere. Dabangya sat on a golden velvet sofa, holding Xiuyah in her arms, gently stroking her golden hair, her gaze full of affection and concern.
Xiuyah quietly nestled in her grandmother’s arms, her eyes carefree, still filled with innocence and expectation toward the world. Dabangya’s fingertips lightly stroked Xiuyah’s hair, sighing softly: “Poor child, from birth until now, she has never even seen her father.”
Li Qinghua sat on a nearby sofa, his face carrying a trace of worry, his tone calm yet helpless: “Shayun, stop waiting for Junsheng. He won’t come back. After so many years, the truth you should understand, you should have understood long ago.”
Dabangya turned her head, a barely perceptible sadness in her eyes, slowly speaking: “Yes, Shayun, Xiuyah should have a father to love her, so that she won’t grow up a lonely child.”
Xiuyah innocently tilted her head, looking at her grandmother, smiling without worry: “Grandma, I have Daddy Karly!” Her tone carried not a trace of concern, seeming to feel safe in this family.
Dabangya smiled faintly, yet inwardly sighed. She gently released Xiuyah, turning to Shayun, her tone warm and sincere: “Shayun, over these years, Karly has always accompanied you mother and daughter. He’s a man who cares for his family; why don’t you consider accepting him? This way, perhaps Xiuyah can have a complete family.”
Shayun sat by the window, her gaze distant, as if recalling past moments. Her hands tightly gripped the tea cup beside her, fingertips slightly trembling, her voice low: “Sena, I believe Junsheng will come back. He once promised me he would return.”
Dalai stood up from a nearby chair, approached Shayun, and whispered: “Stop being foolish, elder sister. If Junsheng really cherished you and Xiuyah, he would have come back long ago.” He looked at Shayun, his eyes carrying some helplessness and counsel, but more so anxiety for the future.
Shayun lowered her head, softly speaking to herself, her tone carrying persistence and a hint of sadness: “Junsheng said it himself, he would come back. No matter what happens, he will come back.” Her voice gradually weakened, as if no longer wanting to mention the past, yet the hope in her heart had never extinguished.
Dabangya shook her head, sighing softly, her gaze revealing some pain and disappointment. She reached out and gently covered Shayun’s hand with her own, her tone helpless: “Shayun, so many years have passed. You should know, reality’s cruelty is sometimes heavier than we imagine.”
The whole family fell silent for a moment, the air seemingly frozen in the room. The only sounds were the rustle of leaves in the breeze outside and distant birdsong. Each person seemed lost in their own world, silently enduring the pain and helplessness in their hearts.
At this moment, Dabangya gently patted Xiuyah’s back, holding her tightly, as if seeking some comfort, yet powerless to change reality.

Chapter Twenty: Shayun Opens a Clinic in Dayuan Harbor
101
Behind the bamboo fence in the backyard of Junsheng Clinic, sunlight filtered through sparse leaves and fell onto the ground, leaving a mottled pattern of light and shadow. Around were blooming flowers and the fresh fragrance of herbs, a gentle breeze carrying the clean scent of plants, making one involuntarily take a deep breath. Along the small path in the backyard, several bamboo-woven medicine baskets were placed, filled with various Chinese medicinal herbs. Ali and Xiuyah stood by a stone table; Ali was concentrating on guiding Xiuyah in identifying herbs.
In Ali’s hand was a sliced piece of Angelica root; he carefully explained: “This Chinese herb is called Angelica. Its flavor is rich, the medicinal property is sweet and warm with a moist quality, most commonly used to replenish blood. It is often paired with Rehmannia, White Peony, and other herbs, like the Four-Substance Decoction women often use to regulate their menstrual cycles.” He slightly lowered his head, extending the Angelica toward Xiuyah, and said softly, “Xiuyah, smell it.”
Xiuyah leaned a little closer, bringing her nose to Ali’s hand, inhaled deeply, her eyes brightening, her tone carrying a trace of surprise and delight: “So fragrant, such a strong smell! This scent reminds me of the fragrance of plants in autumn.”
Ali smiled and nodded slightly, seemingly satisfied with Xiuyah’s reaction. Nearby, Dalai and Karly were organizing other herbs; the bamboo baskets emitted faint clinking sounds. Dalai unintentionally glanced at Karly, his tone low but with a trace of helplessness: “Brother Karly, last night when my sister came home, Sena asked her whether she planned to take you as a son-in-law.”
Karly’s eyebrows lifted slightly; he paused while arranging a bundle of dried grass, turning to look at Dalai: “Then, what did Shayun say?”
Dalai slightly lowered his head, his tone carrying some weight: “My sister said she believes Junsheng will come back; she is still waiting. At that time, I advised her to let go, but she wouldn’t listen.”
After hearing this, Karly could not help but sigh softly; a trace of disappointment passed over his face. His hands still held the herbs, but he seemed to lack the energy to continue arranging them, his gaze drifting slightly: “Ah… the result is predictable…”
Dalai noticed Karly’s emotion, his heart stirred, and he walked toward him, his tone carrying sincerity and gratitude: “All these years, you have cared for my sister and her daughter like this; I’ve seen it all, Brother Karly.”
Karly smiled faintly, though a little helpless, yet his tone revealed a hint of relief. He lifted his hand and lightly patted Dalai’s shoulder, his tone gentle yet firm: “Being able to accompany Shayun is enough to satisfy me.”
Dalai silently nodded, a trace of reluctance in his eyes. He frowned slightly, speaking with a hint of anxiety: “But this isn’t fair to you, Brother Karly.” His tone conveyed concern and sympathy for Karly.
Karly lifted his head, his gaze firm yet gentle, smiling as he patted Dalai’s shoulder, his tone calm but full of strength: “I’ve come to terms with it…” He paused for a moment, a hint of depth flickering in his eyes, “Everyone has their own path. Being able to accompany her this far is already enough.”
These words fell like a heavy stone into a calm lake, leaving ripples, the surrounding air seeming to solidify. Ali and Xiuyah heard this and silently exchanged glances; the air was filled with an unspoken understanding. The backyard wind gently blew, the bamboo leaves rustling, providing a silent echo to their words.
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Inside the consultation room of Junsheng Clinic, the light was soft; faint candlelight illuminated wooden tables and chairs and the jars and bottles on the herb racks. The air was filled with a mixture of herbs and essential oils. Occasionally, the sea breeze brushed through, coming in through the window gaps, bringing a slight chill.
Bossman’s face was pale, pain tightly gripping his abdomen, a trace of cold sweat flickering in his eyes. He was being supported by two attendants, struggling to walk into the clinic’s consultation room. Each step was slow and heavy; each moment of pain seemed to devour him.
Seeing this, Lalu immediately stepped forward, worry deepening on her face: “Bossman, what’s wrong?”
Bossman’s eyes were filled with pain. He clenched his hands over his abdomen, his voice trembling: “My stomach… hurts badly, it’s killing me…”
Lalu furrowed her brows, urgently asking: “Did you eat something unclean, eat recklessly, and upset your stomach?”
Bossman shook his head, replying with difficulty: “No…”
Seeing his pain, Lalu could not help but exclaim: “Shayun, there’s a patient here, it’s Bossman!” Her voice carried a hint of urgency.
Shortly after, Shayun hurried in. Seeing the situation, her expression immediately became calm, though she could not hide the worry in her eyes. She quickly walked to the bedside, gently lifting Bossman’s hand, helping him settle into position, her tone soft yet carrying the calmness of a healer: “Bossman, where do you feel uncomfortable?”
Cold sweat already covered Bossman’s forehead; he clenched his teeth, speaking with difficulty: “It started as a dull pain around the navel, then moved to the lower right abdomen, unbearable.”
Hearing this, Shayun immediately extended both hands, gently pressing his lower right abdomen. When her fingers touched his skin, she felt the trembling of his muscles. “Is it here?” she asked softly, her tone professionally calm, yet her eyes faintly revealing concern.
Bossman’s complexion grew even paler, sweat beads sliding down his forehead. He whispered: “Yes, it’s there, the pain… is excruciating.”
Shayun immediately made a judgment; her expression became more serious. She stepped back slightly, concealing her worry: “This is not ordinary gastroenteritis. This may be acute appendicitis. If not treated promptly, it could be life-threatening.”
Upon hearing this, Bossman’s eyes instantly darkened; he swallowed with difficulty, his expression full of helplessness and frustration: “Surgery? That means lying in bed for a while…”
Shayun’s gaze became firm, her tone unwavering: “If we don’t operate, the inflammation will spread, possibly causing more severe complications. This would be fatal for you.” She gently patted Bossman’s shoulder, giving him some comfort: “Don’t worry, I will do my utmost.”
Hearing this, the pain on Bossman’s face could not hide a trace of helplessness; he whispered: “All right…”
Shayun lifted her head, looking at Lalu, her tone calm and decisive: “Lalu, go find Ali, have him prepare anesthesia and surgical instruments.”
Lalu nodded, immediately turning to prepare, walking quickly out of the consultation room. Her steps were swift and strong; her figure quickly disappeared at the doorway.
Shayun stood by the bedside, taking a deep breath, then fixed her gaze on Bossman’s pained face. She softly said: “Don’t worry too much, Bossman, I will be by your side.” Her hand again lightly touched Bossman’s hand, this simple gesture conveying reassurance and firmness.
At this moment, the consultation room was heavy and silent; the only sound was the sea breeze outside brushing the window, carrying a soft rustle. Bossman closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and felt a long-lost comfort. Although the pain remained, a spark of hope appeared in his heart.
103
The lighting in the ward was dim, and on the walls hung a few traditional medicinal herb paintings, adding a touch of rustic atmosphere. The air was permeated with a faint scent of herbs and a fresh blue aromatherapy fragrance, interwoven with the weak sunlight filtering through the window, making this simple ward filled with a healing ambiance. On the herbal rack beside the bed, some medicinal materials used after treatment were neatly arranged, all of which appeared calm and tranquil.
Boshimen lay quietly on the bed, covered with a thick blue blanket. His complexion was still pale, but the pain had eased somewhat. His lower right abdomen still ached faintly, but the post-operative calm allowed him to relax a little. At this moment, the ward door gently opened, and Lalu entered carrying a steaming bowl of porridge.
She gently pushed open the door to the ward, walked to the bedside, and smiled warmly, speaking softly: “Boshimen, get up and eat.”
Boshimen propped himself up with difficulty, his eyes slightly dim, carrying a trace of fatigue, and nodded slightly toward Lalu. “Thank you, Lalu.” He reached out to take the ceramic bowl from her hands, feeling the warmth radiating from the soup ladle, and a wave of warmth rose in his heart.
Boshimen carefully scooped some soup with the ladle and slowly drank a mouthful. The temperature of the soup was just right, and the sensation sliding down his throat allowed him to relax a little. Each time he drank, he paused, took a deep breath, and carefully savored the faint fragrance.
Lalu stood by the bed, looking down at him, and softly advised: “This is millet and venison porridge. Shayun specifically instructed me to prepare it, because your wound still needs time to heal. This porridge has a light flavor and is beneficial to you.”
Upon hearing this, Boshimen nodded slightly and continued to drink the soup carefully. Lalu’s gaze lingered on his slightly furrowed face, and she could not help but feel a hint of compassion. Her eyes were gentle, thinking: “This Boshimen really is pitiful, wandering alone in the world; no matter how hard he tries, he still seems solitary.”
Lalu slightly lowered her head, withdrew her thoughts, and gently adjusted Boshimen’s pillow to help him find a more comfortable position. Her fingers lightly touched his shoulder, the movements gentle and careful. Boshimen felt her touch, regained a little awareness, and looked at her, his eyes showing a trace of gratitude.
He whispered: “Lalu, thank you for being so attentive…”
Hearing his voice, Lalu’s face revealed a faint smile. She gently shook her head: “It’s nothing. This is what I should do.” Her tone carried a touch of warm concern. She then said: “Rest well. After finishing this, remember to rest more so you can recover faster.”
Boshimen nodded, his eyes revealing a trace of gratitude, and then lowered his head to continue eating the porridge. Lalu stood quietly by his side, watching him, feeling a subtle pang of sympathy in her heart. Although he rarely expressed his emotions, she understood that he must have endured much loneliness and pain.
The ward returned to quiet once again, with only Boshimen’s occasional soft cough and the gentle clinking of the soup ladle against the bowl echoing in this stillness.
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The Junsheng Clinic in the suburbs of London was located on a quiet street. The exterior walls of the clinic were covered with ivy, giving it an ancient and peaceful look. Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the curtains, illuminating the interior, and the wooden floor was polished smooth, emitting a faint woody fragrance. On the walls hung several medical illustrations and some thank-you cards from patients, making the clinic appear both warm and professional.
The bell at the door jingled, and Annie pushed the clinic door open, walking in with her slightly weary-looking son, Williams. Williams’ complexion was pale, and his hands clutched his mother’s sleeve tightly, clearly anxious due to discomfort.
Annie gently held her son’s hand and smiled at Junsheng: “Doctor, my son says he has not been feeling well for several days.”
Junsheng looked up, his eyes gentle yet focused. He stood from the desk and walked toward them. The air in the clinic was fresh, carrying a faint herbal fragrance. He lightly patted Williams’ head, his gaze soft: “Don’t worry, little one. Tell me, where does it hurt?”
Williams lowered his head slightly, suppressing his anxiety, and replied weakly: “I have a runny nose and a sore throat…” His small body trembled slightly, as if enduring discomfort.
Junsheng nodded slightly, smiled gently at Williams, and then reached out to touch Williams’ forehead. Williams furrowed his brow a little, feeling warm but did not resist. Junsheng’s fingers were cool to the touch. After checking, he softly said: “Hmm, your forehead is a little warm. Let me examine further.” He gently examined Williams’ eyes, found the pupil reactions normal, and then asked him to open his mouth to carefully inspect his throat.
Next, Junsheng picked up the stethoscope and gently placed it on Williams’ chest. His hands were steady and professional. The metal tube of the stethoscope swayed slightly in the air, producing a faint sound. Williams shivered slightly with discomfort but patiently cooperated.
After a few seconds, Junsheng removed the stethoscope and smiled at Annie and Williams: “A mild fever; it should be a seasonal flu. Keep resting over the next few days, drink warm water, and take your medicine on time, and you will recover.” He lightly patted Williams’ shoulder, his tone still gentle: “Remember to take your medicine on schedule, so you can get better quickly.”
Williams nodded, his eyes relaxing slightly. Though he was still a little uneasy, hearing the doctor’s words seemed to bring a small sense of comfort. “Okay, I will take the medicine,” he said quietly, his voice firmer than before.
Annie looked at her son, exhaling slightly, and turned to Junsheng, expressing gratitude: “Thank you, doctor.”
Junsheng smiled faintly and waved lightly: “It’s what I should do; there’s nothing to thank me for. Remember, let him rest more, so he can get better faster.” His tone carried a relaxed care, as if comforting them as a friend.
Annie nodded, holding Williams’ hand, saying to Junsheng: “I will, thank you.” She guided her son toward the clinic exit. Williams lifted his head slightly, looking at the doctor’s still-warm smile, and a little comfort rose in his heart.
The clinic returned to quiet once again. Outside, the wind gently swayed the curtains, and the sunlight still fell on the wooden floor, making the whole space even more serene.
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105
Morning sunlight filtered through the gaps in the curtains, illuminating the Junsheng Clinic with soft light. On the walls hung several ancient medical paintings, creating an atmosphere both quiet and comfortable. In the garden outside the clinic, a few blooming roses emitted a faint fragrance. Occasional birdcalls seemed to keep a distance from the outside clamor.
At that moment, the clinic doorbell jingled. Boshimen stood at the entrance, holding an exquisite gift box in his hands. Sunlight streamed from outside, casting a faint shadow on his silent face. He appeared slightly nervous, hesitated for a moment at the door, and then stepped into the clinic.
Boshimen looked toward Lalu, who was sitting behind the counter, and walked gently over. He slightly lowered his head, handing the gift box to her with a trace of apology. “Lalu, thank you for taking care of me recently. This is a small token of my appreciation.” His tone was sincere. He held the gift box with both hands, seeming somewhat at a loss.
Lalu looked up, a hint of surprise in her eyes. Her straightforward nature made her ill at ease in this situation. She glanced at the exquisite gift box, then reached out to take it, smiling slightly: “Why be so polite? Taking care of patients is my duty. It’s no big deal.” Her tone was gentle, but her eyes conveyed a subtle refusal.
Lalu opened the gift box. Inside was a lustrous pearl necklace and several vividly colored gemstones. She paused, gently closed the lid, and returned the gift to Boshimen: “This gift is too valuable. I cannot accept it.” Her tone was firm. Her hands trembled slightly, seemingly unsure how to handle this gesture.
Boshimen looked at the gift returned to him, a hint of embarrassment on his face. He sighed softly, slightly bending down, his tone carrying a bit of bitterness: “Lalu, don’t be like this! I really appreciate your care for me. This is just a small token. Please don’t refuse me.”
At that moment, Shayun walked over and saw the scene. She spoke softly: “Lalu, please accept Boshimen’s goodwill, okay?” Her tone was gentle as she lightly patted Lalu’s shoulder, signaling her to let down her guard.
Lalu slightly furrowed her brows, looking at the gift box in her hands. Her eyes still showed some struggle. “No. If I accept such a valuable gift, it will never end,” she said quietly. Her tone was firm, yet faintly tinged with helplessness.
Boshimen, hearing this, looked somewhat disappointed. He turned to leave, his steps slightly heavy, as if he had made up his mind to give up. Shayun, seeing this, could not help but say: “Lalu, see? Boshimen seems very sad.” She sighed slightly, her eyes full of understanding and a trace of pity.
Lalu watched Boshimen’s figure gradually recede outside, and said coldly: “Let him go, then? None of those Western men are trustworthy. I’ve clearly seen how Junsheng has treated you all these years.” Her tone carried some disdain and distrust.
Shayun’s expression grew serious. She gently grabbed Lalu’s arm and spoke softly: “Perhaps Junsheng has his reasons. But Boshimen has shown his feelings to you. Why push him away?” Her tone carried a hint of softness and persuasion, her eyes revealing a trace of concern.
Lalu waved her hand, seemingly unwilling to continue the topic. “Western men are all unfaithful in matters of love. I won’t be deceived!” Her voice sounded cold. Her facial expression showed determination, and her eyes held a faint trace of painful memory.
Shayun sighed softly and silently stood aside, watching Boshimen’s figure gradually disappear outside, and an inexplicable sense of melancholy rose in her heart.

Chapter Twenty-One: The Graceful and Enchanting Blonde Lady
106
Bosman walked into the backyard of Junsheng’s clinic. This was a quiet place, surrounded on all sides by a row of tall trees. The shadows of the trees dappled the ground, and a gentle breeze passed through the gaps between the leaves, lightly brushing his cheeks. The flowers and plants in the backyard were arranged in an orderly yet varied fashion, and a few wildflowers quietly bloomed under the sunlight, bringing a fresh fragrance. Bosman’s footsteps sounded particularly clear in the quiet courtyard. His gaze swept across the surroundings, finally resting on the figure of Lalu.
He carried a set of exquisite formalwear in his hands, walking toward Lalu with a complex mixture of emotions. As he approached, he bent slightly at the waist and extended the formalwear toward her. “Lalu, you refused to accept the necklace and the gemstones last time, but please, you must accept this set of formalwear,” Bosman said, his tone sincere and firm, his eyes filled with expectation.
Lalu stood in a corner of the yard, beside her was a pot of lush green plants. She reached out to take the formalwear, looked down at it, but did not respond immediately. She lifted her head, a faint cold smile on her face, her tone carrying refusal: “Bosman, don’t waste your efforts. I will not accept you. None of you Western men are any good.” Her voice was calm, but her eyes revealed a trace of distrust.
Bosman took a deep breath, his tone even more earnest: “Lalu, I am serious. I want to be in a relationship with you.” His voice was low, carrying a determination that could not be ignored. His hands trembled slightly, as if from nervousness, and he unconsciously gripped the edges of the formalwear.
At this moment, Kali, standing nearby, overheard their conversation and stepped in to insert himself into the gap between them. His steps were steady, each one conveying his firmness and strength. Kali approached Bosman, his tone carrying a warning: “Bosman, I consider you our friend, but my sister has already said she won’t accept you. You’d better take care of yourself and stop pestering her.”
Bosman remained calm, looking at Kali and trying to explain: “Kali, listen to me. I was recently hospitalized for surgery, and Lalu took care of me attentively. I realized that Lalu is the woman I have been dreaming of. I am sincere about her. Please allow me to be in a relationship with her.”
Kali’s eyes turned cold. He reached out and forcefully poked Bosman in the chest, his tone challenging: “Bosman, listen carefully. You are a Westerner, and Junsheng is also a Westerner. He has caused Shayun so much suffering. How could I possibly let my sister fall into the same trap? Therefore, I will not agree to you being in a relationship with Lalu.”
Bosman frowned, his voice passionate: “Kali, you are being too domineering. Pursuing Lalu is my freedom.” He could not help raising his voice slightly, his emotions stirred.
Kali narrowed his eyes slightly. Upon hearing this, he suddenly rolled up his sleeves, revealing his strong arms, and walked steadily toward Bosman, his tone provocative: “I am Lalu’s brother, and I have the duty to protect her. If you do not heed my advice, then accept my challenge. Beat me, and you may pass this hurdle.”
Bosman smiled faintly, his tone firm: “Very well, Kali, I will accept.” He gently placed the formalwear aside, took off his jacket, revealing a solid muscular physique. He stood upright, ready to face the challenge.
The two of them began to assume sumo stances in the yard. The sound of their bodies colliding echoed through the quiet backyard. Bosman and Kali were evenly matched in strength, pushing and shoving each other. They struggled for a while, still unable to determine a victor. Sweat dripped down their faces, and neither relaxed their vigilance. Lalu stood to the side, shaking her head helplessly. She watched the struggle, her brows showing a trace of fatigue.
