HCAW 57

Chapter 57: Si Chen’s Night Vigil

Si Chen pulled the towline.

It was the hardest of all labor. The coarse, thick hemp rope chafed her shoulders daily until they bled, the pain sharp like a blade carving into her flesh. She wrapped her chest with a rough shirt and, like the shirtless towmen beside her, hauled the line along the rushing current. Dragging it for a single li earned her one copper coin. She was often tripped by the tow rope, swallowed by the swift river, cold and starving.

And even this work wasn’t easily come by—it had been passed to her by the boy who had once helped her on the path to Qingyu Gao Mountain.

The boy was named Yan Xin. He was young, but a porter in the border army. Troubled by Si Chen’s misfortune—after all, it was he who had told her about the Ruyi Guard recruiting servants—he felt responsible for the ruinous downfall she now faced.

Yan Xin comforted her, saying, “It’s not much, just a few coins, but bear with it for now. Once I find a better place, I’ll take you there.”

Si Chen scoffed. In Yingzhou, the only person one could trust was oneself.

While she toiled in silence, Yingzhou was stirred by unrest. Uniformed enforcers passed back and forth constantly, as if conducting a major manhunt.

Si Chen had no time to worry about it—day after day she threw herself into the bone-crushing labor.

But then something shattered her grim routine—A slave had escaped.

The Ming Sea stretched boundlessly, and normally, few slaves dared to dream of escape. Yet now and then, someone tried.

This time, it was a boatwoman. She stole a small boat to flee, but was captured mid-journey by Xian Mountain officials.

That day, as Si Chen crossed the floating bridge, she saw a dense crowd in heated uproar. Pushing her way through, she saw a woman sprawled on the ground, bruised and bloodied, being beaten by the Xian Mountain officers. Their batons rained down like a storm.

“Speak!” one officer barked viciously. “Who helped you steal the boar? Who was your accomplice?”

The woman said nothing.

Si Chen knew why she had tried to escape—she had seen her before, and knew she had a young child.

She had tried to flee not just for herself, but to spare the child further beatings. Even as the officers’ fists and batons landed mercilessly, she refused to give up the child’s name.

That way, even if her escape failed, her child might still quietly slip back among the other slaves.

As Si Chen watched in a daze, the woman suddenly lifted her head, scanning the crowd—

And then her eyes locked on Si Chen like an arrow.

“It was her!” the woman shouted, pointing. “We escaped together, but she turned back when we hit the sea winds… She’s the one who planned it!”

Si Chen paled in shock. She had only passed through here—how had she suddenly become the scapegoat?

“That’s a lie! I never even spoke to you!” she cried.

The woman kowtowed frantically. “Sir, please believe me—she’s the one behind it!”

She was framing Si Chen to distract the officers, buying time for her child to escape.

Realization struck Si Chen hard. She yelled, strained to defend herself—but suspicious eyes had already begun turning her way.

Someone muttered “jinx,” and the word spread like disease, quickly infecting the crowd.

No one would speak in defense of a jinx.

The Xian Mountain officers were all too happy to seize a scapegoat.

Si Chen’s hair was yanked—she was dragged to the ground, batons raining down.

A pouch tumbled from her clothing.

One of the officers picked it up, weighed it in his hand, and grinned, teeth flashing white.

“This little jinx sure has some savings!”

“Give that back!” Sichen screamed like she’d been bitten by a snake, leaping up—

Only to be struck down again under a flurry of kicks. Pain spread through her limbs and bones.

She could only watch as her meager savings were taken—copper coins scraped together over years of rising early and working late, her only hope of ever leaving Yingzhou.

But the pain overwhelmed her.

By the time she rose again, the officer who’d robbed her had vanished.

They’d known she was innocent—but took the chance to bleed her dry.

The woman was hauled away for further interrogation, and Sichen was left penniless once more.

Her thirty years of forced labor would now start all over again.

In the storm and wind, the floating bridge swayed.

Si Chen stood at its edge, soaked through, like a lonely ghost wandering the world.

She was alone again, with nothing left.

As she gazed into the pitch-black Ming Sea, it looked to her like a giant coffin, ready to swallow her whole.

The waves murmured like mocking voices:

“Jinx… jinx…”

She felt exhausted.

She wanted to die.

What joy was left in living?

If there was anything in the world she was still attached to—It was fire.

Since birth, she had rarely felt its warmth.

Trees were scarce in Yingzhou, and firewood was expensive.

But she loved the smell of burning jujube branches, loved the light and heat bursting from dead wood.

The few nights she’d slept beside a fire were the happiest in her year.

Head hung low, Si Chen stepped forward, ready to throw herself into the sea.

But just then, her eye caught a pale shape drifting in the water.

It floated up and down like a shard of porcelain—startlingly bright.

She blinked, then realized—It was a person.

Possibly alive!

Her death wish fled her mind.

A wave pushed the figure toward the bridge.

She grabbed a strip of bamboo, tied it into a loop, and threw it out, catching the body and dragging it in.

Years of hauling towlines had made the task easy.

Once she pulled the figure aboard, she saw it was a woman, dressed in a velvet robe.

She was covered in wounds, her flesh torn and twisted, face grotesque and frightening.

Si Chen jumped, but then noticed her chest faintly rising.

Si Chen carried her to a reed-roofed boat.

This was her new refuge—a dilapidated ship, long abandoned after being the site of a bloody pirate slaughter.

Its dried bloodstains had never been cleaned, and few dared come near.

She hoisted the woman’s legs over her shoulders and carried her inside.

The woman was heavy, like iron.

After a few coughs, she vomited up seawater—a trick Si Chen had learned from the other towmen.

She carefully undressed her and found a strong, muscular body, her muscles defined like cast bronze.

Si Chen sprinkled some baizhi powder¹ traditional Chinese herbal powder made from the dried root of the Baizhi plant, which is Angelica dahurica in Latin. on her wounds and borrowed clean cloth from Aunt Xiang in a nearby boat to wrap them.

The woman was strong—like a warhorse. Who on earth was she?

Si Chen then mixed the oil cockles and fragrant pepper she’d owed Yan Xin and ate a few mouthfuls.

Her hunger faded, and her despair vanished with it.

She didn’t know how long had passed when the woman groaned lowly and stirred awake.

In the dim light, Si Chen vaguely saw a pair of hawk-like eyes—sharp and commanding.

The woman’s gaze swept the air before settling on Si Chen.

For some reason, Si Chen shuddered, like a rabbit caught in an eagle’s claws.

“Where am I?” the woman murmured—yet her voice was firm and powerful.

Hearing it, Si Chen’s legs nearly gave out. She stammered:

“I saw you… in the sea, so I pulled you out.”

The woman slowly sat up.

Though she was grievously wounded, not a flicker of pain crossed her face—it was as if her injuries were mere decorations.

She studied Si Chen, then her expression softened.

“Little girl… who are you? Why did you save me?”

Si Chen’s voice trembled like a cricket’s in late autumn. “I—I’m a slave. I was going to throw myself into the sea… but then I saw you.”

“And seeing me made you forget about dying?” The woman laughed heartily.

“I only meant to die alone. If I let you die too, it would’ve meant two lives gone.”

The woman burst into loud laughter. Her smile burned like fire, and when Si Chen saw it, for some reason it felt as though a flame had been lit in her chest too—warm and bright.

The tall woman sat up and noticed the rope-burns all over Si Chen’s hands. She frowned, grabbed one of her hands, and