Xiuyah, hearing the commotion, curiously walked over. She stood at a distance watching for a while and could not help murmuring: “What are these two men doing fighting in the backyard?”
Shayun, hearing the noise in the backyard, could not help asking: “Xiuyah, who is arguing in the backyard?”
Xiuyah placed her hands on her hips, adopting a casual stance, and replied: “It’s Godfather and Uncle Bosman. They are having a bullfight.” Her tone carried a hint of curiosity, clearly showing interest in this “bullfight.”
Shayun furrowed her brows, clearly puzzled by this situation: “A bullfight? Over what?”
Xiuyah shrugged helplessly: “I don’t know. When I got to the backyard, they were already fighting.”
Shayun smiled helplessly: “I’ll go check it out.” She walked toward the backyard with elegant and swift steps.
When Shayun arrived in the backyard, she happened to see Kali and Bosman stopping, both panting. It was clear the struggle had ended. Both were sweating heavily, their clothes slightly disheveled. Kali patted Bosman on the shoulder, showing a faint appreciative smile: “Bosman, I didn’t expect you to be quite strong. This shows your body condition is not bad.”
Bosman wiped the sweat from his forehead, smiling in reply: “You’re not bad either, Kali, like a wild bull.” His tone carried a hint of jest. After the struggle, he clearly felt some respect for Kali.
Kali patted his clothes, brushing off the dead leaves, and said with some seriousness: “You had the courage to accept my challenge. Although we couldn’t determine a winner, your sincerity moved me. I agree to you being in a relationship with Lalu.”
Bosman smiled and nodded, his tone grateful: “Thanks, Kali. You’re quite reasonable.”
Kali suddenly changed the topic, his tone turning serious: “However, I have said this before. If you want to become Lalu’s husband, according to our local customs, you must marry into our family.”
Bosman did not hesitate at all, his tone resolute: “As long as Lalu is willing to accept me, it doesn’t matter where I live after marriage.”
Shayun walked over, looking at the two men, and teased with a smile: “Two grown men, yet acting like children.”
Lalu shook her head helplessly on the side, sighing softly: “There’s nothing I can do! I’m too lazy to advise them.” Her tone carried a touch of helplessness and humor, yet her eyes subtly revealed a deep fatigue.
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107
(Ten Years Later)
The Chikan Village cemetery was quiet and solemn. A gentle breeze brushed across the moss-covered tombstones, bringing a slight chill. The surrounding trees were lush, their branches intertwined, and sunlight poured through the sparse gaps, illuminating patches of green grass. Several ancestral tablets stood quietly before the graves, as if silently guarding the land. Shayun, Xiuyah, Dalai, and Kali stood before Dabangya’s grave, hands clasped, gazes lowered, their postures slightly heavy. The surroundings were completely silent, save for the occasional bird call and the rustling of leaves in the breeze.
Shayun’s face showed slight fatigue, yet her eyes sparkled with determination. She gently closed her eyes, silently praying. Kali stood beside her, fists clenched, brows slightly furrowed, seeming burdened with concern. He spoke softly, breaking the silence: “Shayun, don’t you plan to move Junsheng’s clinic back to the village?”
Shayun slowly opened her eyes, looking toward the familiar land in the distance. Her tone was calm but carried a trace of firmness: “No! I will stay at Dayuan Port. The affairs of the village have always been handled by you and a few elders.”
Kali remained silent for a moment, then turned to look at the surrounding tombstones, saying in a deep voice: “I know you insist on staying at Dayuan Port to wait for Junsheng, but your status is different now. You are the head.” His tone carried a mix of helplessness and reluctance, but more so understanding and concern for Shayun.
Shayun shook her head gently, seemingly unwilling to discuss these matters further. She turned to Kali, her tone still firm: “I know I am the head, but that does not mean I must change everything.” Her tone carried a trace of resolve. Compared to her past gentleness, at this moment Shayun appeared more mature and decisive.
At this time, Lalu, standing nearby, spoke softly, her eyes showing some helplessness: “Kali, don’t force me. If you think I am unfit to be the head, you can convene the elders’ council and re-elect the head.” Her tone was calm, but the determination behind it could not be ignored.
Kali’s brows furrowed slightly. He turned to look at Lalu, his tone carrying some anxiety: “Shayun, you know I don’t mean that. I just don’t want to hear the villagers complain about you behind your back.” His voice revealed concern, and his hands unconsciously clenched, as if wanting to entrust all his strength to her.
Lalu smiled faintly, her gaze soft yet still resolute. She reached out and lightly patted Kali’s shoulder, her tone gentle but carrying strong conviction: “Let them be.” She lightly shook her head, seemingly accustomed to such challenges and doubts. Her posture was relaxed yet commanding, as if in the stillness of this cemetery, she had reached a tacit understanding with these disputes.
Kali was momentarily stunned, then sighed deeply. His hands relaxed, and his tone softened: “Alright, since you say so, I won’t say more.” He looked at Shayun, his gaze revealing resignation but mostly understanding and support. He lightly patted his chest, suppressing his concerns, ready to continue accompanying her.
The four of them continued to silently pray before the graves. The surrounding air grew ever quieter, as if time itself had stopped on this sacred land.
108
On the streets of the major port town, it was the afternoon, and sunlight poured down, illuminating the busy marketplace and the harbor. In the distance, ships gently swayed on the sea, and the sea breeze carried a salty scent. On both sides of the street were various shops, and vendors loudly called out, selling local fruits, handicrafts, and all kinds of seafood. People came and went, the scene bustling with activity.
Xiuyah, dressed in traditional Siraya attire, walked quietly among the crowd, the long hem of her skirt swaying lightly with each step. Her golden hair glistened in the sunlight, forming a sharp contrast with the everyday market scene around her. A few passing foreign merchants stopped in their tracks, their gazes inadvertently falling upon her.
Tom pointed with his hand, his tone tinged with surprise: “Look! That blonde girl, well-proportioned, and with a sweet face.”
Durand’s eyes flickered slightly, his brow furrowing, as he quietly asked: “Don’t you think there’s something a bit strange?”
Vincent glanced sideways and asked thoughtfully: “You mean her clothing?”
Durand looked at Xiuyah’s attire and could not help speaking: “Exactly. Judging by her clothing, she should be a local, but her blonde hair, facial features, and figure are clearly not like the people here.”
Tom continued staring at Xiuyah, a hint of admiration in his eyes: “Hmm, indeed. Maybe she’s the wife of some foreign merchant?”
Weber raised his eyebrows slightly, his tone tinged with curiosity: “Could she be married to a local?”
Durand shook his head, seemingly unconvinced by such speculation: “I haven’t heard of that, but perhaps she’s of mixed blood.”
Tom smiled and responded: “Hmm! Could be. Let’s ask some local merchants, maybe we can find out more.”
Vincent smiled, hands in his pockets, his tone teasing: “Tom, you seem quite interested in her, huh?”
Tom pouted, feigning indifference, and said casually: “Come off it! Vincent, aren’t you interested in her?”
Tom’s tone carried a hint of provocation, and he lightly pinched the pipe in his hand, a gesture casual yet unconsciously challenging.
Vincent let out a light chuckle, slightly shrugging, a playful glint in his eyes: “I’m not particularly interested in her, but the way you’re acting could easily be misinterpreted.”
Tom helplessly pouted, reached up to adjust his collar, then took a deep drag from his pipe and replied in a slightly teasing tone: “Maybe I just find her special, but you know, the women here always have unique characteristics.”
At that moment, Xiuyah heard the discussion behind her but did not turn around, merely frowning slightly. Her steps were light yet unhurried, her posture soft yet confident, as if she had long grown accustomed to the gazes around her, still keeping her own rhythm.
As a cart passed down the street, a sudden clamor momentarily drew the four foreign merchants’ attention. Tom headed toward a local street-side shop, seemingly deciding to investigate further.
At the same time, the church door creaked slightly as young foreign merchant Williams jumped down from a bullock cart, dressed in the simple cloth garments typical of merchants, his face bearing a trace of fatigue yet a pleasant smile. The cart owner followed, unloading bundles of grain and bolts of cloth. Williams moved toward the church with practiced ease, his tall figure forming a striking contrast with the surrounding scene.
Williams bent slightly and greeted Father Pliny standing at the doorway: “Father Pliny, I’ve brought some grain and cloth, these are for the church.”
Pliny looked up at Williams, a kind smile on his face, his gaze gently sweeping over the items in Williams’ hands, then responded: “Thank you, Williams. Come inside to rest for a bit? It’s so hot outside, you must be tired after walking.”
Williams entered the church, hearing the children singing hymns along with the organ. He walked toward the direction of the prayer room, standing at the doorway to listen to the beautiful melody. The tone of the organ intertwined with the children’s voices, as if enveloping the entire church in a peaceful atmosphere. Williams could not help but furrow his brow slightly, curiosity in his eyes.
Williams whispered to Pliny, his tone carrying a hint of surprise and admiration: “What a beautiful girl! Father, may I ask, is she…?”
Pliny turned and answered gently: “She is Xiuyah, the daughter of Dr. Sha Yun of Junsheng Clinic.” He pointed to Xiuyah and smiled as he continued: “She often comes here to help. This child is very well-behaved and intelligent.”
Williams furrowed his brow slightly, curious about Xiuyah’s golden hair, his gaze following her figure, his tone tinged with puzzlement: “How does she have blonde hair?”
Pliny nodded lightly, a hint of sentiment in his voice: “Her father came from the Netherlands, but the girl has never met her biological father since birth. Her mother passed away when she was very young, and the child grew up within our community.”
Williams let out a soft sigh, a trace of sympathy in his eyes: “I see. Her background is truly pitiful.” He stroked his chin, paused in thought, then asked: “Then how did she come to help at the church?”
Pliny displayed a gentle smile, his eyes full of warmth: “A few days ago, she voluntarily came to help at the church. When she was little, she often wandered around here.” He recalled the past, his tone filled with appreciation: “She is a kind and intelligent child, always willing to help others.”
Williams’ gaze softened slightly, and he nodded, feeling more admiration and curiosity toward the girl.
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109
Inside the reception room of Junsheng Clinic, the surroundings were simply yet warmly arranged, the wooden furniture exuding a faint resin scent. On the table sat a freshly picked flower, its petals slightly wilted, seemingly in harmony with the quiet, serene moment of this space. Sha Yun and Kahl sat on one side, a tea set placed before them, a copper kettle gently steaming as it boiled water, occasionally letting out a crisp hissing sound. Sunlight streamed through the window, casting mottled patterns on the wooden floor.
A knock sounded at the door, followed by the appearance of the elderly German merchant Vincent and his son Vincent, carrying delicate gift boxes, entering the reception room. The elder Vincent had a polite smile on his face, walking steadily, his eyes showing a mix of confidence and humility. His son Vincent appeared somewhat nervous, tightly holding the gift box, his posture slightly stiff.
The elder Vincent bent slightly, smiling, and greeted Sha Yun respectfully but with a hint of urgency: “Doctor Sha Yun, I have long admired your reputation here. I and my younger son Vincent have come to formally seek your daughter’s hand for him.” He gently placed the gift box on the table, his gaze resting on Sha Yun’s face, seemingly awaiting her reaction.
Kahl frowned, his displeasure obvious on his face. He stared coldly at the father and son, his tone carrying a warning not to be ignored: “You foreign merchants are persistent, one after another, all trying to make moves on my daughter. I will never agree to her marrying a foreigner.” His voice was heavy and sharp, signaling that this request was not open to negotiation.
He gestured slightly with his hand, as if completely pushing away the proposal. This sudden response froze the atmosphere instantly; the elder Vincent’s expression shifted slightly, while his son lowered his head, his eyes full of embarrassment.
Sha Yun gently adjusted her glasses, looking at Kahl with soft eyes, and spoke quietly: “Guests are guests, Kahl, don’t be like this.” Her tone was gentle yet filled with irrefutable reason. She stood lightly beside Kahl, attempting to calm the tension about to erupt.
She turned to the elder Vincent, smiling slightly, her tone calm: “Kahl is my daughter’s godfather; his temper isn’t very good. Please forgive him.” She deliberately used a lightly dismissive tone to defuse the awkward situation.
The elder Vincent laughed awkwardly, nodded slightly, his tone tinged with embarrassment yet also resigned: “It’s alright, really, it’s alright.” He adjusted his collar, then lowered his head, seemingly silently regulating his emotions.
Sha Yun continued gently: “My daughter is still young, there’s no rush to find her a husband, and regarding marriage, I respect her own thoughts and choices.” Her tone carried a hint of firmness and gentleness, showing her stance as a mother, yet also respecting her daughter’s independent decision.
The elder Vincent nodded, looking understanding, his tone warm: “Of course, young people usually have their own ideas.” His response contained a hint of helplessness, clearly realizing that things would not be as easy as he hoped.
However, Kahl’s tone remained harsh, his pace quickened, full of undeniable firmness: “You need not waste your efforts. You foreigners are unreliable; we will not marry into foreign families.” His words were full of rejection, having already decided the outcome, leaving no room for rebuttal.
Sha Yun furrowed her brow lightly, sighed softly, and walked to Kahl’s side, gently patting his shoulder, her tone soft yet firm: “Kahl, just say a little less.” Her eyes showed some helplessness, but also indicated her attitude toward the issue—despite Kahl’s strong emotions, she chose a rational way to balance the conversation.
Kahl waved his hand, still displeased, but evidently, under Sha Yun’s persuasion, his tone softened slightly. The elder Vincent relaxed slightly, pushing the gift box to the center of the table, his eyes filled with anticipation, waiting for Sha Yun’s response.
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110
In the backyard, the air was filled with the fresh fragrance of plants. A few bamboo stalks swayed gently in the breeze, making a rustling sound. Several sparrows hopped on the fence, their occasional chirps breaking the silence. Kahl squatted on the ground, organizing a pile of dried herbs, the fresh scent of the medicinal plants blending with the fragrance of the earth. His expression was heavy, brows tightly furrowed, clearly in a bad mood. Beside him stood Lalu and the Boschmann couple. Lalu held their little daughter Jiamei, who gazed curiously at the herbs on the ground, occasionally reaching out to touch them.
Lalu gently rocked Jiamei’s carrier strap and looked at Kahl, asking softly: “Brother, what’s wrong? Why do you have such a sour look on your face?” Her tone was full of concern, though her eyes held some puzzlement.
Kahl still did not look up, replying in a low voice: “Earlier, another pair of foreign merchant father and son came to propose to Sha Yun, and I drove them away.” His voice carried a mix of helplessness and anger, clearly still upset about the matter.
Lalu glanced at Kahl’s expression, sighed softly, and advised gently: “Oh! Do you really need to be so angry?” She raised her hand to gently pat Jiamei’s back, as if soothing her unease.
Kahl placed the herbs heavily into the grass basket, without looking up, saying: “I don’t want Xiuyah to marry a foreigner!” His tone was somewhat agitated, fingers unconsciously rubbing the herbs, as if this helped release his inner anxiety.
Lalu raised her eyebrows slightly, her tone gentle yet rational: “Not all foreigners are bad. Besides, Xiuyah herself will choose her marriage partner. Why are you worrying so much?” She lowered her head, looked at Jiamei, and gently held her small hand, softly redirecting attention to her own daughter.
Boschmann stood aside, looking down at the tools in his hands, suddenly agreeing: “My wife is right; many foreigners are good people, like me.” He patted his chest, his tone slightly self-mocking and resigned, seemingly defending himself.
Kahl suddenly looked up, a challenging glint in his eyes, his tone firm: “That’s different. Xiuyah is my daughter, of course I care about her marriage.” He straightened up, his gaze like steel, revealing a strong protective instinct.
Lalu shook her head lightly, her tone still gentle yet insistent: “Brother, you may care for Xiuyah, but as for whom she dates and chooses to marry, you must respect Xiuyah’s own thoughts.” She adjusted Jiamei’s carrier strap gently, turning sideways to meet Kahl’s gaze, a soft appeal in her eyes.
Kahl remained silent for a moment, his expression stubborn, his tone growing heavier: “Anyway, I will not let Xiuyah marry a foreigner, to give her the same fate as Sha Yun.” His voice was filled with fear and unease for the future, a fate beyond his control already looming.
Boschmann remained silent for a moment, then lifted his head, his tone calm yet careful: “I must speak fairly. Whether Xiuyah marries a foreigner is not the point. If she truly likes someone and will live happily after marriage, that is what matters.” His reasoned and reflective tone slightly eased the scene, giving a clear sense of logic.
Lalu listened to Boschmann, nodded slightly, and said more lightly: “Brother, to be honest, Boschmann is more insightful than you.” She smiled faintly, her eyes playful yet sincere.
Kahl raised his brow, his tone tinged with disagreement: “I will find a local match for Xiuyah, so she won’t leave here and cross the seas to a foreign land.” His tone was so firm it was almost irrefutable, revealing a father’s anxiety and concern for his daughter’s future.
Lalu shook her head gently, her gaze passing through Kahl to the distant future, her tone soft but filled with wisdom: “But brother, Xiuyah’s choice is the most important.”

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Chapter 22 – The Tacit Understanding Between Xiuyah and Williams
111
In the early morning at Dayuan Port, sunlight streamed through the church’s stained glass windows, casting multicolored rays onto the stone floor, weaving a soft pattern. Inside the prayer room, there was complete silence, and the air carried the characteristic scent of the church, mixed with the smell of wood and ancient fabrics. Xiuyah was squatting in a corner, concentrating on cutting a piece of fabric. Her movements were light and skillful, and the sound of scissors meeting the cloth echoed in the air. Her face revealed a calm and gentle expression, as if in that moment, her world consisted solely of these fabrics and the clothes she was about to complete.
Suddenly, the large church door was gently pushed open, and Father Matthews and Williams entered the prayer room. Matthews spoke in a low voice: “Xiuyah, are you busy?” His tone was gentle, with a hint of concern.
Xiuyah lifted her head and gave a slight smile; the fabric in her hands swayed lightly with her movement, and the light falling on her face made her look even softer. She said, “Uncle, I am sewing a few clothes for children.” Her voice was clear, carrying a hint of ease.
Matthews nodded and turned to introduce Williams: “Let me introduce him. This is Williams, from England. He is one of our faithful parishioners and often donates food and bolts of fabric.” He slightly turned his body, signaling for Williams to stand in front of Xiuyah.
Williams extended his hand slightly and bowed, speaking politely and gently: “Xiuyah, I am very pleased to meet you.” His eyes involuntarily paused for a moment as he looked at Xiuyah, secretly astonished. He thought: What a beautiful girl! But he quickly suppressed this surprise, maintaining the demeanor of an English gentleman.
Matthews laughed and added: “Englishmen value gentlemanly manners; you will get used to it soon.” He patted Williams lightly on the shoulder, speaking in a friendly tone.
Xiuyah gave a slight smile, lifted the fabric in her hands, and gently set it down, her gaze meeting Williams’ softly through the light. “So you are the kind-hearted young man my uncle spoke of. I am glad to meet you.” Her tone was calm and sincere, and her hands gently arranged the fabric, making her appear natural and composed.
Matthews smiled and nodded, speaking softly: “You two talk for a while; I will first go attend to things in the chapel.” Saying this, he turned and walked lightly toward the other end of the church.
Williams remained standing, his eyes still on the fabric in Xiuyah’s hands. He stepped a few paces closer, speaking gently, with a hint of emotion: “You sew clothes for the children with your own hands; this kindness moves me.” His gaze sparkled with sincerity and respect, seemingly filled with admiration for Xiuyah’s actions.
Xiuyah smiled, shaking her head slightly, speaking humbly: “It is only a small effort. Compared to you, this is nothing.” She lowered her head and continued her work, her fingers skillfully adjusting the position of the fabric, seemingly unsurprised by Williams’ praise.
Williams was silent for a moment, then spoke with slightly more affection: “When I was young, my family was not well-off, so I made a vow that when I had the means, I would help as much as possible those in need.” His tone was calm, but his eyes subtly revealed memories of the past and a firm promise for the future.
Xiuyah lifted her head, her gaze gentle, as if listening to Williams’ inner voice. She nodded slightly and said in agreement: “It is rare to have such kindness. You seem unlike those other foreign merchants, who only think about making money.” Her tone carried a hint of admiration and understanding, unconsciously revealing a favorable impression of Williams compared to other merchants.
Hearing this, Williams’ lips curled slightly into a warm smile, tinged with relief: “Money will never run out, but people should not live as slaves to it.” The firmness and ease in his tone made the atmosphere even warmer.
A light sparkle appeared in Xiuyah’s eyes. She smiled and said: “Tonight I am going to cook dinner for the children. You can stay and join them. They have been wanting to meet the kind young man the bishop mentioned, that is, you.” She gently set down the needle and thread in her hands, stood up, and lightly brushed her fingers over the table, signaling him to follow her toward the kitchen.
Williams’ eyes were filled with emotion. He nodded slightly, speaking with sincere anticipation: “I am honored to accept your invitation.” He lowered his head slightly, a faint smile at the corners of his mouth, already looking forward to spending time with these children.
112
In the church dining hall, the round chandelier emitted warm light, illuminating the entire room. Around twenty children sat at long tables, which were filled with food: two large wooden barrels of fragrant assorted porridge, several plates of stir-fried vegetables, peanuts, and a plate of golden fried tofu skin. The colors and aroma of the food were mouthwatering. The children’s laughter and chatter arose in waves, filling the air with warmth and energy.
Williams sat at the table, looking at the children, speaking with surprise and delight: “Children, do you usually eat so well?” His gaze scanned the food on the table, revealing concern.
A boy raised his small hand excitedly and replied: “Not before. Only after Sister Xiuyah came did we get so much to eat.” As soon as he finished speaking, he eagerly scooped a spoonful of porridge into his mouth, his face showing a satisfied smile.
A girl held a bowl of vegetables, her eyes bright, looking somewhat shy: “Sister Xiuyah cooks very well! Her food is delicious.” She lowered her head slightly, chewing the leaves, seemingly wanting to continue speaking.
Williams smiled, looking at these carefree children, responding cheerfully: “Yes! This is the first time I have eaten such tasty assorted porridge.” He lightly touched the edge of his plate, feeling the warmth of the atmosphere.
At this moment, Xiuyah walked over from the side. She stood at the edge of the table, slightly bent down, and spoke gently to the children: “Children, the food you are eating and the clothes you are wearing were all donated by this kind-hearted young man. His name is Williams; let us all thank him together.” Her tone was gentle and cordial, causing the children to lift their heads with eyes full of gratitude.
The children shouted in unison: “Thank you, kind big brother!” They spoke while raising their bowls together, as if showing their appreciation to Williams.
Williams’ eyes narrowed slightly, feeling warmth from their innocent smiles. His hand moved lightly to indicate that they need not be so formal, and with a pleasant smile, he said: “No need to be so polite. I just did what I should.”
Xiuyah continued: “These children come from nearby villages. Due to family misfortunes, they were referred to us by the village churches. They usually live here in the church, and occasionally the bishop arranges for a cart to take them back to their villages to reunite with their families for a few days.” Her tone carried a hint of sorrow but also deep responsibility. She stood at the table, lightly patting the head of a little girl, as if comforting her.
Williams was silent for a moment, then nodded deeply, speaking respectfully: “These children are truly fortunate to receive such complete care.” He looked at Xiuyah, his eyes revealing a mix of surprise and admiration, sensing the care provided here for the children.
Xiuyah smiled lightly, her tone carrying pride: “All of this was planned under Uncle Matthews’ guidance. He is a priest with a heart for doing good.” Her hand lightly rested on the edge of the table; her tone was calm yet filled with gratitude.
Williams tilted his head slightly, speaking softly: “I heard from Bishop Matthews that he watched you grow up.” His concern was subtly evident, showing increased interest in Xiuyah’s past.
Hearing this, Xiuyah lowered her head quietly, her fingertips tapping the table lightly, as if pondering something. After a moment, she slowly lifted her head and responded faintly: “Yes! Besides my godfather and Aunt Lalu, Uncle Matthews also takes good care of us.” Her tone carried a hint of resignation, as if she had reached a peaceful acceptance of the past.
Hearing this, Williams could not help but sigh, his tone full of sympathy: “Hearing you say this makes me feel sorry for you, though you seem very optimistic and cheerful.” He reached out and lightly patted Xiuyah’s shoulder, wanting to offer her some comfort.
Xiuyah looked at Williams’ hand, smiled slightly, her tone light and resolute: “I am not sad! I still have Godfather Kalli.” Though her smile carried a trace of effort, her inner strength was evident.
113
On the beach by Dayuan Harbor, the sunset dyed the horizon in golden-red hues, and the waves gently lapped against the shore, producing a low and melodious sound. A soft breeze brushed past, carrying a faint salty scent along with grains of sand, while seagulls circled in the sky, occasionally letting out a few crisp cries. Xiuyá and Williams walked side by side on the sand, which rose and fell lightly under their steps. Xiuyá’s long skirt danced gently in the wind, rustling softly. She occasionally looked down at her footprints, her mood light and cheerful.
In the distance, a bullock cart approached slowly. On the cart sat Ali, whose gaze inadvertently caught sight of the two figures afar. The wheels pressed over the sand with a deep sound. Ali suddenly stopped the bullock cart, squinting his eyes slightly and focusing on the scene.
Ali murmured to himself in a low voice: “Isn’t that Xiuyá? Why is she walking together with a foreign young man?” Surprised, he lightly gripped the cart handle, checked again, then something stirred in his heart. He released the handle, letting the bullock cart continue its slow path.
Williams looked down at the beautiful scenery before him and suddenly spoke: “The dusk here is truly beautiful.” His voice carried a soft feeling of awe, his gaze drifting toward the distant horizon.
Xiuyá, hearing this, gave a gentle smile and turned her head to look at him, her tone soft and restrained: “That is because your heart is beautiful; only then can you perceive these wonderful things.” Her eyes sparkled with a soft light, a faint smile on her face.
Upon hearing these words, Williams’ mouth curved slightly upward, a hint of gratitude in his eyes: “Thank you for such a compliment.” He turned slightly to the side, lightly nodded, and put his hands into his pockets, appearing somewhat shy.
Xiuyá paused for a moment, as if recalling something, and asked softly: “Tell me about your hometown and your family?” Her gaze was gentle, subtly curious, wanting to understand more about this young man from a foreign land.
Williams sighed lightly, closing his eyes slightly as if recalling his distant homeland: “I am from England, from a street in London. It is a damp, cold place, often shrouded in rain and fog.” He lightly brushed his beard, his tone tinged with nostalgia, “My father was a gentleman, descended from a declining noble family, but he placed great importance on etiquette and propriety. From the time I became aware, he required my sister and me, in both dress and manners, to maintain the dignity and bearing befitting our noble status.” He paused slightly, his gaze softening, “My mother, though born a commoner, had a father who traveled across the European continent when he was young, gaining wide experiences, speaking several languages, and possessing considerable knowledge and cultivation.” As he spoke, he unconsciously lifted his head slightly, his eyes seeming to traverse time, “After returning to England, he became a favored tutor for many noble families. My mother, Anne, under his guidance, became a kind-hearted, gentle, yet insightful woman.”
Xiuyá listened quietly, a hint of curiosity flickering in her eyes. Her hand lightly brushed over the shells on the sand as she softly asked: “How did your parents meet?”
Williams smiled faintly, warmth in his gaze: “My father was my maternal grandfather’s student. He often visited our home and knew my mother from an early age. In his youth, he actively courted my mother, Anne, appreciating her gentleness and intellect.” His tone was gentle, as if glimmering with memories, “After marriage, they lived harmoniously. In my memory, they never quarreled.”
Xiuyá could not help but let a slight envy flicker in her eyes, her mouth curving gently in a soft tone: “You had a warm family.” She lowered her head slightly, a touch of melancholy in her gaze.
Seeing this, Williams nodded lightly, recalling his own past with his family, and asked: “Xiuyá, you should also tell me about your family and relatives?” He turned slightly, his gaze filled with concern, seemingly wishing to understand her better.
Xiuyá was slightly taken aback, lightly touching a stone on the sand, and responded softly: “Uncle Matthews must have told you some things, right?” Her tone was subtle, with a hint of caution, but she then revealed a gentle smile.
Williams nodded, his tone warm and sincere: “Yes, the bishop did tell me some things.”
Xiuyá took a deep breath, her gaze softening as she looked toward the distant horizon, seemingly recalling past days: “I grew up in the church. Uncle taught me multiple languages and a great deal of knowledge.” Her tone was calm, revealing a quiet inner strength.
Williams looked at her, a flicker of surprise and admiration in his eyes, speaking softly: “No wonder your first impression reminded me somewhat of my mother.” His tone was gentle, full of respect and recognition for her.
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114
Ali carried the recently purchased boxes of Chinese herbal medicines and Western medicine bottles into the backyard. Warm sunlight shone across the yard, and the air was filled with the scent of the herbs. The wooden blue fence surrounding the yard faintly reflected several dragonflies circling in the sunlight. Ali crouched down to organize the medicines, his fingers lightly tracing the engravings on each bottle, then exhaled and looked toward the distant beach, his face displaying a thoughtful expression.
Ali said: “Just now, I saw Xiuyá on the beach near the dock.”
Kali, while organizing the medicines, casually asked: “Why would Xiuyá go to the beach for no reason?”
Ali sighed, looked up at the waves lightly lapping the beach in the distance, frowned slightly, and said: “I saw Xiuyá walking together with a handsome foreign young man.”
Kali gently placed the medicine he was holding on the shelf, a hint of doubt in his eyes, and turned to ask: “Xiuyá with a foreign young man?”
Ali nodded, concern in his tone: “Yes. They were talking and laughing; it looked like they were very close.”
Kali furrowed his brow, displeasure appearing on his face. He stood up, gripping a medicine bottle tightly, his voice heavy: “Xiuyá couldn’t possibly be starting a romantic relationship with a foreign young man, could she?”
At this moment, Lalu came out from the small gate of the backyard, holding a pot of freshly picked orchids. Hearing the conversation, she couldn’t help but smile, walking over to stand beside Kali: “Even if it’s a romance, you don’t need to make a big fuss, right? Xiuyá is not a little girl anymore, brother.”
Kali’s mouth twitched slightly. He took a deep breath, forcing down his inner unease: “I don’t actually oppose Xiuyá having a romance, but I don’t agree with her choosing a foreigner.”
Lalu lightly swayed the orchids in her hand, smiling gently: “You’re still too conservative, Kali.”
At this moment, Bosman walked in from one side of the yard, carrying a few pieces of timber on his shoulder. Hearing the conversation, the corners of his mouth slightly lifted. Teasingly, he said: “Kali, you have quite a prejudice against foreigners, huh? Don’t tell me I have to duel you again before you let go?”
Kali did not take Bosman’s teasing seriously; his gaze became even more determined, his tone indisputable: “That’s a completely different matter. I am Xiuyá’s godfather. Don’t interfere. I’ve made this decision. I’ll go discuss it with Shayun.”
Kali hurriedly walked into the clinic. Shayun was sitting at the table organizing prescriptions. The room was filled with the scent of herbs and disinfectant. The floor gleamed faintly as sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating the pen in Shayun’s hand.
Kali gently pushed open the door and entered, his low voice breaking the quiet atmosphere: “Shayun, Ali said he saw Xiuyá with a foreign young man.”
Shayun raised her head, her gaze gentle, a faint smile of indifference on her face: “Oh? They should just be friends, right?”
Kali frowned, his tone somewhat impatient: “This won’t do. I must intervene to prevent Xiuyá from being with a foreign young man.”
Shayun shook her head slightly, a trace of helplessness in her eyes: “Xiuyá is already grown; she has her own thoughts. How do you plan to stop her?”
Kali crossed his arms, his gaze resolute, his tone full of uncompromising determination: “I don’t want what happened with Junsheng to repeat with Xiuyá.”
Shayun was silent for a moment, gently putting down her pen, her gaze slightly turning toward the window: “I understand your intentions, but what if Xiuyá doesn’t listen to your advice?”
Kali lowered his head to ponder for a moment. Then a glimmer of strategy appeared in his eyes, his mouth curling slightly: “I plan to find an honest and reliable local man for Xiuyá, so she will never leave us in the future.”
At this moment, the sound of wheels came from outside. Dongle pushed open the clinic door, carrying a large box of Chinese herbs, his face full of a smile. Calmly, he placed the box on the floor, then turned to Shayun, speaking lightly: “Aunt Shayun, I’ve just received a batch of Chinese herbal medicines, good quality. I brought them here for you to choose first.”
Shayun looked up, smiled, and nodded gratefully: “Thank you, Dongle.”
Kali stood aside, observing Dongle, a subtle glint in his eyes. Inwardly, he thought: “This Dongle is honest in business. I’m looking for a partner for Xiuyá. He might be a good choice.”
He strode toward Dongle, his tone cheerful: “Dongle, have you met my goddaughter Xiuyá?”
Dongle looked slightly surprised, recalled for a moment, and replied: “Uncle Kali, you mean the girl with the golden hair?”
Kali nodded, his tone playful yet provocative: “Yes, I’m talking about her, Xiuyá.”
Dongle frowned slightly, thought for a moment, then smiled and responded: “I’ve seen her once, I remember her.”
Kali patted his shoulder, a mysterious glint in his eyes: “I’m introducing Xiuyá to you. You try dating her.”
Hearing this, Dongle’s expression instantly brightened. Surprised, he said: “Of course, your daughter Xiuyá is a great beauty.”
Kali laughed heartily, patting Dongle’s back, his tone full of satisfaction: “You’ve got a good eye, young man.”
Shayun hurried over, gently tugging Kali’s sleeve, a hint of concern in her eyes: “This isn’t right, is it? Xiuyá surely won’t like such a forced arrangement, though Dongle is indeed a good young man.”
Kali smiled confidently, his tone firm: “I will persuade Xiuyá. You don’t need to worry.”
Having said this, he turned toward Dongle, his face showing a satisfied smile: “Dongle, tomorrow morning, you bring the bullock cart and take Xiuyá on a trip to the nearby hills and rivers.”
Dongle’s face lit up with joy, as if receiving a great honor, and he agreed excitedly: “Okay, Uncle Kali.”
115
Kali stood outside Xiuyá’s room at Junsheng Clinic, gazing at the wooden door. The flowers and plants in the yard swayed with the gentle breeze, and occasionally a few birds flew over the treetops, seemingly bringing a trace of fresh air. Kali lightly knocked on the door, the sound crisp and clear, as if also knocking his slight anxiety into the room.
“Xiuyá, it’s your godfather.” Kali’s voice was somewhat steady, yet a subtle expectation flickered in his eyes.
From inside, Xiuyá responded, her tone tinged with a hint of surprise: “Godfather, please come in.”
Kali pushed open the door and entered the simple, bright room. Sunlight poured through the curtains, spilling softly onto the wooden floor. Xiuyá sat at the desk by the window, holding an open book in her hands, her brows slightly furrowed, seemingly immersed in thought over a passage.
“Godfather has something to tell you.” Kali approached her, his tone slightly heavy. Xiuyá looked up, revealing a faint smile.
“Please, go ahead, Godfather.” Xiuyá set the book down, turned around, and nodded toward Kali in acknowledgment.
Kali stood upright, a slight firmness in his tone: “I have arranged with Dongle. Tomorrow morning, he will bring the bullock cart over to take you on a trip to the nearby hills and rivers.”
Xiuyá frowned slightly, a hint of doubt flashing in her eyes: “Dongle?”
“The young man who recently often comes selling herbal medicines—the handsome youth from Madou Village.” Kali’s eyes flickered with a trace of confidence; this arrangement was, to him, perfectly natural.
Xiuyá’s brows furrowed even more, and she asked, slightly puzzled: “I remember him, but I’m not familiar with him. How did you arrange for him to come?”
Kali smiled faintly, his tone still steady but carrying a certain authority: “If you go on a few outings with him, you’ll become familiar with each other.”
Xiuyá clearly felt uneasy, her body leaning slightly back, hands lightly clasped on her lap, her tone tinged with apprehension: “Godfather, honestly, I don’t like such deliberate arrangements. If your intention is for me to date him, I don’t want that.”
Kali’s expression did not change; he maintained his calm firmness. He stepped closer, his tone gentler, yet with a hint of reassurance: “Xiuyá, Godfather will not harm you. Dongle is indeed a good young man. You can start as friends and see how things go. Matters of the heart take time; there’s no rush.”
Xiuyá looked at her godfather, feeling a bit helpless. Her eyes lowered slightly, her expression complex, but she finally spoke: “Alright! But don’t expect too much, because I’m not in a hurry to find a partner.” Her voice softened, as if a compromise for both herself and her godfather.
Kali patted her shoulder, his tone even gentler: “I know. You’ll be friends with him first, gradually get to know each other—that’s enough.”
Having said this, he turned to leave, yet silently made a resolve to himself. This was for Xiuyá’s future, and for the hope that she could live a better life.

Chapter 23: Kali Arranges for Xiuyá to Go on a Matchmaking Outing
116
Sunlight poured down through the clear sky, illuminating every corner of the main street. The surrounding trees swayed gently, and the breeze brushed past, bringing a hint of coolness. On the street, the occasional calls of vendors could be heard, pedestrians came and went, and the street seemed filled with the atmosphere of life. In front of Junsheng Clinic, a bullock cart slowly approached. Dongle sat atop the cart, holding the rope, a smile on his face. When he stopped the cart and jumped down, he patted the bull’s back, signaling it to stand steady.
Kali walked out from the clinic, and beside him, Xiuyá also walked slowly along. Sunlight gently fell on her face, outlining her gentle features. Xiuyá lifted her head slightly, looking at Dongle, a casual smile appearing on her face. Kali patted Dongle on the shoulder, his tone carrying a relaxed instruction: “Dongle, take Xiuyá around the main street and the hills and rivers nearby.”
Upon hearing this, Dongle’s smile deepened, his eyes glimmering with a hint of excitement: “Yes, Uncle Kali.” He turned to Xiuyá, his tone gentle and sincere: “Then let’s go and have a proper outing, Xiuyá.”
Dongle walked lightly to the bullock cart, extended his hand to support Xiuyá, signaling her to be careful while boarding. Xiuyá smiled slightly, feeling Dongle’s thoughtfulness. She gently held his hand and stepped steadily onto the cart. Dongle lightly pulled the rope, and the bullock cart emitted a slow creaking sound as it began moving forward.
The cart driver, Ade, was already prepared. He patted the saddle and, as the cart started moving, began guiding the bull forward. Dongle turned his head, giving Xiuyá a friendly smile, and asked: “Xiuyá, where would you like to stroll?”
Xiuyá thought for a moment, then smiled and replied: “Let’s go stroll around Prominza City; it’s lively there!”
Upon hearing this, a hint of agreement flashed in Dongle’s eyes. He then turned to Ade, quietly giving instructions: “Alright, let’s go into the city. Ade, head towards the city.”
Ade acknowledged the order with a “Yes!” and immediately cracked the whip. The bullock cart began to accelerate, slowly moving along the path toward the bustling city district. The sound of the wheels rolling and the bull’s footsteps interwove in the air. The breeze brushed past, carrying a faint scent of grass.
The atmosphere on the cart was relaxed and natural. Xiuyá turned her head to look out the window, taking in the increasingly busy scene on both sides of the street. Dongle occasionally glanced at her, quietly feeling a certain respect for her elegance and temperament. Their conversation was unhurried, containing both mutual understanding and natural ease.
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117
Sunlight shone upon the bustling streets of the city, streetsides crowded with vendors and pedestrians coming and going. The clamor and vitality filled every corner, traffic busy, and sounds mingling into a lively symphony. Dongle’s bullock cart slowly passed through this prosperous area. The wooden wheels of the cart emitted slight creaking sounds. Passersby beside the cart whispered to one another while glancing at this unusual pair.
Not far off, several locals and foreigners were discussing the blonde girl on the cart.
Local Man A paused and gazed at Xiuyá, unable to help but whisper: “That blonde girl on the bullock cart, so beautiful!”
Foreigner B turned to look at her, smiling in response: “Indeed, very beautiful. Such a beauty is rare; I wonder where she comes from?”
Foreigner C guessed: “She should be French or Dutch, right?”
Foreigner D thought for a moment and said: “Perhaps she is from our Germanic regions.”
Local Man A said confidently: “I don’t think so. She’s wearing local clothing.”
Dongle noticed the surrounding gazes and smiled faintly, understanding that such curious looks were unavoidable. When the bullock cart stopped, Dongle immediately walked to the cart, gently held Xiuyá’s hand, and helped her down. Xiuyá glanced around, hearing the conversation on the street, and frowned slightly, then was soothed by Dongle’s gentle gesture.
They walked together into a nearby teahouse. The wooden door of the teahouse creaked open. A fresh aroma of tea and melodious silk-and-bamboo music greeted them, creating a relaxing atmosphere. The patrons inside lifted their heads, casting curious glances at this uncommon pair. Dongle did not feel awkward at all. Instead, he smiled at Xiuyá: “The tea and snacks here are quite good; I came here once before.” He gently guided her inside and led her to a table by the window.
The waiter approached, smiling slightly: “May I ask what you two would like to order? We have barley tea, green tea, bitter tea, herbal tea, as well as foreign coffee and black tea, plus dozens of small pastries.”
Dongle responded without hesitation: “Give me a cup of coffee. Xiuyá, what would you like to drink?”
Xiuyá thought briefly, then softly said: “I’ll have barley tea.”
Dongle tapped the table, his tone generous: “One cup of coffee, one pot of barley tea, and bring all the small pastries as well—pick whatever you like.”
The waiter, a little surprised, still smiled and replied: “Very well, please wait a moment.”
Xiuyá slightly frowned, her tone carrying a hint of caution: “We won’t be able to eat that much. Don’t waste food.”
The waiter reassured her: “If you can’t finish it, you can take it home. All our pastries are guaranteed fresh.”
He turned and walked away. His busy footsteps sounded especially loud in the quiet teahouse.
Dongle then turned to Xiuyá, his tone carrying a hint of humor: “The pastries here are really good; a friend once brought me here.”
Xiuyá smiled lightly, looking at him: “You seem quite familiar with the city?”
Dongle smiled nonchalantly: “Business, you know. I come to the city every day, so naturally I’m familiar with it.”
At that moment, the waiter brought over a steaming pot of barley tea and a fragrant cup of coffee. Dongle lifted the coffee cup, inhaled deeply, and said with full delight: “The aroma is so strong; I love coffee like this the most.”
Xiuyá smiled slightly, holding the barley tea and taking a gentle sip, raising her brows: “I’ve tried this drink. Its bitterness is even stronger than bitter tea. I don’t want to suffer through it again.”
Dongle raised an eyebrow, replying lightly: “Add some sugar, and it won’t be so bitter.” He picked up the teapot, scooped two small spoonfuls of sugar into his coffee cup, and stirred gently.
Seeing Xiuyá smile, Dongle’s eyes reflected sincere admiration: “You smile so beautifully.”
Xiuyá smiled and shook her head gently: “Really? Inner beauty is more precious than appearance. Outward beauty is only fleeting.”
Dongle raised his coffee cup with a light laugh: “Of course inner beauty is important, but outward beauty always pleases the eye.”
Xiuyá smiled lightly: “Outer beauty is like a reflection in a mirror or a moon on water; it will inevitably change with time.”
Dongle slightly frowned, responding softly: “True! But compared to other girls, your beauty and depth of thought are indeed remarkable.”
At that moment, the teahouse staff began bringing plate after plate of delicate pastries, the table overflowing with a variety of treats, aromas wafting through the air.
Dongle looked at the table of snacks, satisfied: “Pick whatever you like. Money is external; earning it allows us and our families to live better.”
Xiuyá inwardly sneered, feeling some disdain for this pleasure-seeking businessman. She spoke calmly: “Besides earning money and enjoying food and drink, do you have no other life goals?”
Dongle smiled, unaware of her displeasure, answering casually: “Earning and enjoying life—that’s my whole life, isn’t it? In this world, what’s more important than these two things?”
Xiuyá’s expression slightly changed. She stood up gently, her tone cold: “Then you enjoy yourself. I don’t want to waste my time with you.”
She turned to leave, but Dongle suddenly grabbed her hand.
Dongle was stunned, asking in confusion: “Miss, why are you suddenly turning hostile?”
Xiuyá furrowed her brows, her eyes cold, and whispered angrily: “Let go of me!”
Dongle awkwardly released her hand, staring at her back, momentarily unsure what to say.
Xiuyá did not look back, leaving the teahouse decisively. The surrounding patrons began murmuring, their gazes moving back and forth between the two, and the atmosphere in the teahouse became subtly tense.
Chapter 118
Near noon, sunlight streamed through the windows into the Junsheng Medical Hall, filling the air with the mixed scent of herbs and disinfectant.
Xiuyah boarded a bullock cart and traveled along the busy streets of the city. The calls of merchants on both sides of the road rose and fell continuously, and pedestrians came and went, creating a lively scene. Xiuyah’s blonde hair glimmered softly in the sunlight, drawing the attention of many passersby. A trace of fatigue appeared on her face, and the fine sweat on her forehead glistened under the sun.
As the bullock cart passed by, several locals standing on the roadside whispered about her.
Local A: "The blonde girl on the bullock cart, she’s really too beautiful!"
Foreigner B: "Yes, truly a rare beauty. Where is she from?"
Foreigner C: "Maybe from France, or perhaps the Netherlands?"
Foreigner D: "No, perhaps from our Germanic people. Her clothes don’t seem entirely local in style."
Xiuyah heard these whispers, quietly brushed her hair, did not respond, and lowered her head, her gaze drifting into the distance.
When the bullock cart arrived at Junsheng Medical Hall, Xiuyah hurriedly jumped down, the sweat on her forehead replaced by the intensity of her emotions before she could wipe it off. Sha Yun happened to be tidying the instruments used earlier for treating patients, and seeing her rush in, could not help but frown.
Sha Yun smiled and asked, "Weren’t you out with Dongle? Why are you back alone?"
Xiuyah replied sharply, "Sena, don’t mention that businessman. His mind is full of money and business, and he carries the smell of copper on him."
Sha Yun raised her eyebrows in puzzlement and asked, "What? He didn’t come back with you?"
Xiuyah took off her outer garment and threw it heavily onto a chair, angrily saying, "I can’t stand that kind of person. He only talks about business and has no understanding of the true meaning of life. I left him at the teahouse and took a ride back on my own."
Ali, standing nearby, could not help but shake his head with a bitter smile, reaching out to pat Xiuyah’s shoulder and teasingly said, "This little girl has eaten explosives today; your temper is astonishing. Did Dongle offend you?"
Xiuyah’s anger had not subsided. She walked to the bathroom to wash away her fatigue, still showing traces of displeasure on her face.
Upon entering the backyard, Kalli noticed her expression was off and hurriedly asked, "Why are you back now? Where is Dongle?"
Xiuyah said coldly, "I returned him; I really can’t stand this kind of petty businessman."
Bossman raised his thumb at the side, jokingly saying, "Direct and decisive, this is more your style."
Kalli, somewhat concerned, asked, "Did you have a fight with Dongle?"
Xiuyah shook her head, her tone indifferent: "No, I didn’t even bother to argue with that kind of person, so I left on my own."
Lalu, overhearing this, could not help but interject: "Xiuyah, how exactly did Dongle make you angry?"
Xiuyah’s gaze gradually hardened, and she spoke slowly: "That person only knows how to make money. Once he earns, he indulges himself in food, drink, and pleasure. He has no understanding of life’s deeper meaning."
Kalli tried to ease the mood, his tone gentle: "Perhaps Dongle didn’t mean it that way; you might have misunderstood. Maybe he was only trying to show you that his way of life is different from yours."
Bossman responded coldly: "Who knows? After all, if you haven’t spent time with someone personally, it’s hard to judge anyone."
Lalu shot Bossman a glare, reminding him, "Don’t provoke a dispute; it will only get worse."
Bossman laughed loudly: "I’m not provoking; I’m just letting Kalli be clear—Xiuyah is the protagonist here."
Xiuyah, growing impatient, interrupted their conversation: "Enough, stop arguing. I’ve already decided. I will no longer accept such arrangements in the future; this is my request."
Kalli was slightly taken aback, a hint of disappointment in his eyes: "You refused Dongle. Does that mean you want to continue seeing that foreigner Williams?"
Xiuyah looked him straight in the eyes and answered without hesitation: "Yes. Although Williams is a businessman, he has a loving heart. He often donates rice and cloth to the church, helping children who have no one. Unlike Dongle, he doesn’t earn money merely for pleasure."
Kalli fell silent for a moment, his expression slightly complex: "Why are you so quick to draw conclusions? Everyone’s thoughts and behavior can change over time. My views on your father also underwent a major shift."
He paused for a while, his tone turning heavy: "I know your father’s heroic deeds in the past, how many people he saved. But for the past twenty years, he has ignored you and your mother, not even knowing life or death. Every day, Sena waits for him, holding onto that hope. Tell me, don’t you harbor any resentment in your heart?"
Xiuyah sighed softly, her tone still firm: "Godfather, I understand Sena’s predicament, but Williams is different from my father. He has love in his heart and a strong sense of responsibility for what he does."
Lalu interjected: "Alright, let’s stop. Your current argument is like two goats walking on a narrow bridge, neither willing to yield. Xiuyah, take Jiamei for a walk to relax, and let Godfather calm down."
Lalu then turned to Jiamei, speaking gently: "Jiamei, go wash your hands and face; Xiuyah is going to take you for a stroll."
Jiamei bounced happily and replied, "Okay, Sena!"
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Chapter 119
Xiuyah and Jiamei strolled along the stone-paved streets of Dayuan Harbor, the cool sea breeze brushing against their faces, and the salty smell of the sea filled the air. They passed through ancient arches, entered the church, and stepped on the worn wooden floor, producing crisp echoes. Sunlight streamed through the stained-glass windows, casting warm beams on the ground, colorful and vivid, as if nature itself witnessed their prayers. Rows of children’s clothes hung on the walls, slightly faded, but still exuded a sense of simple faith.
Xiuyah approached the cross, joined her hands, and bowed her head slightly. Her gaze met the image of Jesus, immersed in quiet prayer. Jiamei walked to the side, carefully examining the small clothes hanging on the wall, occasionally reaching out to touch them, her face showing a mixture of confusion and curiosity.
At that moment, the church doors gently opened, and Bishop Matthews stepped in, walking steadily, wearing a purple robe. His eyes were gentle, and his face bore a smile as warm as sunlight.
Bishop Matthews approached them, concern in his eyes: "Xiuyah, Jiamei, when did you arrive?"
Xiuyah lifted her head from prayer, showing some fatigue, and replied softly: "We’ve been here for a while."
The bishop noticed Xiuyah’s expression, seeming somewhat uneasy, and asked, "What’s the matter? I just saw you praying. Do you have something on your mind?"
Jiamei, standing aside with her hands in her skirt pockets, suddenly interjected: "Sister just had a quarrel with Uncle." Her tone was uneasy, clearly perplexed by the adults’ argument.
Bishop Matthews lowered his head, furrowing his brow gently, and asked: "What did you quarrel with Kalli about?"
Xiuyah looked somewhat depressed, lifted her eyes, scanning the bishop’s face, her tone tinged with dissatisfaction: "Godfather forbade me from seeing Williams and deliberately arranged for me to go out with a businessman who reeks of copper…"
Jiamei nodded beside her, evidently understanding her sister’s mood, adding: "Sister hates Dongle."
Bishop Matthews frowned slightly, lightly patting Xiuyah’s shoulder, saying: "Oh? If Kalli did that, it’s no wonder you’re upset. However, I can understand why he acted this way." His tone was sincere, as if trying to balance Kalli’s actions.
Xiuyah’s gaze softened slightly but remained puzzled: "Of course I know, he doesn’t forgive my biological father’s coldness, so he drags it onto Williams…"
Bishop Matthews nodded, seemingly helpless: "Relax. When there’s time, I will talk to Kalli." He turned to look out the window at the distant sparkling sea, then back: "Tomorrow morning, Williams will come to the church to help prepare the hall for Christmas. You should help too, and once finished, you two can go out to relax together."
A trace of gratitude appeared in Xiuyah’s eyes. She nodded lightly, her tone much more relaxed: "Alright!" There was a hint of expectation in her voice, as if the suggestion slightly lifted her mood.
Jiamei clapped her hands beside her and said with a smile: "Then let’s help out together tomorrow!"
Bishop Matthews smiled and nodded, gently walking to the altar to prepare for prayer. Xiuyah turned to look at Jiamei standing beside her, feeling somewhat relieved. She understood that although family disputes were unresolved, at least for now she could find a moment of comfort in this sacred space.
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Chapter 120
The afternoon sunlight poured over the streets, where people came and went, yet the atmosphere was unusually quiet. Dongle stood at the entrance of Junsheng Medical Hall, taking a deep breath, preparing to enter. The heels of his shoes lightly tapped the ground, his steps carrying a hint of hesitation. The medical hall doors opened gently, and the air carried a faint scent of herbs and disinfectant, providing a sense of calm.
He entered the reception room and saw Sha Yun and Kalli sitting on the sofa, talking. Sha Yun held a cup of hot tea, her brows slightly furrowed, seemingly still worried about what happened in the morning. Kalli leaned back in his rattan chair, his expression relaxed, appearing unconcerned.
Dongle walked over, slightly bowing to them, his face showing a mix of embarrassment and helplessness: "Uncle Kalli, Aunt Sha Yun, I’m sorry…"
Kalli looked up, surprise and curiosity flashing in his eyes, quickly turning into concern: "Dongle, you went out happily with Xiuyah this morning, so how did it end up like this? She came back alone." He said this while lightly tapping the armrest of the rattan chair, showing a hint of impatience.
Dongle scratched his head, looking innocent, hands open, tone showing some helplessness: "I don’t understand either. Xiuyah suddenly lost her temper, and didn’t even give me a chance to explain. That’s all that happened." He stood next to the rattan chair, slightly leaning forward, seemingly hoping for more understanding.
Sha Yun gently set down her tea cup, her gaze soft but worried: "Did you say something wrong? Did you make her angry?"
Dongle immediately shook his head, hands open, a bit anxious: "Not really? At the teahouse, Xiuyah asked me if, besides earning money and indulging in pleasure, I had any other goals. I honestly answered that these two are my life goals. Then she suddenly flew into a rage and walked away. That’s how it went." He sighed deeply, his face showing confusion and self-reproach.
Kalli shook his head, a faint helpless smile at the corner of his mouth: "Why are you so naive, Dongle? When dating a girl, you must read the mood, say what she likes to hear, even if it’s sweet talk." His tone was playful, but his eyes carried slight disappointment, seemingly helpless at Dongle’s reaction.
Sha Yun could not help but laugh, lightly patting Kalli’s shoulder, teasing: "Why do you talk like that, Kalli?" She shook her head, feeling some helplessness at Kalli’s frankness, but also faintly understanding.
Dongle looked puzzled, furrowing his brow, his eyes showing confusion: "But I don’t know Xiuyah’s temper, or what she likes to hear?" His confusion and sincerity were evident to both Sha Yun and Kalli.
Kalli shrugged, still wearing a helpless smile: "You! You silly goose. Do you know how Xiuyah described you after coming back?"
Dongle shook his head, his face full of doubt and unease: "She… how did she describe me?"
Kalli chuckled, a teasing tone: "She said you’re a businessman who reeks of copper! Meaning you’re unbearably vulgar." He lightly patted Dongle’s shoulder, his smile carrying a playful hint.
Dongle froze upon hearing this, showing surprise and helplessness, then slightly defensive: "I am a businessman! Doing business is about seeking profit; there’s nothing wrong with that, right?" He opened his hands slightly, helplessly defending his profession.
Kalli waved his hand, tone slightly helpless: "It’s useless reasoning with you. Here’s what we’ll do: go back and report to your parents, have them come tomorrow morning for the proposal. You understand what I mean?" His tone was decisive, seemingly having made up his mind.
Dongle raised his brows, hesitated slightly, but finally nodded: "Okay, I understand." He relaxed his tense shoulders, deciding to follow Kalli’s instructions.
Sha Yun’s expression showed a trace of worry, her brows slightly furrowed, setting down her tea cup gently, tone subdued: "This isn’t good, Kalli. Xiuyah will be very angry if she finds out." Her tone was full of concern, clearly reserved about this approach.
Kalli, hearing this, stood up, walked to the window, and looked at the blue sky outside, determination flashing in his eyes: "I can’t care about that anymore. To prevent Xiuyah from associating with that Williams, I must cut the knot decisively." His voice was low and firm, revealing an unchangeable resolution.

Chapter 24: The Conflict Between Kali and His Daughter Xiuya
121
The morning sunlight streamed through the windows into the living room, the interior quiet and warm. Xiuya stood at the entrance hall, holding her bag, preparing to go out. Her eyes were filled with urgency, as if she was somewhat impatient. However, just as she turned to open the door, a firm hand blocked her path.
Kali stood at the doorway, a trace of undeniable determination on his face, his gaze fixed tightly on her. The air inside the room instantly grew heavy; the warmth of the light seemed unable to diminish the tense atmosphere.
Kali’s voice was low and powerful: “Where are you going, Xiuya?”
Xiuya lifted her head, her face still carrying a hint of haste, her tone filled with impatience: “I’m going to the church, I have an appointment with Uncle Matthews.” A flicker of displeasure crossed her eyes, eager to get past this moment.
Kali raised an eyebrow, lightly clearing his throat, his tone carrying a clear command: “Go in the afternoon, okay? Dongle and his parents are coming later to propose.”
Xiuya’s heart jolted, her expression instantly darkened. She pushed the door open with force, lifted her chin, and looked Kali directly in the eye, her tone agitated: “Why didn’t I know about this? Godfather!”
Kali’s gaze became even firmer; his tone left no room for argument: “This is a decision I made on the spot; I don’t want to let it drag on.” He stood straight, his eyes as hard as steel, seemingly resolute.
Xiuya, furious, clenched her fists, her cheeks flushed like fire: “How can you do this without my consent?” Her voice gradually sharpened, filled with dissatisfaction and resistance.
Kali responded calmly, his tone even more resolute: “For your future happiness, I had no choice but to do this.” He stepped forward slightly, his posture subtly pressing against Xiuya, conveying an immovable determination.
As the dispute escalated, the atmosphere in the room grew even tenser. Shayan and Lalu, hearing the voices, exchanged a glance, and simultaneously walked toward the living room door.
Shayan tried to soothe Xiuya, walking over gently, her tone soft yet concerned: “Listen to Godfather, don’t throw a tantrum.” She lightly placed her hand on Xiuya’s shoulder, a note of comfort in her voice, hoping to ease the conflict.
Xiuya refused to yield, angrily brushing off Shayan’s hand, turning to her with an agitated tone: “Sena, this is my lifelong matter; why can decisions be made without asking me?” Her gaze was sharp, her tone full of indignation about her future choices.
Kali furrowed his brow, his tone carrying both helplessness and decisiveness: “I don’t want you to end up like your Sena in the future; Godfather has no choice but to resort to this last measure.” As he spoke, he slightly lowered his head, defending his decision.
Upon hearing this, Xiuya’s anger surged even higher; she clenched her hands, her voice sharp and resolute: “I will never accept such an arrangement!” Her body trembled uncontrollably, her emotions completely lost.
Kali’s eyes grew cold; he replied without hesitation: “Then I will have to confine you. From today onward, you will stay in the house and go nowhere.” His tone was firm and filled with threat.
Xiuya, furious, flung Kali’s arm aside, turning to dash out, burning with anger. However, Kali suddenly grabbed her arm and forcibly pulled her back. Xiuya struggled violently, her voice piercing the air, filled with panic and fury: “Let go of me!” She broke free from Kali’s grasp, violently pulling away from his restraint.
At this moment, Lalu and Bosman stepped forward, looking extremely anxious at the scene before them. Lalu frowned, her tone gentle yet firm: “Brother, this doesn’t look good.” She reached out toward Kali, her voice filled with helplessness and concern.
Bosman hurried over as well, lightly patting Kali on the shoulder, his tone calm but with a hint of warning: “Kali, don’t do this, you’ll scare the child.” His tone carried worry, clearly hoping the situation would not worsen.
Ali also approached, lightly holding Kali’s hand, his tone carrying a touch of persuasion: “Kali, speak calmly; a father and daughter are not enemies. Don’t let it come to this.” He lightly patted Kali on the shoulder, hoping to resolve the conflict.
Kali slightly loosened his grip; Xiuya suddenly flung off his arm, gasping for breath as she turned and nearly ran back to her room, slamming the door heavily behind her. Her silhouette disappeared behind the door, leaving the room seemingly filled only with the echo of the door.
Shayan stood there, looking at Xiuya’s retreating figure with a heart full of pain, her face written with helplessness and sorrow. Her brows slightly furrowed, her mind filled with uncertainty over Kali’s decision. Jiamei shrank in her mother’s arms, her eyes full of fear and confusion, clearly terrified by the scene before her.
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Dongle led his parents to Junsheng’s medical hall. The weather was just right, sunlight streaming through the skylights onto the white walls of the hall, where several blue seascape paintings hung. The indoor air was fresh, faintly scented with herbal aromas drifting everywhere. The coachman busied himself unloading the betrothal gifts from the ox cart; the burlap-wrapped boxes creaked, and the entire courtyard was filled with a bustling atmosphere.
Dongle spoke in a calm tone: “Uncle Kali, I have brought my Sena and Sama to formally propose.” His eyes swept over, seeing Kali standing at the entrance of the medical hall, his expression serious.
Kali slightly nodded, signaling them to come in: “Please enter, we will serve tea.”
The three entered the reception room. The room’s furnishings were exquisite and elegant, the lighting soft. The classical furniture and delicate porcelain made the entire space seem imbued with a sense of timelessness. Laiwang smiled as he approached, extending both hands, warmly embracing Kali: “A pleasure to meet you, Brother Kali.”
Kali returned the firm embrace, a faint smile appearing on his face: “Please, have a seat.”
“You flatter us, the medical hall lives up to its reputation.” Laiwang looked around, praising: “Earlier, my wife and I noticed the interior of this hall; it combines grandeur with noble elegance. Truly the finest in Dayuan Port.”
Kali smiled faintly, responding: “You overpraise us.” His tone carried slight humility, yet his eyes revealed a subtle pride.
Lalu then gestured for Jiamei to carry the tea tray in, gently placing it on the table, attracting everyone’s attention present. Rina laughed: “What a cute little blonde girl.”
Kali smiled, explaining: “This is my sister’s daughter. Her husband is from the Netherlands; they moved here many years ago.”
“That explains it.” Laiwang raised his brow, “This girl, when grown, will surely be a striking beauty, just like Xiuya.”
Rina also smiled and nodded, turning to Kali, her tone slightly shy: “I hope you won’t laugh, but ever since my son Dongle went out with your daughter Xiuya, he has been restless at home. It is truly an honor to have the opportunity to become in-laws. Today, my husband and I specially prepared the betrothal gifts to come and propose.”
Hearing this, a flicker of surprise passed through Kali’s eyes, but he quickly composed himself: “Brother Laiwang, Sister Rina, we appreciate your kindness.” He paused slightly, his expression becoming more serious, “Dongle is a decent and proper man; there is no need to doubt that.”
Just as the atmosphere gradually became harmonious, Shayan walked over and gently knocked on Xiuya’s room door. Silence responded from within. She pushed open the door, only to find Xiuya was no longer inside. The window was slightly open, the breeze gently flowing in, curtains fluttering with the wind.
Shayan muttered softly to herself, her tone filled with helplessness: “This child deliberately wants to spite her Godfather; now this is awkward.”
She turned to Lalu, frowning: “Xiuya has jumped out the window; what should we do now?”
Lalu, upon hearing this, gently shook her head, a trace of displeasure on her face: “My brother pressured her so much; if it were me, at this moment, I would leave too. We should just tell him clearly; he forced this situation.”
Shayan let out a deep sigh, her gaze somewhat lost: “For now, this is all we can do…”
The two walked back to the reception room together. Kali was conversing with Laiwang and Rina. Seeing Shayan and Lalu enter, his expression shifted slightly.
“This is Xiuya’s Sama, the leader of Chikan Society,” Kali introduced while pointing to Shayan.
Laiwang’s eyes flashed with respect: “Leader Shayan heals and helps people, her reputation is widespread. My wife and I are fortunate to become in-laws with the leader.”
Shayan smiled faintly, nodding in response: “If I’ve been negligent in any way, I apologize.”
Suddenly, Lalu whispered a few words into Kali’s ear. Upon hearing them, Kali’s face changed abruptly, his body slightly stiffening. Laiwang noticed this, a hint of puzzlement in his eyes, asking: “What happened, Brother Kali?”
Kali forced down his unease, his smile somewhat strained: “Sorry, Xiuya is suddenly unwell and cannot come out to meet you.”
Laiwang and Rina exchanged a glance, silently communicating with each other, knowing things were not so simple. However, to maintain courtesy, they said nothing, merely nodding and keeping the atmosphere polite.
Rina smiled gently: “It’s alright, there will be another day; we will meet again.”
Kali nodded, a trace of fatigue passing through his eyes: “Is that okay? Another day, Shayan and I will personally bring Xiuya to your residence, and our two families can then arrange an auspicious date.”
Laiwang smiled, his tone humble: “With Brother Kali’s promise, my wife and I will naturally cooperate.”
Dongle, listening nearby, his expression slightly darkened, displeased: “But you haven’t even seen Xiuya yet.”
Rina quickly gave Dongle a look, signaling him to be understanding. Though reluctant, Dongle forced a smile, showing a trace of dissatisfaction on his face.
Laiwang laughed to ease the situation: “My son is not well-mannered, please forgive him, in-laws.”
Kali patted Dongle on the shoulder, his tone calm but slightly heavy: “No, my youngest daughter is slightly unwell. She will not be able to meet for a while. Please understand.”
Finally, Laiwang’s family decided to take their leave. Kali, Shayan, and Lalu escorted them to the door. When the three boarded the ox cart, Kali took a deep breath and said: “I will go to the church and bring Xiuya back.”
Lalu whispered beside him: “Brother, after seeing Xiuya, don’t get angry again.”
Kali remained silent, his anger nearly bursting, and without looking back, he walked toward the church, his figure heavy with burden.

Chapter Twenty-Five: Shayun Supports Her Daughter in Pursuing Happiness
126
In the living room of the residence of Shayun, the head of the Chikan community, the air was filled with a faint herbal fragrance. On the wall hung an ancient landscape painting, in which drifting clouds intertwined with mountain ridges, and one could almost hear the whisper of the wind. The windows of the living room were wide open, and outside lay a verdant courtyard, with shadows of trees swaying as a gentle breeze blew in through the window, carrying the warmth of summer. Darlai was concentrating on weaving a bamboo shrimp trap, the bamboo strips moving deftly between his fingers, producing a faint rustling sound.
Xiuyah sat by the tea table, her fingers absentmindedly stroking the surface, her face displaying a complex array of emotions, her gaze occasionally drifting toward the window. She spoke softly, her tone tinged with a hint of helplessness: "This is how things happened, Uncle."
Darlai raised his head, a trace of worry appearing in his eyes. He put down the bamboo strips, clasped his hands together over his knees, and spoke in a calm tone: "I can understand why Kahl would treat you this way. On one hand, he does not want you to leave your hometown; on the other hand, he does not wish to see you follow in Sena's footsteps."
Xiuyah clenched her hands into fists, her brows slightly furrowed, her voice slightly hurried but still resolute: "But Williams and I truly love each other."
Darlai’s gaze softened, recalling the past, his tone carrying a trace of regret: "Back then, when your Sena liked Doctor Junsheng, at first the elders also opposed it. But Sena, in order to be with Junsheng, was willing to give up inheriting the headship. At that time, I sympathized with Sena and secretly helped her deliver letters. At this moment, it seems I see in you a reflection of your Sena from back then." He paused, lowering his head, his tone growing heavier: "One can only say that fate plays tricks; all of this is destined in the grand design."
Xiuyah’s gaze fell on Darlai’s face; she nodded slightly, her eyes full of gratitude, and the corner of her mouth involuntarily lifted into a faint smile: "Uncle, I sincerely thank you."
Darlai raised his head and looked straight into Xiuyah’s eyes, his voice low and warm, conveying a deep expectation: "Uncle respects your choice, and hopes you will be happy and fulfilled in the future." His tone carried a sense of responsibility, and faintly revealed an unspoken sorrow.
A subtle emotion flickered across Xiuyah’s eyes. She lowered her head, letting out a gentle sigh, appearing hesitant for a moment, but in the end, she lifted her head firmly and responded: "I will, Uncle. I will definitely find my own happiness."
Darlai looked at the bamboo trap once more, then slowly stood up, walked toward the window, and gazed at the lush greenery outside, seemingly lost in thought. The atmosphere in the air became somewhat serene, with only the distant sound of birds and the gentle rustling of leaves by the wind. Xiuyah also sat quietly, her heart still stirring, yet she could feel a moment of calm.
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127
Shayun stood by the dock, the breeze lightly brushing her hair, the waves lapping against the shore in a rhythmic sound. In the distance, ships gradually approached the harbor, with crew and merchants waving from the decks. Sunlight filtered through the clouds, casting light upon her, highlighting the resolute lines of her face. Shayun’s eyes fixed on the horizon, as if searching for something lost, or perhaps contemplating the path ahead.
Darlai walked to her side, his steps steady, his figure tall. He turned his head slightly to glance at Shayun, remained silent for a moment, and finally spoke: "Sister, Xiuyah came to see me."
Hearing this, Shayun slightly turned her head, her gaze inadvertently falling on Darlai, her brows lightly furrowed: "What did Xiuyah tell you?"
Darlai stopped walking, his hands in his trouser pockets, his low voice carrying over: "What Xiuyah told me is not the point. The point is whether you are willing to listen to me."
Shayun’s lips curled faintly, yet her expression remained calm. She nodded gently, her gaze resolute: "Go ahead…"
Darlai no longer looked directly at Shayun, but toward the distant ships. His tone grew more serious: "You have always believed in Junsheng’s promises, which is why you are still living in expectation now."
Shayun’s eyes flickered slightly, but her tone remained calm: "You didn’t come to talk to me about Junsheng, did you?"
Darlai turned his head slightly, looking deeply at her, his tone gentle but tinged with helplessness: "Back then, you chose Junsheng without hesitation, just as Xiuyah chose Williams. The feelings of you and Xiuyah are actually the same."
Shayun fell silent for a moment, gently pressing her lips together, then slowly spoke: "Brother, I understand your meaning."
Darlai let out a soft sigh, his face filled with concern and helplessness. He reached out and lightly patted Shayun’s shoulder, his tone sincere: "Since your feelings are the same, put yourself in her place. You should respect Xiuyah’s choice. Even if you think she might follow in your footsteps, I believe, like you, she will not regret her own decision. Moreover, the worries you have may not necessarily happen to Xiuyah."
Shayun lowered her head, her fingertips gently brushing the wooden railing beside her. Her eyes squinted slightly in the sunlight, as if contemplating Darlai’s words. The wind blew again, carrying a hint of salty seawater. Shayun’s voice was low and firm: "Xiuyah is like I was back then, but my thoughts are actually different from Kahl’s."
Darlai’s expression grew more serious. He turned toward her, his tone becoming resolute: "That is why I came to talk to you. I do not agree with Kahl’s idea. Although his intentions are well-meaning, Xiuyah’s future path should not be determined solely by him."
Shayun’s eyes fixed on Darlai, her brows slightly furrowed, seemingly wrestling with something. Finally, she slowly spoke: "What do you want me to do?"
Darlai placed his hand gently on her shoulder, his tone calm and firm: "Respect Xiuyah’s decision, give Xiuyah to Williams, and then bless them."
Shayun was silent for a moment, her gaze falling on a ship slowly entering the harbor in the distance. Her eyes were deep, as if making an important decision. She nodded slightly, her tone tinged with thoughtfulness: "Shall I wait until I meet with Williams and talk it over, then make the decision?"
Darlai smiled lightly, his tone gentle: "Alright, sister. I believe you will make the best choice."
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128
In the reception room of the Dayuan Harbor Church, the air was filled with a quiet atmosphere. Sunlight streamed through the stained-glass windows, casting a multicolored patchwork of light onto the floor. The interior of the church was serene and solemn, occasionally echoing with the toll of a bell, carrying a hint of sacredness. On the walls of the reception room hung several ancient paintings, in which the saints seemed to whisper, while in the corners stood several vibrant green plants, bringing life to the entire space.
Shayun sat at one end of the long table, her expression calm, her hands folded in her lap, staring at Father Matthews across from her. Her gaze was deep, as if contemplating something. Matthews sat upright, a trace of worry on his face, yet his tone remained gentle. He adjusted his glasses slightly and asked: "Shayun, coming to the church today, I suppose there is something you wish to discuss with me?"
Shayun lifted her eyes, looking directly at Matthews, her tone carrying a trace of steady questioning: "Father, you are familiar with Williams, aren’t you?"
Matthews nodded slightly, smiling, his tone tinged with reminiscence: "Yes! That child, Williams, is very compassionate. He often donates rice and cloth to the church to help those lonely children. He has great zeal for society and participates personally in many church affairs."
Hearing this, a hint of thoughtfulness flickered in Shayun’s eyes. Her fingertips lightly tapped on the table, revealing her contemplative state: "Has Xiuyah been spending much time with Williams recently?"
Matthews smiled gently, his eyes full of love: "Yes! They have gone on a few dates. Xiuyah is a very kind child, and Williams often takes care of her. They get along very harmoniously."
Shayun nodded slightly, speaking softly as if to herself: "Xiuyah complained to her uncle, saying she and Williams truly love each other, and hopes I can grant them my approval." She lifted her head, looking directly at Matthews, her tone gaining determination: "What do you think?"
Matthews looked at Shayun with gentle eyes, his tone sincere: “You should let them be together. Williams is a very good young man, and he will cherish Xiuyah. His character is gentle, he is patient with people, and I believe he can bring happiness to Xiuyah.”
After hearing this, Shayun’s eyes flickered with a trace of hesitation, but soon her face regained its composure, her tone calm but somewhat heavy: “I trust what the priest says, but I want to speak with Williams in person.”
Upon hearing her words, Matthews slightly nodded, a faint smile appearing on his face: “Williams will come over soon. I will have him come to the parlor to see you.” He gently moved a book on the table, as if to adjust the tone of his speech, his tone soft: “Williams should be very pleased to see you.”
Shayun stood up, slightly lowering her head, a look of gratitude appearing on her face: “Thank you, Father.”
Matthews waved his hand lightly, a faint wry smile on his face, his tone carrying a trace of helplessness: “The last time Carly came here looking for Xiuyah, I tried to advise him, but Carly didn’t seem to listen. You know what Carly is thinking, right?”
After hearing this, Shayun slightly furrowed her brows, a hint of weariness in her eyes: “I know. He wants to keep Xiuyah here.”
Matthews shook his head, his tone revealing a trace of concern: “Xiuyah is a child with her own will. She does not want to accept the arrangement made by Carly.”
Shayun’s lips curved slightly upward, her gaze determined but carrying a trace of helplessness: “This is also the main reason I came to the church specifically, to see Williams.” Her tone carried a hidden resolve; she had already made a certain choice. Though it was not yet fully certain, she knew her heart had already begun to lean toward one side.
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In the parlor, the air was filled with the scent of books and old wood. On the surrounding walls hung several paintings depicting Bible stories. Light streamed through the high windows, illuminating every corner of the room. A vase of fresh flowers on the table appeared especially vivid in the soft sunlight, while the distant tolling of a bell outside seemed to narrate the passage of time in this quiet space. Shayun and Williams sat on opposite sides of the long table. Matthews stood by the door, leaving the two alone, gently closing the door, and silently departing.
Shayun rose slightly, bowed to Matthews, her tone carrying a hint of gratitude: “Father, thank you.”
Matthews smiled faintly, lightly nodded, then turned and left. The moment the door gently closed, Shayun’s gaze involuntarily fell upon Williams. She slightly furrowed her brows, as if pondering something. Williams looked at Shayun, a flicker of expectation and nervousness in his eyes. He stood in place, slightly lowering his head, his hands lightly clasped on his lap, ready to listen to her words.
Shayun gestured for him to sit and softly said: “Williams, sit down.” Her tone was gentle, but her eyes carried a trace of caution.
Williams smiled respectfully, slowly sitting down, his tone still tinged with humility and politeness: “Yes, my esteemed lady.”
Shayun looked at Williams, a gentle smile appearing on her face, yet her gaze was deep and scrutinizing. Her hand moved lightly, her fingertips brushing across the table as she organized her thoughts. She slowly spoke, her tone carrying a soft contemplation: “Xiuyah is my only daughter.” She sighed lightly, her eyes filled with the deep affection of a mother for her daughter, “She is my only family.”
Williams lowered his head, responding softly: “Lady, I understand.” He leaned slightly forward, his tone full of sincerity and respect.
Shayun looked at him intently, her brows slightly furrowed, as if weighing the significance of every word: “Although the priest has great confidence in you, I do not actually know you.” Her gaze bore no hostility; it was purely a mother’s vigilance and doubt.
Williams paused briefly, seeming somewhat nervous, wanting to speak but unsure how to express himself, and finally said softly: “Lady…”
Shayun waved her hand, gently interrupting him, her tone carrying a trace of helplessness and worry: “Xiuyah has never traveled far. Your presence makes me and Xiuyah face a possible separation.” Her gaze grew even deeper, able to see through Williams to the hidden fear and reluctance in her heart.
Williams drew a deep breath, his tone warm with understanding: “Lady, I can understand your feelings.” He slightly lowered his head, his eyes full of sympathy and entreaty, hoping to alleviate her concerns.
Shayun nodded lightly, her tone gradually becoming firm and filled with maternal love: “If you can truly understand my feelings as a mother, I ask you to treat Xiuyah well, never abandoning her, no matter what difficulties you may encounter in the future.” Her tone carried a slight urgency, as if entrusting an important mission, “She is my everything; please cherish her.”
Upon hearing this, Williams immediately straightened, his gaze full of sincerity and determination. He extended his hand, placing it gently on the table, his tone firm: “I will, lady.” He looked at Shayun, without a hint of hesitation in his eyes, as if this were an irrevocable promise.
Shayun nodded lightly, a gentle smile on her face, yet countless expectations and hopes hidden in her eyes: “When you are ready, I will bring Xiuyah here and hand her to you myself, letting the priest officiate your marriage.” Her tone was gentle and sincere, as if she had already accepted this possible future and hoped it would be fulfilled.
Williams bowed his head gratefully, his hands folded on his lap, his tone full of gratitude and commitment: “Thank you, lady. After marriage, I will first take Xiuyah to England to see my parents, then bring her back here to settle.” He raised his head, his gaze firm and full of hope.
Shayun nodded lightly, a slight upward curve at the corners of her mouth, her tone carrying a hint of encouragement and blessing: “Thank you for your understanding, Williams. After marriage, take Xiuyah back. I do not want her godfather to intervene.” Her eyes revealed a trace of helplessness, but also an expectation for the future. This was a difficult path, but one that must be walked.
Williams slightly nodded, a gleam of gratitude in his eyes: “Yes, lady.” He took a deep breath, seemingly making a vow for the future in his heart, full of determination and resolve.
At this moment, an unspoken understanding and tacit agreement formed between them, as if the road ahead had already unfolded before their eyes, waiting for them to walk it together.
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In Xiuyah’s room, the air was filled with the scent of leather and thread. The surrounding walls were adorned with several landscape paintings. Sunlight streamed through the heavy curtains, casting dappled light on the wooden floor. Tools were scattered on the table, leather pieces piled casually nearby, giving the room a somewhat messy appearance. Xiuyah sat at a chair with complete focus, holding a sharp needle, sewing a leather jacket. Her eyes were slightly narrowed, her attention entirely fixed on the work in her hands, completely unaware of Shayun’s entrance.
Shayun gently pushed open the door, seeing her daughter still absorbed in her task, and stepped in lightly. Her voice was soft but carried a trace of warmth: “I went to the church to see Williams, Xiuyah.”
Xiuyah raised her head, her brows slightly lifted, a flicker of surprise in her eyes. The needle in her hand nearly fell; she quickly steadied it, her voice slightly trembling: “Sena, you…” A trace of unease and expectation appeared in her gaze; she clearly did not expect her mother to meet Williams.
Shayun walked gently to the table, glancing at the leather jacket her daughter was sewing, her eyes carrying a soft smile, her tone also softened: “Your uncle came to see me, asking me to respect your choice.”
Upon hearing this, Xiuyah’s brows slightly relaxed, as if she understood, replying softly: “Oh…” Her tone carried a hint of relief and faint helplessness, as if she had mentally prepared herself for this matter.
Shayun nodded slightly, walked to the window, gazed at the scenery outside, then turned to Xiuyah: “So I went to see Williams. I wanted to know the attitude and thoughts of the boy my daughter favors.” Her gaze softened, yet carried a trace of firmness, as if conveying trust and understanding.
Xiuyah’s eyes flickered, seeming slightly nervous. Her needle paused, she gently bit her lip, words caught in her throat: “Sena…” Her voice held emotions she could not conceal, words she could not speak.
Shayun looked at her, a motherly smile on her face, walked closer, gently stroked her hair, her tone firm yet soft: “Now, I can safely entrust you to Williams.” Her words were full of love and understanding, as if telling her that this is the path she has chosen, and no matter what, her mother will support her.
Tears suddenly welled up in Xiuyah’s eyes. She lowered her head, pressed her lips together, her tone filled with gratitude: “Thank you, Sena.” Her hands trembled slightly, yet she persisted in threading the needle through the leather, as if sewing the hope for the future into this relationship.
Shayun smiled faintly, walked to her side, softly said: “When Williams is ready, you will be married in the church. But until then, do not alert Carly. I do not want him to cause trouble.” Her tone carried a subtle worry, revealing her lingering distrust and concern regarding Carly.
Xiuyah nodded, a glint of determination in her eyes: “Yes, Sena.” Her voice no longer trembled, sounding firmer.
Shayun looked at her daughter’s focused gaze, smiled slightly, turned to the other side of the room, and casually asked: “Are you sewing clothes for Williams?”
Xiuyah raised her head, a hint of shy light in her eyes, lightly nodded: “Yes, Sena.” Her tone carried sweetness and softness, as if offering this handmade gift as a special gesture for Williams.
Shayun looked at her, smiling softly: “A daughter grows up; sooner or later, she will have a home.” Her tone was full of maternal love, her eyes gentle, as if witnessing Xiuyah’s growth and transformation, also affirming to herself that this moment would inevitably arrive, whether she was ready or not.
Xiuyah lowered her head, a faint smile appearing on her face, her heart seeming to gain stronger resolve. Her needle continued to pass through the leather, sewing her hopes and dreams for the future.

Chapter 26: Xiuya Leaves Dayuan Port with Williams
131
Inside the chapel of Dayuan Port Church, the air was filled with the fresh scent of pine, and sunlight streamed through the stained-glass windows, falling upon the exquisite wooden floor, casting mottled patterns of light and shadow. Golden candelabras hung from the towering dome arches, their points of light flickering in the air, adding a sense of mystery and solemnity to this sacred occasion. Within the chapel, Williams and Xiuya stood before the altar, surrounded by silent church members, only the nuns’ voices resonating through the air, echoing blessings of sanctity.
Xiuya wore a white Western-style wedding gown; the skirt swayed gently with her steps, gleaming with a warm luster. Her eyes were filled with both longing and anxiety for the future. Matthews, on the other hand, was dressed in an elegant tailcoat, standing at the altar, his gaze softly fixed upon the bride and groom. Shayan was clad in traditional Siraya chieftain attire, walking steadily and gracefully, holding Xiuya’s arm as they approached the altar. A motherly smile graced her face, her eyes conveying unspoken emotion and blessing.
Matthews raised both hands, speaking in a low, solemn tone: “O God, we thank You for this joyful wedding; we thank You for this wedding day of significant importance; we thank You for this important moment; we thank You for Your constant presence with us; in the name of Christ and the Holy Spirit. Amen.” The nuns beside him joined in singing hymns in unison, their voices echoing through the air, as if sending all blessings and love to the heavens.
Matthews continued reading: “Love is patient and kind; love does not envy. Love does not boast, is not arrogant, does not act unbecomingly; it does not seek its own interest, is not easily angered, keeps no record of wrongs; it does not delight in injustice but rejoices with the truth…” His voice was full of power, reverberating throughout the altar.
At this moment, Williams slightly turned toward Xiuya, his eyes full of deep affection and promise, while Xiuya gently clasped his hand, her palm slightly warming, her heartbeat quickening.
Matthews spoke again, his tone even firmer: “Standing before God, I urge you both to remember that love and fidelity are the foundation upon which joyful and eternal homes are built. If you always uphold your solemn vows; if you steadfastly seek and follow the will of your Holy Father; your life shall forever be harmonious and happy; the family you establish shall withstand any change.” He paused briefly, his gaze sweeping across the bride and groom, then scanning the guests, “Of course, you must also remember that you do not walk life’s journey alone. When you face difficulties, do not hesitate to seek help from others. Helping hands come from friends, family, and the Church. Accepting others’ assistance is not shameful, but an act of sincerity. Around us, the Lord extends His helping hand. The hand of Jesus Christ is everywhere. Most importantly: we witness the union of this couple. Amen.”
Matthews bowed his head, placing both hands upon the Bible, speaking softly: “Please place your hands upon the Bible.”
Xiuya and Williams exchanged a glance, their eyes filled with trust and love, then each extended a hand, gently placing it upon the Bible. Their fingers intertwined lightly, appearing so harmonious and resolute.
Matthews turned toward Williams, his eyes shining with gentle light: “Williams, do you take Xiuya to be your wife, to live with her as a friend and companion? Do you love and respect her? Will you share with her equally in joy, in sorrow, in triumph, and in confusion?”
Williams slightly bowed his head, gazing tenderly at Xiuya standing beside him, his voice firm and affectionate: “Yes, I do!” His words were clear and strong, engraving every vow into his heart.
Upon hearing this, Xiuya’s eyes moistened slightly, and she softly replied, “I do!” Her voice was gentle yet resolute, as if in this moment her heart completely merged with Williams’ heart.
Matthews looked at them, a satisfied smile appearing on his face: “Before God and the guests, the couple pledges to be united in marriage, in sickness and in poverty, forever of one mind.” He paused for a moment, his gaze turning tenderly to the bride and groom, “The bride and groom exchange rings.”
Williams and Xiuya smiled at each other, then each reached for the other’s hand, gently exchanging rings. In this moment, the love and commitment in their hearts were symbolized by these rings.
Matthews then spoke: “The wedding ring symbolizes eternity; it signifies the eternal union of two hearts and souls filled with boundless love. Now, offer your love and your earnest desire to unite your hearts and souls forever as a gift to her. You may place this wedding ring on your bride’s finger.”
Williams took a deep breath, gently lifting Xiuya’s hand with both of his, carefully placing the ring on her ring finger. His gaze was focused and tender, as if time had stopped for them in that instant.
Matthews smiled faintly, his tone gentle and full of blessing: “Williams, you may kiss the bride.”
At this moment, Williams’ heart raced; he gently lifted Xiuya’s veil, his gaze tenderly locked onto her eyes, then leaned down to kiss her lips. In that instant, the world existed only for them, all light and blessings converging in this fleeting kiss. Shayan stood beside them, her smiling face glistening with tears. Her eyes were filled with maternal love and satisfaction, watching her daughter and her future, silently offering her blessings and fulfillment.
132
The sea breeze at the dock brushed gently, carrying a salty scent and a slight chill. The distant sky was shifting, the golden sunlight of the setting sun casting a ribbon of gold across the sea, illuminating the entire surface with brilliance. Along the dock, a few fishing boats swayed gently in the waves, while a sailboat prepared to depart. Its white canvas billowed lightly in the wind, and warm lights glowed on board, as if greeting the newlyweds, Williams and Xiuya. Shayan and Father Matthews stood on the dock, their faces carrying reluctant smiles, watching the couple set off.
Xiuya stood in front of Shayan, reluctant to part, gently holding her mother’s hand, speaking softly but with a trace of sorrow: “Sena, take care of yourself. We’ll be back soon.” Her voice trembled slightly, yet she forced a faint smile.
Upon hearing this, Shayan’s eyes displayed a trace of gentle sorrow. She lightly touched Xiuya’s hair, her voice steady but filled with deep affection: “Take this necklace and gold ring with you; they will bring you good fortune, Xiuya.” She bent down to remove the heart-shaped necklace from her neck, then gently took off the gold ring from her finger. In that moment, it seemed as if time slowed. Carefully, she placed the ring on Xiuya’s ring finger and hung the necklace around her neck. The golden necklace and ring were like two blessings, carrying endless maternal love.
Xiuya lightly touched the ring, tears welling in her eyes. She raised her head to look at her mother, her lips trembling, almost unable to speak. She reached out, hugging Shayan tightly, her voice weak but resolute: “Mother, I will carry your blessing with me.”
Shayan’s hand gently patted Xiuya’s back, as if wishing to convey all her strength and love to her. She smiled, though a faint tear shimmered in her eyes: “My child, go, I bless you.” Her voice was filled with boundless attachment and blessing.
Father Matthews lightly patted Williams on the shoulder, his gaze sincere and solemn: “Williams, take good care of your wife.” His tone carried a fatherly sense of responsibility.
Williams stood upright, his gaze firm, replying: “I will, Father.” He reached out, lightly patting Matthews’ hand, as if making a promise and taking responsibility. In his eyes, there was only love for Xiuya and infinite anticipation for the future.
Shayan turned to look at the ship about to set sail, her breath slightly quickened, her tone firm: “The ship is about to leave! Xiuya, board the ship.” Her voice carried a forced strength, attempting to appear calm, yet the deep affection and reluctance in her eyes made her voice tremble slightly.
Xiuya took a deep breath, looking back at her mother, her heart filled with indescribable emotion. She walked toward Williams, gently holding his arm, and together they walked toward the gangway. Each of Xiuya’s steps seemed to carry infinite memories and feelings, while Williams held her hand, walking steadily, sensing every unease and emotion of hers, silently vowing to protect her for life.
Father Matthews gently supported Shayan, and together they stood at the shore, watching the couple approach the ship. Shayan waved lightly, her eyes glistening with tears, yet her face still bore a smile, sending her daughter off with a final blessing. Matthews also waved, his face carrying a gentle smile, his eyes filled with calm and blessing.
The sailboat slowly departed from the dock, the canvas whistling in the wind, the vessel sailing steadily as if carrying all the blessings and hopes, gradually leaving this shore bit by bit. Shayan and Matthews stood at the edge, watching the ship disappear into the distance until it was completely out of sight. The sea breeze brushed their faces again, bringing a cool sensation, as if it were a blessing from the future.
133
When Shayan pushed open the wooden door of Junsheng Clinic, she was greeted by the familiar scent of herbs, accompanied by a warm glow. She carried a simple cloth bag on her shoulder, which made slight noises, as if containing the emotional burdens of her entire day. After the wooden door closed gently, the atmosphere in the room quieted. Kali and Bossman were sitting around the dining table, which was laden with steaming dishes, the steam appearing in the light as a thin mist, rendering the dinner atmosphere warm and intimate.
Kali put down his bowl, staring directly at Shayan, furrowing his brows, his tone filled with obvious displeasure: “Shayan, where have you been? We haven’t seen you all day.” His tone carried a trace of urgency and a hint of anger.
Shayan lightly freed herself from the strap of the bag and set it down, then walked toward the table, exhaling slightly before speaking calmly: “I went to the church to officiate Xiuya and Williams’ wedding.” Her tone remained calm, seemingly attempting to maintain composure, but her slightly flushed cheeks still revealed a trace of emotion.
Kali’s face changed abruptly, his brows knitting, eyes igniting with anger. He slammed down his utensils with a heavy motion, muttering in dissatisfaction: “What? Shayan, you…” His tone was full of surprise and anger, as if he could not comprehend Shayan’s choice.
Jia-mei was startled by Kali’s sudden reaction, her hand trembling, almost spilling her soup. She quickly withdrew her hand, eyes showing confusion and tension, whispering: “Uncle Kali, please don’t get so agitated…”
Seeing this, Bossman furrowed his brow slightly, then lightly waved his hand toward Kali, his tone a little helpless: “Don’t scare the child!” His voice was calm, trying to ease the tense atmosphere.
Lalu turned around, looking at Shayan with concern, smiling: “Shayan, you must be hungry. Come, have dinner.” Her tone was gentle, with a trace of care, as she pushed a steaming bowl of soup toward Shayan, her eyes shimmering with tenderness.
However, Kali clearly had no intention of stopping. He stood up in anger, slapping the table forcefully, producing a dull sound, and spoke again in an angry tone: “Why didn’t you listen to my advice, Shayan?” He strode toward the backyard, evidently unable to tolerate further argument, the tense atmosphere intensifying with each step.
At this moment, Bossman took a deep breath, turning toward Kali with a slightly heavy but firm tone: “Kali, calm down! Shayan did nothing wrong in doing this!” He shook his head helplessly, trying to make Kali understand that Shayan’s decision was not impulsive but carefully considered.
Lalu added: “Yes! Brother, not all foreign men are faithless. You should respect Xiuya’s choice.” Her tone carried a reluctant admonishment, also criticizing Kali for excessive interference in Xiuya’s affairs.
Ali stood up, walking beside Kali, patting his shoulder gently, his tone soft but caring: “Calm down, Kali.” His tone seemed to comfort him while also conveying understanding of Kali’s emotions.
Yet, Kali’s heart was still filled with raging anger. Ignoring everyone’s advice, he raised his hand to cover his eyes and brows, his anger unspent. Then he walked to the backyard, his face filled with helplessness and frustration. As he walked, he took a deep drag of smoke, the haze mingling with his inner turbulence. The scent of tobacco seemed to somewhat quell his surging emotions, yet the inner pressure could not dissipate.
134
The sailboat gently swayed on the azure sea, sunlight scattering across the surface of the water, reflecting streaks of golden light. A gentle breeze stirred the elegant long hair, making it dance with the wind, forming a serene and beautiful scene together with Williams beside her. At the edge of the ship, the two stood side by side, the surrounding seawater quietly lapping against the hull, producing a soft sound. In the distance, the sunlight shimmered on the waves, resembling a sea of sparkling jewels.
Williams spoke in a low voice, with a trace of excitement in his tone, pointing toward the distant sea: “Xiuyah, look, there is a pod of dolphins on the water, chasing a school of fish.” He slightly turned his head to look at Xiuyah, a satisfied smile on his face.
Xiuyah raised her head, her eyes glimmering with light. She gazed at the lively group of dolphins in the distance and gently nodded, “I see them.” Her tone was gentle, seemingly captivated by the magnificent scene, but then her gaze lowered again. She took off the heart-shaped necklace from around her neck, gently brushing over the small photo on it, and fell into contemplation.
Williams noticed the change in Xiuyah’s mood, gently turned toward her, and lightly placed his hand on her shoulder, asking with concern: “Xiuyah, what are you thinking about?” His tone was soft, his eyes full of care and curiosity.
Xiuyah was slightly startled, then lifted her eyes to look at Williams. Her voice was low and slightly sorrowful: “This is a photo of my parents on their wedding day.” She gently caressed the necklace, staring at the two people in the photo, a trace of nostalgia and loneliness in her eyes.
Williams frowned slightly, surprised, and asked: “Is this your biological father?”
A hint of confusion passed through Xiuyah’s eyes, then she nodded, her tone calm yet tinged with a trace of helplessness: “Yes, his name is Junsheng. My mother said he came from the Netherlands.”
Upon hearing this, Williams’ expression became even more surprised, a flicker of shock in his eyes: “What a coincidence? I know him!” There was a trace of astonishment in his tone, as if he could not believe such a coincidence.
Xiuyah looked at Williams, a puzzled expression on her face, her brow slightly furrowed: “You know him?”
Williams nodded, his tone becoming more certain: “This Dr. Junsheng lives near my house. In the past, my family and I often went to him for treatment. I heard he came from Amsterdam, Netherlands.” His tone conveyed a sense of familiarity, as if recalling memories of the past.
Xiuyah’s eyes instantly widened, and she asked in surprise: “Then that must be him. So he moved to England—no wonder for the past twenty years, I couldn’t get any news about him.” Her tone carried a mix of disbelief and a long-lost hope. She tightly held the necklace, as if suddenly driven by some impulse, raised her head to look at Williams, and asked urgently: “Can you take me to see him?”
Williams showed a warm smile, gently patting her hand, his tone firm yet gentle: “Of course! Being able to reunite you with your father is a good thing.” His eyes showed support and understanding, as if he could feel the expectation in Xiuyah’s heart.
Xiuyah looked into Williams’ eyes, her expression tinged with emotion. She gently nodded, her voice low yet with a hint of relief: “I thought I would never see my biological father again in this lifetime.” A glimmer of tears flashed in her eyes, as if the long-hidden regret in her heart might finally find an answer at this moment.
The sea breeze caressed them, the sailboat slowly gliding across the ocean, and everything around seemed to freeze in this moment. Only the gaze and words between the two engraved this memory permanently in each other’s hearts.
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135
An English afternoon, sunlight streamed through the windows into the spacious living room, filling the air with a serene and warm atmosphere. The antique furniture in the room exuded a sense of history, and family photographs hung on the walls, quietly telling stories of the past. Outside, the garden was meticulously tended, the colorful flowers gently swaying in the breeze, as if flowing together with time.
Williams held Xiuyah’s hand as they stepped into this warm home. A trace of nervousness was on his face, but more than that, there was anticipation. He whispered to Xiuyah beside him: “This is our future. Perhaps here you will find some answers.”
Xiuyah’s gaze wandered, her mood complex—filled with expectation but tinged with a little unease. She tightly held the heart-shaped necklace and gold ring in her hands, these two meaningful tokens, ready to present them to the father she had not seen for a long time.
Junsheng sat on the sofa. Upon hearing the doorbell, he rose to greet them. When he saw Williams and Xiuyah entering, a flicker of surprise and curiosity passed over his eyes, and a smile immediately appeared on his face: “Congratulations, Williams. Please come in, both of you.” He greeted them warmly, with a tone carrying the familiarity of a long-unseen friend.
Williams smiled slightly, holding Xiuyah’s hand as they stepped into the living room. He turned to Junsheng, his tone earnest and respectful: “I have brought my newlywed wife to meet you, Doctor.”
Junsheng’s eyes immediately fixed on them, he paused for a moment, then nodded, his mood stirred: “Thank you, thank you both. Please, have a seat.” He gestured toward the sofa, signaling them to sit, his gaze unconsciously falling on Xiuyah’s face, as if searching for some familiar traces.
Williams gently nudged Xiuyah forward, his tone soft: “My wife wants to see you. She says you might be her long-lost family.”
Junsheng’s brow slightly furrowed, his expression showing some confusion: “Family?” He tried to process this sudden news.
Xiuyah took a deep breath, gently removed the heart-shaped necklace and gold ring, hesitated for a moment, then handed them to Junsheng. Her hand trembled slightly, as if she dared not look directly into his eyes. Junsheng’s hand trembled slightly as he took the two tokens, feeling the weight of the emotion. His eyes involuntarily welled up with a sense of excitement and shock.
Junsheng’s voice quivered slightly: “These two tokens, were they given to you by Shayun?” He paused, as if confirming everything before him.
Xiuyah’s voice was gentle yet firm: “Yes, Shayun is my sena. My name is Xiuyah.” Her gaze looked deeply at Junsheng, revealing a previously unspoken yearning in her eyes.
The shock in Junsheng’s eyes did not dissipate; instead, it deepened. He asked with concern: “Xiuyah, has your sena been well all these years?” His tone carried immense care, as if wanting to make up for the lost years.
Xiuyah lowered her head, tears welling in her eyes, her voice calm yet filled with endless sadness: “Sena goes to the pier every evening, waiting for my biological father to return.” She held the necklace tightly, as if feeling her mother’s loneliness.
Upon hearing this, Junsheng’s expression grew heavy, sorrow rising in his heart. He lowered his head, speaking with a tone full of pain: “I am sorry! I am the heartless man.” His hand trembled slightly, as if apologizing to his past self.
At this moment, Viana standing beside them was also affected by the atmosphere. Unsure of how to speak, she gently opened her mouth, attempting to defuse the tension for Junsheng: “You cannot blame Junsheng. When he left the Netherlands back then, he had no choice.” Her tone was gentle, as if trying to soothe Xiuyah’s emotions.
Xiuyah’s brow furrowed tightly, her tone slightly cold and indignant: “But for the past twenty years, you’ve been completely absent. That has been cruel to my sena.” Her tone was full of helplessness and disappointment, the pain long faded by time now surged back.
A trace of guilt appeared on Junsheng’s face. He said softly: “Xiuyah, I thought Shayun would be with Kari, and Kari would make her happy.” He gently lowered his eyes, his tone full of helplessness.
Xiuyah’s voice was cold and straightforward: “So you think that gives you the right to abandon us mother and daughter without any guilt?” She straightened her body, looking directly at Junsheng, her tone carrying pain that could not be concealed.
Junsheng lowered his head, appearing even more guilty, clasping his hands together, his tone sincere: “Xiuyah, I do not dare to hope for your forgiveness, but in my lifetime, I will do my best to make amends for my mistakes.” His tone was full of remorse and earnestness, as if longing for a trace of pardon.
Suddenly, Mary walked over from the side, apparently having heard fragments of the conversation. She asked, a bit confused: “Daddy, why is this sister speaking to you so rudely?”
Viana gently touched Mary’s head, smiling as she explained: “Mary, this sister is your father’s daughter. She has come from the Far East.” Her tone was gentle, with a hint of comfort.
Jack also stood nearby, appearing somewhat puzzled. He frowned and asked: “How can she be Daddy’s daughter? Why has Daddy never mentioned her?”
Viana smiled gently, her tone soft: “Twenty years ago, your father went to the Far East and married a girl there.”
Upon hearing this, Junsheng’s expression relaxed slightly. He stood up, turning to Williams and Xiuyah, his tone carrying some apology and gratitude: “Viana, since Williams and Xiuyah have come a long way, we should show them our hospitality.”
Viana smiled and nodded: “Okay, I’ll go prepare. Jack, Mary, come help Mommy in the kitchen.” She softly called the two children, leading them into the kitchen.
The atmosphere in the room remained quiet, but with Viana’s departure, this long-lost familial conversation seemed to find some room for relief.

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Shayun Engages in the Treatment of Smallpox
136
In the afternoon sunlight of England, Junsheng’s home was filled with a warm atmosphere. The candlelight in the living room flickered, and the golden light streaming through the curtains dyed every corner of the interior decoration with a soft hue. The table was laden with abundant dishes, and the chairs around the dining table were arranged in a circle; both hosts and guests were joyful, and the atmosphere was relaxed and heartwarming.
Vianna busied herself by the dining table, her smile warm and her tone friendly: “Williams, I didn’t expect that your bride would turn out to be Junsheng’s daughter.” She picked up a steaming plate of roast chicken as she joked.
Williams sat at the table, smiling slightly, with a gaze that carried both helplessness and delight: “I suppose this must be the will of God, right?” He lowered his head to glance at Xiuyan, as if marveling at the wondrous arrangement of fate.
Xiuyan sat beside him, her fingers lightly playing with the napkin, her eyes flickering with a trace of complex emotion. She raised her head and smiled faintly: “Perhaps. Fate always has a way of bringing us together in the most unexpected manner.”
Junsheng’s gaze focused on them, and he suddenly asked: “Williams, you two will return to Dayuan Port, right?” His tone carried a touch of concern, seemingly curious about the future plans of the newlyweds.
Williams nodded, his tone calm yet resolute: “Yes. After seeing my parents, I will accompany Xiuyan back there and settle down. ” His voice was full of hope for the future, and his eyes glimmered with a certain longing for home.
Junsheng’s expression softened; he wiped the corner of his mouth and smiled lightly: “Then I can go with you. I should go see Shayun.” His tone carried a hint of nostalgia as well as some guilt.
Vianna lifted her head, concern glimmering in her eyes, and looked at Junsheng: “Junsheng, why don’t we all go together?” Her tone was gentle, seemingly considering the possibility of the whole family going together.
Junsheng shook his head lightly, a trace of helplessness in his voice: “Not yet. This trip is to apologize to Shayun; I wronged her.” He lowered his head, taking a deep breath, his expression solemn, as if recalling past mistakes.
Xiuyan, upon hearing this, gently held Junsheng’s hand, her tone offering some comfort: “Sama, with this heart of yours, the grievances I, Sena, have suffered over these twenty years finally have some recompense.” Her voice was soft, tinged with a trace of firmness, and her eyes glistened faintly with tears.
Junsheng lifted his head, hands clasped together, his expression sorrowful and sincere, and he sighed softly: “I owe you both too much, alas!” His tone was filled with remorse, as if wanting to make amends for all wrongs in this fleeting moment.
Seeing this, Vianna smiled slightly, her tone carrying a touch of ease and humor: “Let’s not bring up sad matters during the meal; otherwise, we won’t taste the food’s flavor.” She reached to place a plate of vividly colored vegetables on the table, her gaze warm as she looked at everyone, hoping that a meal could relieve the heaviness in the air.
Williams also gently patted Xiuyan’s hand, his eyes tender: “Vianna is right. Today, we should set the past aside and enjoy this rare family gathering.” His words were filled with anticipation for the future, seemingly ready to face the life ahead with Xiuyan.
At this moment, the dining table’s atmosphere returned to a relaxed state, laughter and conversation intertwined, and the dishes on the table appeared especially enticing. The air was filled with the warmth of family reunion. Everyone, in this afternoon, temporarily set aside the burdens in their hearts, enjoying the time spent together.
137
Inside Junsheng’s clinic, the air was filled with a faint smell of herbs and disinfectant, and the atmosphere was unusually tense. Sunlight streamed through the windows, casting mottled shadows that illuminated the bustling waiting room. Among the patients coming and going, there were local villagers as well as some foreign merchants, their faces pale and expressions anxious, constantly whispering to one another.
In the waiting area, a middle-aged man paced impatiently, his face full of anxiety and unease. He could not help but ask: “When will it be my turn?” His tone was urgent, his eyes scanning the doors of the treatment rooms continuously.
Kali stood in the corner, fingers lightly tapping on the table, his tone calm yet authoritative: “Everyone, please remain calm. The doctor will see each patient one by one. Please keep quiet; when it is your turn, the doctor will call you.” As his words fell, a few patients in the waiting room quieted slightly, but anxious gazes still lingered on the doors of the consultation rooms.
Inside the consultation room, the situation was even tenser. Shayun was examining a foreign patient whose body was covered with dense blisters, causing pain almost everywhere. Shayun gently held his wrist, his fingertips lightly touching the skin, his brows slightly furrowed. Ali, Lalu, and Bosmen assisted nearby, the atmosphere tense, and every movement careful and deliberate.
Ali stood to the side, his face serious, his tone questioning: “Shayun, how can this disease spread so quickly? We didn’t even have time to react, and already so many people are infected.”
Shayun raised his head, a trace of worry in his eyes, his tone firm: “This is clearly a highly contagious disease, possibly airborne. I have already notified the church to send people to help handle it.” He turned to Ali: “You go to the church and ask Bishop Matthews to come; we need their help to accommodate the patients.”
Ali nodded, his tone urgent: “I’ll go to the church immediately.” He turned to leave, but Shayun suddenly called him back.
Shayun held Ali’s arm firmly, his tone low but earnest: “Before going out, remember to wipe your hands and face with alcohol cotton to protect yourself.” His tone carried a hint of an unmistakable warning.
Ali nodded lightly, a trace of gratitude in his eyes, and then turned to enter the dispensary. He quickly retrieved alcohol cotton from a metal box and carefully wiped his hands and face. Each time he wiped, his movements grew more careful; each layer of alcohol cotton served as a barrier, protecting himself from this unknown disease.
Lalu’s voice interrupted Shayun’s thoughts; she hurried into the consultation room, her tone anxious: “Shayun, the wards and backyard are already full of beds! We can’t accommodate any more patients!” She stood beside Shayun, anxiously looking at the increasing number of patients on the beds.
Shayun raised his head slightly, a trace of fatigue in his eyes, and softly replied: “I’ve already sent Ali to the church to seek Bishop Matthews’ help. Hopefully, he can send people to assist in accommodating the patients.” He reached for a bottle of medicine, carefully pouring it into a vial.
Lalu remained worried, her tone urgent: “Should we ask the nuns below to come help? We need more hands.” Her hands were crossed over her chest, her brows tightly furrowed.
Shayun shook his head, an expression of helplessness on his face: “No. The nuns are untrained in medical care; this would only increase the risk of infection.” His voice was firm and calm, yet carried a subtle anxiety.
Lalu lowered her head, sighing helplessly, then again looked toward the nearly overcrowded beds in the consultation room. Her tone intensified slightly: “Then how can we keep up? Every patient needs care; how can we manage if this continues?”
Shayun took a deep breath, slowly put down the bottle, and then fixed her gaze with determination: “We can only do our best, Lalu. Until I find a way to treat this infectious disease.” Her tone carried unwavering resolve, her eyes filled with longing for the future and a sense of responsibility toward the patients.
Bosmen stepped forward, gently patting Shayun on the shoulder, his tone full of concern and worry: “Shayun, you must take care of your own health. If you collapse, we will be completely helpless!” His voice was serious, his expression grave.
Shayun smiled wryly, shaking her head slightly, and softly responded: “I will pay attention to my health, Bosmen. Don’t worry; I won’t let myself fall.” Her eyes contained unyielding perseverance, as if no difficulty could make her succumb.
With Shayun’s words, the atmosphere in the clinic once again became tense. Everyone was searching for their role in this sudden disaster, and Shayun’s persistence undoubtedly became a guiding light in their hearts.
138
In the reception room of Junsheng’s clinic, the candlelight flickered with faint radiance, casting shadows of every person present. On the surrounding walls hung charts of medicinal herbs and diagnostic documents, and the air was permeated with a faint scent of herbs, mingled with a subtle undercurrent of anxiety. Bishop Matthews’ footsteps echoed across the wooden floor as he paced anxiously back and forth, his expression troubled; he would occasionally pause, stroking his chin with his hand, then resume walking. His brows were tightly furrowed, clearly revealing the unease within him.
Matthews frequently glanced out the window, seemingly attempting to seek some comfort from the outside view, yet when he turned back, his eyes were still filled with worry: “I never imagined that this infectious disease, which is rampant across the European continent, would be brought here by sailors and foreign merchants!” His tone was low, unable to fully confront the cruel reality.
Shayan sat by the table, holding an unopened letter in her hands, her expression calm yet faintly weary. She raised her head, her gaze clear and determined: “I am searching for a way to treat this infectious disease, but in truth, I have no certainty.” Her tone conveyed a hint of helplessness, yet it did not lose composure.
Hearing this, Matthews sighed lightly, approaching Shayan, placing his palm gently on her shoulder, his tone consoling: “Shayan, do not place too much pressure on yourself! This disease has been rampant across the European continent for several centuries. Even with Europe’s advanced scientific civilization and medical technology, there is still no specific cure or feasible treatment.” His voice contained a trace of helplessness, as if he too could offer little assistance.
Shayan drew a deep breath and nodded, yet her gaze remained firm, as though silently making a promise for herself and her patients: “I understand, but there are already patients who have died from complications. The clinic’s beds and backyard are packed with patients, unable to accommodate any more, and these patients must be appropriately isolated. Therefore, I ask you to come and help manage this.” Her tone became firmer, as if challenging fate itself.
Matthews nodded slightly, his worry deepening. When he entered, he had indeed noticed the situation inside the clinic: so many people lying in beds, life and death uncertain, a heavy reality for him. He straightened his posture, his tone serious: “I noticed your situation when I came in just now.” He looked at Shayan, eyes full of understanding and sympathy.
Then Matthews turned to Luise, speaking decisively: “Luise, after returning, draft an official letter to the churches in each district, requesting that they assist in sheltering the patients. If space is insufficient, open schools for this purpose.” His instructions were concise and powerful, his finger unconsciously tapping lightly on the table.
Luise stood straight, eyes focused, nodding in response: “Understood, Bishop.” Her voice was filled with determination; although facing such a massive challenge, there was not a trace of fear.
Matthews continued, his tone uncompromising and firm: “We need a large supply of medicines and medical personnel support. I will write to Bishop Rogers stationed in Batavia for assistance.” He looked up at Shayan: “Shayan, I am sending our young physician Benjamin here to learn from you. Once he masters treating smallpox patients, he will travel to each village for mobile medical care, training church personnel to assist with patients.” His tone carried a hint of expectation, hoping these steps would take effect quickly.
Shayan nodded gently, a flicker of gratitude in her eyes. She knew all of this was for alleviating the suffering and pressure on the patients. “Very well, I will teach him as soon as possible.” Her tone was calm but conveyed extraordinary determination.
At that moment, the reception room door was lightly knocked, and Kali rushed in to report the situation outside: “The number of patients outside the clinic continues to grow. We can no longer handle so many people.” His tone was urgent, brows furrowed, still clutching a patient’s diagnosis sheet.
Matthews and Shayan exchanged a glance, understanding each other silently. The road ahead remained long and full of challenges, yet every instruction, every collaboration, would be an indispensable part of this battle.
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139
Inside the office of the governor’s residence in Fort Zeelandia, the lighting was dim, and the air carried a sense of stifling heaviness. The desk was piled with unprocessed documents, while outside the window, the city streets seemed unusually silent, like a repressed stillness. Governor Putmans sat at the desk, a cigar smoldering in his mouth, the smoke curling through the air as if reflecting the anxiety and weight in his heart. His hands were clasped on the desk, gaze serious, thoughts deep.
His low voice reverberated through the office, filled with urgency and unease: “This wave of the smallpox epidemic is coming fiercely, spreading rapidly in the local area. We must find a way to control the outbreak as quickly as possible.” He exhaled a thick plume of smoke, then stroked his chin, brow furrowed as if weighing each decision.
Jones stood by the desk, brow slightly furrowed, his face showing a hint of contemplation. He looked at Putmans, speaking calmly and resolutely: “Smallpox is highly contagious. To control the outbreak, the already infected patients must be gathered together, preventing further spread.” He paused, eyes turning toward the distant view outside the window, as if seeing the future in the distance, then turned back to continue: “Doing so will at least prevent more innocent people from being infected.”
Putmans nodded slightly, thinking for a moment before setting down the cigar, hands crossed over his chest, his tone low but assured: “Thomas, your idea aligns with mine.” He leaned slightly back in his chair, a glimmer of decisiveness in his eyes, his tone suddenly more determined.
Seeing this, Jones nodded in agreement, then continued: “Near our vicinity is an island called Sazhou, sparsely populated, enough to accommodate these patients. The governor can order the guards to station there, confining smallpox to the island; in this way, we can control the spread of the epidemic.” He walked to the window, pointing toward the distant coastline, his reasoning calm: “The bodies of the dead can be cremated on site to prevent them from becoming a source of infection.”
A bright spark appeared in Putmans’ eyes, as if he had found the key to the problem. He smiled slightly, showing a trace of approval: “Yes, this method is feasible.” His tone was firm, without hesitation. He then turned to his aide, Whittes, giving orders: “Aide, transmit my command, dispatch troops to each village, gathering patients on Sazhou Island.” His finger lightly tapped the desk, his tone full of authority: “This is the only way to prevent the epidemic from spreading to the entire city.”
Whittes immediately straightened, stepping forward, responding in a low voice: “Yes, Governor.” He picked up the orders on the desk, quickly flipping through, ready to act. His movements were swift and decisive, reflecting his attention and determination to carry out the command.
As Whittes’ footsteps departed the office, Putmans focused again on the misty distance outside, his inner anxiety not yet fully dissipated. He knew this epidemic was not only a challenge for the city but also a test of his leadership ability. Yet, at this moment, a subtle force of hope quietly began to rise within him.
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140
Outside Junsheng’s clinic, sunlight filtered through the tall sycamore trees, casting dappled shadows. On the stone path in the courtyard, patients sat in a row, almost filling the open space in front of the gate. Some were pale-faced, expressions anxious, while others covered their foreheads with hands, occasionally coughing softly. Occasionally, a faint hissing sound carried through the air, as if someone was whispering or discussing in low voices, creating a tense and heavy atmosphere.
Suddenly, a troop of armed soldiers appeared at the clinic’s entrance. The soldiers wore heavy military uniforms, tightly gripping long rifles, their steps heavy and firm. Once they halted, they immediately blocked the clinic’s main gate, forming an unbreakable iron-clad formation. The patients grew somewhat panicked; some stood, whispering, while others began to worry whether they would be taken away.
Patient A raised his hand, pointing at the soldiers, asking anxiously: “What’s happening? Why has a troop of soldiers arrived?”
Patient B frowned, voice full of confusion: “This is a clinic. Why are these soldiers here?”
Kali, hearing the voices, immediately stepped forward, his steps quick and decisive, placing himself at the clinic’s entrance. He raised his hand, pointing at the officers, his tone tinged with anger: “Sir, why the grand formation? Since when has our clinic had such a close relationship with the government?”
Alpha stood at the front of the troop, eyes cold, responding in a deep voice: “Have your clinic’s head, Dr. Shayan, come out to speak?”
As the words fell, Dr. Benjamin and Ali, hearing the commotion outside, quickly moved to the door. They stood beside Kali. Benjamin slightly furrowed his brows, his tone calm but carrying firmness: “I am Benjamin, a physician sent by the Dominican Order for internship. May I ask, officer, why have you brought a troop of soldiers to the clinic?”
Alpha slightly bowed, then handed Benjamin an order document, his tone filled with the coldness of official duty: “By command of the head of the governor’s office, all smallpox patients in your clinic are to be transferred to nearby Sazhou Island for centralized isolation. The order is here; please comply as instructed.”
Benjamin took the document, quickly reading it, then returned it to Alpha, his tone calm yet implying refusal: “I’m afraid I cannot agree to this. Could we wait a moment for our bishop to arrive?”
Alpha’s gaze hardened, nodding: “Very well, I will wait for your bishop.” His tone was stern, without excess emotion.
Benjamin then turned to Kali, eyes resolute: “Brother Kali, please go to the church and inform Bishop Matthews to come here.”
Kali quickly responded, nodding: “Understood, I’ll go immediately.” He then swiftly turned and left.
Meanwhile, Ali also approached Shayan, alerting her to the situation and informing her that Bishop Matthews’ assistance would be needed.
Soon, Shayan, Ali, and Bosman appeared together at the doorway. Shayan’s expression remained calm, but a trace of concern could be seen in her eyes. She walked slowly to Benjamin’s side, whispering: “Dr. Benjamin, what’s happening? Why are these soldiers here?”
Benjamin immediately explained: “Sister Shayan, this troop is ordered to take away all the smallpox patients from the clinic. I have already sent Kali to request the bishop’s arrival.”
Shayan’s brows furrowed tightly, her face showing resolve, her tone strong: “These patients urgently need medical care. I will not agree to the officers’ request.”
Seeing the tense situation, Bosman immediately stepped forward, speaking calmly and logically: “Shayan, stay calm. Let me speak with the commanding officer.” He turned to Alpha, stepping steadily, his tone showing respect but also authority: “Officer, I am Bosman. Under the previous governor Peter, I served as his clerk.”
Alpha was slightly taken aback, a flash of surprise in his eyes, but quickly regained composure, his tone still steady: “Since you served as a clerk, you should understand we are acting under orders.”
Bosman shook his head, tone deliberate and measured yet forceful: “Even if under orders, forcibly taking severely ill patients is unreasonable both morally and practically.”
At that moment, Bishop Matthews and Sister Luise arrived. Matthews’ steps were steady, brows slightly furrowed, appearing highly focused. He looked at Alpha, his tone serious: “Which one of you is the commanding officer? I am Bishop Matthews.”
Alpha immediately saluted, bowing slightly, his tone respectful and impeccable: “I am Lieutenant Alpha, the commanding officer.”
Matthews took a deep breath, tone firm: “I will go with you into the city to meet your superior, Putmans.”
Shayan did not hesitate to respond, resolute: “Matthews, I will go with you.”
Bosman immediately nodded, tone decisive: “I will go as well.”
Alpha saluted, posture strict, gaze still calm: “The three of you, please.” He then signaled the soldiers to stand down and led Matthews and the other two toward Fort Zeelandia.

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Shayun Contracts Acute Pneumonia
141
Inside the office of the Helandeza City Governor’s Headquarters, the atmosphere was, as always, oppressive. Thick paintings hung on the surrounding walls; the frames had already begun to show signs of wear. The lighting was dim and yellowish, emitting a scent of old wood. Outside the window, the faint rustle of leaves in the breeze could be heard, yet these sounds were unable to soothe the tension inside the room. At the governor’s desk, Governor Putmans sat behind his large desk, which was piled high with documents, and a dim yellow lamp emitted a faint glow. Alpha stood beside him, whispering to Staff Officer Jones, conveying the intentions of Bishop Matthews and his accompanying personnel.
Alpha’s tone was low and quick; his eyebrows slightly furrowed as he gestured for Jones to pay attention: “Bishop, they seem to have some opinions about the Governor’s orders. Listen to what they have to say.”
Jones remained calm, his fingers lightly tapping the desk. After a moment of contemplation, he raised his eyes toward Bishop Matthews, his tone carrying a hint of provocation: “Bishop, it seems you have objections to the Governor’s orders? Speak your reasoning.”
Matthews stood straight, hands clasped behind his back, his gaze firm, his tone revealing deep concern over the matter: “This outbreak of smallpox is fierce. The Dominicans are striving to prevent the disease from spreading by concentrating patients from the villages into churches and affiliated schools. Therefore, I cannot accept the authorities’ plan to gather the patients on Sand Islet, leaving them to fend for themselves. Such a method is lacking in compassion and runs contrary to humanity.”
Shayun, standing beside Matthews, upon hearing this, immediately took over without hesitation. She clenched the documents in her hands, a determined expression on her face, her steps steady, her tone composed and strong: “Governor, according to medical literature, patients infected with smallpox, if properly treated, more than half can recover.”
Putmans’s eyebrows slightly raised, his gaze resting on Shayun’s face, showing a trace of doubt: “Lieutenant Alpha, who is this lady?”
Alpha quickly adjusted his posture, standing even straighter, and replied respectfully: “Report, Governor, this is Doctor Shayun, head of Junsheng Medical Hall, quite renowned locally.”
Putmans nodded, then turned to Matthews, his eyes revealing a degree of caution: “Bishop, judging from what you’ve just explained, it seems that your Dominican order is quite confident in preventing smallpox infections?”
Matthews’s gaze hardened, unwavering, his tone full of confidence: “Yes, Governor. We have mobilized medical staff and all clergy to assist in treatment, and we are confident we can quickly control the outbreak.”
Putmans’s eyes grew stern, his tone even more serious: “And if the outbreak still spirals out of control?”
Matthews slightly bowed, his expression solemn, his tone carrying a sense of assumed responsibility: “Then I will bear all responsibility.”
Putmans’s expression remained unchanged, and he continued in a calm tone: “Very well! Tell me what support you require.”
Matthews immediately took a letter from his bosom and handed it to Putmans, his tone firm: “I have written to Bishop Roges in Batavia City, requesting that he urgently send medical supplies and personnel.”
Putmans squinted his eyes, then spoke without haste: “I have a batch of reserve medicines in the city; take them for emergency use.”
Matthews bowed deeply, expressing gratitude: “Thank you, Governor, for your understanding.”
A cold smile appeared on Putmans’s face, his eyes sharp as knives. His tone slightly intensified: “Let me be clear: within three months, if you cannot eradicate smallpox, I will take necessary measures.”
As Putmans’s words fell, the air in the room froze for a moment. Everyone could sense the threat behind this statement. Matthews slightly lowered his head, already understanding that this battle concerned not only the patients’ lives but also the future of everyone involved.
Shayun glanced at Putmans, gently tightened her grip on the documents in her hands, her face showing no trace of fear, only more determination. Her gaze returned to Matthews, and the unspoken understanding between them reached its peak at this moment.
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142
In the rear courtyard of Junsheng Medical Hall, the afterglow of the setting sun filtered through the dense branches of the old trees, casting mottled shadows on the ground. The surroundings were tranquil, with only the occasional whisper of wind brushing through leaves, producing a faint rustling sound. Though the flowers and plants in the courtyard still retained some vitality, the air seemed laden with a stifling silence. The serenity of this moment formed a sharp contrast with the approaching storm.
Ali sat alone on a corner bench, body slightly leaning forward, hands wrapped around his knees, his face covered by a thick white mask. His brows were tightly furrowed, eyes half-closed, appearing utterly exhausted. His figure, elongated by the setting sun, radiated a sense of helplessness.
Soon, Lalu entered the courtyard with her daughter, Jamei, speaking softly as they walked slowly. Instinctively, Jamei moved toward Ali, asking with concern: “Uncle Ali, what’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?”
Ali, hearing the voice, slightly raised his head. A trace of weariness shone in his eyes as his low voice reverberated through the air: “Don’t come near me. I may have contracted smallpox.”
Lalu’s expression tensed immediately. She reached out and gently pulled Jamei back by the shoulder, her eyes showing unease: “Jamei, stay back for now. Go fetch Aunt Shayun.”
Jamei looked at Ali, her eyes filled with confusion and worry, but Lalu’s tone made her understand that distance was necessary at this moment. She turned and quickly walked into the house. Soon after, Shayun followed, her steps steady and decisive.
Seeing Ali seated there, Shayun slightly furrowed her brows, walked over, and gently placed her hand on Ali’s shoulder, her tone filled with concern: “Ali, let me check.” She examined the skin on the back of Ali’s hand and his face, her eyes narrowing into slits. She immediately noticed red rashes appearing, the spots resembling wounds dripping with fresh blood, gradually spreading.
Shayun spoke in a low voice: “Ali, you may have contracted smallpox. When did it start?”
Ali’s lips curved slightly into a bitter smile, though the smile carried helplessness and self-mockery: “Finally, I’ve been infected too. Last night I had a headache and fever, couldn’t sleep at all. This morning, the red rashes appeared, and my whole body started itching.”
Shayun crouched down, placing her hand lightly on Ali’s knee, her eyes filled with concern and reluctance: “Those rashes will quickly turn into small blisters. Don’t scratch them to avoid infection. I’ll prepare herbal medicine to clear your liver heat and replenish your strength.”
Ali, hearing this, shook his head with a wry smile, his tone slightly lightened: “Shayun, this gives me the chance to be your medicine guinea pig. Try all the formulas you want; before you find the cure, I’ll stay strong and survive.”
Shayun drew a deep breath, gently releasing Ali’s knee. A flash of tenderness and worry passed through her eyes as she whispered: “Ali, you must hang on…”
Lalu, standing nearby, eyes glistening with tears upon hearing Shayun’s words, slowly walked over to Ali, lightly patting his shoulder, her tone resolute and hopeful: “Ali, you will get through this. You absolutely will!”
Hearing this, although Ali was in pain, a trace of strength entered his heart. He took a deep breath, lifted his head, and looked at the sky no longer calm, the corners of his mouth slightly curved upward, silently telling himself: “I will endure.”
Shayun watched Ali’s gaze, not leaving immediately. She bent her head to adjust her robe and then turned to prepare the medicinal herbs. Lalu continued to stand by, silently guarding her friend. In the air, a wordless power seemed to condense; everyone’s hearts were aligned in the same direction.
143
Late at night, the clinic was as quiet as water, the only source of light being the dim kerosene lamp, whose glow cast flickering shadows on the walls. In Shayan’s bedroom, the desk was piled with thick Western medicine and traditional Chinese medicine books, each book appearing old and heavy. She sat quietly at the wooden desk, her fingers gently turning the worn pages of one book after another, her gaze focused and profound. These books emitted an aura of age; the edges of the pages had yellowed, seeming to carry countless wisdoms and experiences.
A slight furrow appeared on Shayan’s face as her eyes, focused by the lamp’s light, scanned one solution after another. She paused her hands, clasped the book tightly, and concentrated on reading a particular page. It was an ancient book titled Elbow Emergency Formulas, its pages slightly torn in places, yet Shayan’s eyes showed no hesitation. Suddenly, her eyes brightened, her lips moved slightly, softly reading a passage aloud:
“Variolation, the method is to take the scabs from the skin of a patient infected with smallpox, grind them into powder, and place it on human mucous membranes—for example, inside the nose or on the eyelids—allowing a person to develop mild smallpox symptoms. Afterward, they will no longer contract smallpox.”
Shayan whispered to herself, her tone full of sudden realization: “Fight poison with poison… why didn’t I think of this method before?” Her voice carried a hint of self-reproach, yet her eyes were ignited with a glimmer of hope. She quickly flipped to another page, urgently searching for more clues, a long-lost smile appearing on her face.
At that moment, the door to the room was gently pushed open, and Lalu quietly stepped in. Her footsteps were soft, making almost no sound, yet Shayan sensed the gaze and slowly turned around. Still holding the thread-bound ancient medical book, Shayan’s face unconsciously bloomed with a smile, as if all the exhaustion and pressure had instantly dissipated.
Lalu saw Shayan’s smile but then noticed her appearance, her brows slightly furrowing, her expression filled with concern: “Shayan, it’s late at night. You haven’t rested yet?”
Shayan smiled faintly, a trace of fatigue flickering in her eyes, yet her tone remained firm: “I have found a traditional Chinese medicine method to treat smallpox; it is recorded in this ancient book.” Her voice was clear and confident, as if all her efforts had finally paid off in this moment.
Upon hearing this, Lalu immediately frowned, her gaze shifting to Shayan’s hair. She couldn’t help but knit her brows slightly, her eyes gentle yet worried, slowly approaching Shayan, fingers lightly touching the tips of her hair, surprised to find that the originally black strands now contained traces of gray and white. “Shayan, your hair… it’s turning gray! You need to rest more…”
Shayan lightly shook her head, smiling calmly, eyes carrying both determination and tenderness: “I’m fine, Lalu.” She patted Lalu’s hand, seemingly to soothe her worry, then returned her gaze to the pages in her hands. She spoke softly: “This moment, for me, is more important than anything. As long as I can cure smallpox, all this exhaustion and the change in my hair doesn’t matter.”
Lalu looked at Shayan, her eyes filled with a mix of pity and admiration. She let out a gentle sigh, smiling slightly, resigned: “You are always like this, carrying everything yourself, refusing to let go of anything.”
Shayan did not respond, only lightly caressing the cover of the book, which carried not only the hope of treatment but also all her dedication and promise. Lalu knew that this strong woman had long shouldered her mission, and all she could do was silently guard her side.
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144
Inside the consultation room, the light was dim, and the air carried a faint scent of medicinal herbs. Various medical diagrams hung on the walls, wooden tables held all kinds of medicinal materials and bottles, and bookshelves were stacked with heavy medical texts. Shayan stood attentively at Ali’s bedside; on the table lay a plate of finely ground smallpox scab powder. The dim kerosene lamp reflected on strands of her hair at her forehead, as if mirroring the determination and anxiety in her eyes. She gently held a slender wheat tube and carefully blew the powder under Ali’s tongue.
Ali’s face showed slight pain, his brows furrowed, but there was still a glimmer of hope in his eyes. Shayan focused on him, her tone gentle yet full of confidence: “Ali, this is the method recorded in the ancient texts. I believe it should work.” Her voice was clear and steady; in this moment, all the tension and pressure were concentrated in her words.
Lalu stood at the bedside, her face showing worry, eyes fixed on Shayan’s movements. She could not help but whisper: “Ali, in order to find a cure for smallpox, Shayan has hardly rested these past days!” Her tone was filled with deep gratitude and concern, her hands tightly clutching her clothing, eyes filled with unspoken worry.
Kali stood on the other side, his brows slightly raised, his gaze unconsciously scanning Shayan’s hair, suddenly exclaiming in surprise: “Have you noticed? Shayan’s hair is turning gray!” His tone carried a mix of shock and pity, as he instinctively touched his own hairline, unable to comprehend the toil behind it all.
Bosmen stood at the door, his gaze deep and heart aching as he looked at Shayan’s back. He stepped closer, whispering softly: “Shayan, you’ve really overexerted yourself…” His tone was low and full of helplessness, words unspoken, only silently feeling all that Shayan had done for everyone.
Shayan lightly shook her head, a faint, almost imperceptible smile appearing at the corners of her lips, carrying hidden strength. She lifted her head and said to everyone: “As long as Ali can recover, let my hair turn completely white!” Her tone was firm yet light, as if she had long been accustomed to the efforts she put forth.
Kali’s face changed upon hearing this, a spark of emotion in his eyes. He patted Ali’s shoulder, his tone serious yet encouraging: “Ali, now that Shayan has said this, you must recover quickly!” He emphasized the word “quickly,” his gaze blazing, as if hoping to ignite more courage and hope in Ali.
Ali felt warmth in his heart upon hearing this, a grateful light appearing in his eyes. He nodded slightly, his voice calm yet resolute: “Thank you, everyone, for your concern. Actually, these past two days I’ve been feeling a bit better; the blisters on my skin are gradually disappearing.” His voice carried a hint of recovering strength; in the midst of the suffering of these days, this moment’s words were the most precious strength shared among them.
Seeing Ali slightly relaxed, a weight lifted from Shayan’s heart, and a faint smile appeared on her face. She gently caressed the back of Ali’s hand, her tone warm and resolute: “Ali, you will get through this. We will all be here waiting for you to recover.” Her touch was gentle yet firm, like a source of warmth, conveying endless support and hope.
In the clinic bedroom, the dim kerosene lamp emitted a faint glow; the air was humid, as if every corner were permeated with the scent of herbs and steam. The window by the bedside was slightly open, and the night wind softly stirred the white curtain, bringing a hint of coolness. Shayan sat on the edge of the bed, her body slightly hunched, one hand tightly covering her mouth and nose, the other trembling slightly as she clutched a towel. Her complexion was unusually pale, her eyes faintly revealing fatigue and pain.
With an intermittent cough, Shayan released the towel, lowering her gaze to the pool of fresh blood on it. Her chest rose and fell slightly, seemingly trying to remain calm, yet in that moment, her weakness made her figure appear even more fragile.
Lalu pushed the door open and entered, her face turning pale at the sight, her heart tightening. She hurried to the bedside, panicked, shouting: “Shayan, you’ve coughed up blood!” Her voice was urgent and anxious, her eyes full of worry, her hands instinctively grasping Shayan’s shoulders, trying to offer some support.
Shayan looked up at Lalu, the pain in her eyes almost overflowing. She tried to smile, but the smile was so fragile it seemed ready to vanish with the wind: “Lalu, I’m fine, it’s just…” Her voice was weak, her tone carrying helplessness and self-mockery.
Lalu took a deep breath, forcing down the panic in her heart, gently lifting Shayan into her arms, letting her rest against her shoulder. She whispered: “Shayan, you can’t do this… we need help. We can’t let you just give up like this.” Her arms gently wrapped around Shayan, offering comfort and support.
At that moment, Kali, hearing Lalu’s shouting, hurriedly pushed the door open, his gaze instantly locking onto Shayan’s pale face, his expression becoming serious, stepping quickly to the bedside: “Shayan, you must pull through!” His tone was filled with anxiety; his hands instinctively grasped Shayan’s, the warmth from his palms seeming to try to draw her back from the icy pain.
Lalu turned to Kali, a flash of helplessness and anxiety in her eyes, urgently saying: “Brother, quickly go to the church and get Benjamin over here! Shayan is very ill!” Her tone was urgent, almost commanding, her hands repeatedly patting Shayan’s back to comfort her, yet her inner worry could not dissipate.
Kali immediately nodded, no hesitation in his eyes. He turned quickly, his tone urgent: “I’m going now!” He strode toward the door, but before leaving, his gaze lingered on Shayan again, as if wanting to give her more support. He whispered: “Shayan, wait for us. You must hang on.” Then he hurriedly disappeared outside the door, vanishing into the night.
Shayan, hearing Kali’s footsteps gradually fade, closed her eyes slightly, feeling Lalu’s embrace and warmth. Her lips moved, producing a faint, low whisper: “Lalu, I… am really… so tired…” Her voice was like a weak whisper in the wind, carrying helplessness and fatigue, as if searching for a trace of comfort for herself.
145
Outside the window, the night was as dark as ink, raindrops densely striking the roof tiles and window frames. The wind howled past, like a beast roaring in the darkness, and occasionally lightning tore across the sky, illuminating the dimly lit clinic in flashes. The damp air seeped inside, the lamp light flickering unsteadily, as if it could go out at any moment.
Shayan’s bedroom was crowded with people, the air thick with anxiety and the strong scent of medicine. Lalu half-kneeling by the bedside, carefully helped Shayan sit up, her palm pressed firmly against Shayan’s back, as if holding up a teetering mountain. Shayan’s eyes were half-closed, her breath rapid, her chest rising and falling slightly with each gasp; her complexion was as pale as paper, and fine cold sweat beaded her forehead.
Benjamin stood at the bedside, holding a stethoscope in one hand, his brows tightly furrowed. He placed the cold stethoscope against Shayan’s front chest and back. Shayan coughed lightly, letting out a hoarse moan. After finishing the examination, he slowly removed the stethoscope, his expression becoming unusually heavy.
Kali stood beside him, fists clenched, finally unable to restrain himself, and asked: “What kind of illness is it? How could she be vomiting blood? Wasn’t she just vaccinating everyone safely?”
Benjamin’s voice was low: “It’s acute pneumonia caused by smallpox. She has been holding back for several days before telling you. You… have all been too negligent of her.”
These words struck everyone like a heavy blow, and the air instantly grew even more oppressive.
Bosmen lowered his head, his tone filled with apology: “These past days, Ali’s condition improved, and Shayan told us to split up to vaccinate the villagers. She told us to go with peace of mind, and even said she was fine… We really thought she could handle it…”
Ali struggled to rise from the chair, his face filled with guilt and pain. He went to the bedside and knelt, grasping Shayan’s cold hand: “It’s all my fault… If I hadn’t fallen ill, she wouldn’t have pushed herself like this… I brought this upon her!”
Lalu turned to him, placing both hands on Ali’s shoulders, speaking softly yet firmly: “Ali, don’t think like that. You are the patient. She wanted to help you because she believes your life is worth saving too.”
Kali stepped forward, his voice trembling as he asked Benjamin: “Then… how serious is her condition?”
Benjamin closed his eyes, his voice so low it was as if he feared speaking it aloud: “Very serious. I’m worried… the existing medicines may not be able to save her…”
In that instant, the room fell into a deathlike silence. Only the sound of the rain outside, pouring like a waterfall, could be heard, as if even heaven itself were weeping for Shayan’s fate.
Kali suddenly spread his arms wide and looked up at the ceiling, shouting: “Ali-Zu—what kind of lousy joke are you playing on me?! We just started to have a little hope!”
Bosmen immediately stepped forward, pressing a hand on Kali’s shoulder to steady his trembling body: “Kali, calm down. We can’t lose our composure… Benjamin must still have a way, right?”
Benjamin did not respond, only clenching his teeth, his gaze turning to the darkness outside the window. A flash of lightning illuminated the worried side of his face.
Everyone present fell silent. The shadows on their faces were stretched by the lamplight, tightly surrounding Shayan’s faint breathing, like a silent prayer standing vigil before dawn.

Chapter 29: Junsheng and Xiuyah Depart for the Far East
146
The outskirts of London were shrouded in thick fog as heavy as lead, the entire city seeming to be covered by a layer of gray-white veil. The silhouette of the distant clock tower beyond the window was blurred as if in a dream. Cold wind weaved between the bricks and chimneys, carrying a low, mournful wail.
In Williams’s bedroom, a warm yellow kerosene lamp had not yet gone out. Its flame flickered unsteadily, casting the shadows of two figures nestled together. Williams’s arm held Xiuyah close; the two were curled under a soft down comforter. The curtain moved slightly, letting in a chill.
Suddenly, Shayan’s figure appeared by the door. She was dressed in white, her expression calm yet tinged with sorrow, standing by the bed, staring at the sleeping Xiuyah. She slowly raised her hand and gently waved goodbye to Xiuyah, like a petal in the wind—silent and resolute.
Xiuyah’s brows furrowed tightly. She let out a low sob and was instantly awakened, sitting up abruptly, gasping for air, her eyes searching in panic for the fleeting figure. Her voice trembled and quavered with tears as she shouted:
“Sena! No… don’t go…!”
Her cry pierced the quiet night. Williams awoke as well. Instinctively, he reached out and held her shoulders, his voice urgent:
“What’s wrong? Xiuyah, did you have a nightmare?”
Xiuyah shivered all over, gripping Williams’s nightshirt tightly, tears streaming down her cheeks uncontrollably:
“I dreamed of Sena… she came to say goodbye… she was right here, waving at me… her face was so pale, as if… she was about to leave this world…”
Williams froze, silent for a few seconds. Then he gently stroked her back with his hand, letting her lean against him, soothing her softly:
“Don’t let your mind run wild. It’s just a dream. Sena is a strong girl. I believe she can make it through. What’s most important now is that you rest well.”
He touched his forehead to hers, feeling the cold sweat, then tucked the comforter around her more securely, his tone gentle yet firm:
“We set sail early tomorrow morning. Back at Dayuan Port, maybe we’ll hear news of her… We have to depart with hope, okay?”
Xiuyah nodded. Though her eyes were filled with tears, she managed a faint smile, like a heart pulled back from the edge of a nightmare.
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147
The next morning, at the London harbor docks. Thick fog still lingered, and the sea breeze carried a salty sting to the face. The distant outline of ships was ghostly and indistinct. Only the heavy footsteps along the wooden walkway and the creak of ropes being secured reminded people that this was a moment of departure.
Vianna, wearing a long cloak, stood by the harbor, holding the hands of two children. They gazed at the sailboat slowly leaving the dock. The children waved constantly, shouting:
“Goodbye! Auntie! Goodbye!”
Onboard the ship, Xiuyah wore a deep blue windcoat, standing at the edge of the deck with Williams and Junsheng. The three waved back. Xiuyah’s eyes kept scanning the crowd along the shore, as if still searching for a familiar soul.
Junsheng whispered to her:
“Soon, we will return to the place where she was born.”
Williams reached out, adjusting a wool scarf around her, and said:
“Perhaps, there, we will find everything she wanted to tell us.”
The sea breeze carried their words into the fog. The sailboat drifted farther, like memories vanishing in a dream, floating toward distant Dayuan Port and the meeting point with an unknown fate.
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148
Night fell, deep and dark as ink. Outside, wind and rain raged, pounding the wooden walls with low, mournful cries. Rainwater slid from the eaves like tears down a cheek. The ground was slippery; the air carried a mix of dampness and herbs.
A single oil lamp burned dimly inside the bedroom. The wick trembled, the yellow light revealing the exhaustion of the room. Shayan lay on the bed, breathing rapidly, her face pale as paper. Lalu sat by the bed against the wall, still holding Shayan’s hand, her body leaning slightly forward from fatigue, softly snoring in the lamp’s shadow.
Suddenly, a violent cough cut through the night’s silence.
Shayan awoke abruptly, propping herself against the pillow, her upper body trembling slightly. The cough came like a blade cutting her throat, erupting from deep within her chest. Lalu awoke, opening her eyes and immediately leaning closer, one hand supporting Shayan, the other pouring a full bamboo cup of warm water from the table.
“Take it slowly… here, moisten your throat first.” Lalu’s voice trembled as she brought the cup to Shayan’s lips.
Shayan sipped with effort, hands clutched tightly over her mouth and nose, a wet gurgling sound emerging from her throat. Her body leaned forward, trying to expel the phlegm. Lalu immediately supported her, gently patting her back.
“Cough it out… it’s okay once it’s out…”
But then, Shayan convulsed suddenly, spitting a large mouthful of bright blood that splashed onto the bamboo cup and her clothing, crimson as fire.
“Shayan!” Lalu’s eyes widened in shock. Panic overtook her; she grabbed a towel tremblingly from the bedside, ignoring her sleeves now stained red, hurriedly wiping Shayan’s mouth, nose, and hands, shouting in a quivering voice:
“Kali! Bosmen! Someone come quickly! Shayan is vomiting blood!”
The wind and rain could not drown her call. Lights lit up in several nearby huts.
Kali was the first to rush in, wearing only a simple hemp robe, barefoot. He knelt beside the bed immediately, his face ashen:
“What happened? Shayan, what’s wrong!?”
Lalu choked back her sobs, holding up the blood-stained towel:
“She just vomited a large amount of blood… more than before!”
Bosmen followed closely, one hand on the doorframe, gasping. The moment he saw Shayan’s face, his expression darkened.
Ali ran in as well, panting:
“What happened? I’ll go get Benjamin!”
He turned to rush out, but had not taken a single step when Shayan raised her hand with effort, her voice dry and torn like ripped cloth:
“It’s too late… Ali…”
The moment her voice left her lips, the room fell silent.
Ali froze, turning to look at her. Kali’s eyes quickly reddened, Lalu could not help but lower her head to sob. Only Shayan’s gaze remained calm, as if she already knew what was to come.
She slightly straightened her upper body, hands folded over her chest, and slowly, quietly sang an ancient Siraya love song. The melody was broken, like leaves drifting in the wind, interspersed with gasps and blood-tinged phlegm.
The song was mournful, like a farewell prepared for herself.
Everyone listened quietly. Even the wind seemed to have hushed.
Midway, Shayan’s voice abruptly stopped. Two tears of blood slipped from her eyes, and blood trickled from the corners of her mouth. Her eyes slowly closed. Her body leaned back and fell gently like a withered branch, silently.
“Shayan!!” Kali screamed, a heart-wrenching cry, lunging to shake her body.
“Don’t sleep! Wake up! You promised us! Didn’t you say you wanted to see our tribe recover!?”
Ali stood stunned, tears streaming like rain. Bosmen lowered his head, pressing his hat tightly over his face. Lalu threw herself on Shayan, palms on her now-cold cheeks, trembling uncontrollably.
At that moment, time seemed to freeze. The four of them sat around the bed, tears falling mingled with the sound of rain. The flickering lamp cast their grief-stricken faces in light, and also Shayan’s serene yet resolute final expression.
149
Two months later, the sky was covered with thick clouds, like a heavy lid pressed over the earth. The black layers of clouds blocked all sunlight, and the air was filled with moisture and the salty scent of the sea. The seaside cemetery was desolate and cold. In the distance, waves crashed against the rocky shore, emitting a low, silent rumble, as if telling of endless sorrow.
Kali brought Junsheng to Shayan’s grave. Around them, everything was quiet, with only the sounds of the wind and the sea as a backdrop. Behind them, Williams, Xiuyah, and a group of friends and relatives stood at the edge of the cemetery, solemn, silently accompanying them. The wind swirled fine sand, sticking to everyone’s faces, carrying along the weight of grief.
Kali stopped, drew in a deep breath, his eyes filled with pain, looking at the tombstone in front of him, and slowly spoke:
“Shayan, the Junsheng you thought of day and night has returned. He is right here before you.”
He pointed to Junsheng beside him, his tone carrying a hint of reproach and helplessness.
Junsheng’s knees suddenly buckled, and he fell to the ground before Shayan’s grave. His cry of grief trembled in the wind. His hands grasped the tombstone tightly, his nails digging into the cold stone. Tears poured forth like a flood, unstoppable:
“Shayan… Shayan…”
His voice was broken and helpless, as if being pulled by the memories and guilt of the past.
Xiuyah knelt beside him silently, following Junsheng. Her hands covered her face, and tears slipped through her fingers. She sobbed quietly, like a wordless poem, sorrowful and profound.
Kali stood beside them, his gaze hard, filled with deep disappointment. He pointed at Junsheng’s face, his voice full of grief:
“Shayan waited for you by the pier for twenty years. How could you be so heartless?”
His tone was like thunder tearing through the night sky, filled with accusation and helplessness.
Junsheng lowered his head, his vision blurred by tears. His voice was low, as if coming from the depths of an abyss:
“Shayan, it is I who have failed you…”
As these words left his mouth, it was as if he had given a part of his own soul to this desolate cemetery.
Nearby, Matthews looked up at the gloomy sky, his hands hanging powerless at his sides. He sighed deeply, his tone full of helplessness and confusion:
“God, the test you set is truly too difficult, too bitter…”
His voice carried a hint of despair, like a lost traveler who had lost all guidance.
Hearing Matthews, Xiuyah clasped her hands together and bowed her head, softly murmuring a prayer:
“Sena, you must forgive Sama…”
Her voice carried a profound sincerity, speaking to a distant soul, expressing her wish.
At that moment, a few seabirds circled overhead, flying low and crying piercingly, as if responding to the grief of everyone on this land. Each person present lowered their head silently, their hearts stirred by the sorrow. In the wind, the sound of waves striking the rocks grew even more mournful, as if mourning Shayan’s departure. The air was thick with a solemn atmosphere; all the grief converged at this moment, unable to be released.
________________________________________
150
The sun hung high in the sky, shining on the white walls and red tiles of the streets of Dayuan. The air carried faint scents of herbs and the sea breeze. At the entrance of Junsheng’s clinic, two lines of people stretched out from the doorway. One line consisted of anxious family members supporting children and adults with smallpox. The other line consisted of villagers coming for variolation. Between the two lines, a simple screen made of bamboo and white cloth had been set up to prevent cross-contamination.
Everyone wore straw hats on their heads, holding handkerchiefs. Some carried infants, some quietly recited Buddhist prayers, all staring at the clinic doors as if seeing a sliver of hope.
Kali stood at the entrance, his voice loud, maintaining order. Sweat dripped from his temples as he shouted continuously:
“Attention, villagers! Don’t line up in the wrong queue! Smallpox patients on the left, variolation on the right. Line up properly, don’t push!”
An elderly woman, trembling, held her grandson and went the wrong way. Kali quickly stepped over, gently guiding her:
“Grandmother, this way. Your grandson is here for variolation. Follow me.”
The old woman nodded gratefully, her lips trembling:
“Thank you, young man.”
Inside the clinic, sunlight filtered through the paper windows. A wisp of dust floated slowly in the air. Junsheng, wearing a plain white robe, focused intently, carefully examining a smallpox patient. He lifted the patient’s arm, inspecting the sores on the skin, his brows slightly furrowed. On the desk lay several packages of medicine and prescriptions written with ink.
Xiuyah, wearing a cloth head covering, was grinding herbs beside him, her face slightly sweaty. She softly said:
“Sama, aren’t you tired? Do you want to rest for a bit?”
She set down the pestle and handed him a cup of coix seed water.
Junsheng took the water, sipped, his throat moving a few times, then smiled:
“I’m fine. In the past few days, fewer people have come for treatment than before—the epidemic is starting to stabilize.”
He paused for a moment, looking at Xiuyah’s bright eyes, his tone gentle:
“Xiuyah, you must learn well from me. One day, you too should become someone who helps others, just like your Sena.”
Xiuyah’s eyes reddened, and she nodded:
“I will, Sama… I definitely will.”
She gently tugged at Junsheng’s sleeve and quietly asked:
“Then… will you go back to England?”
Junsheng gazed at the blue sky outside the window, thought for a moment, then said firmly:
“No, I won’t go back. I am more needed here.”
He turned his head, showing a long-missed gentle smile:
“I’ve already written, asking Vianna to bring the children here to reunite.”
Xiuyah paused, then her eyes brightened, a smile rising at the corners of her mouth:
“Really? She’s willing to come here?”
Junsheng nodded, his eyes carrying a sense of relief:
“What I owed there, I will slowly repay here.”
Father and daughter looked at each other, their smiles filled with deep understanding and tacit connection. He reached out, gently ruffling Xiuyah’s hair, both a gesture of remorse for the past and a promise for the future.
Outside, Kali looked into the clinic, saw this heartwarming scene, grinned, and loudly shouted:
“Next! Those for variolation, come forward!”
The camera slowly pulled back. The crowds continued, the wind still blew, but a lantern at the street corner of the clinic swayed gently. In the soft glow, the silhouettes of the father and daughter quietly extended, planting the seeds of life once more from the ruins after the storm.
(The End)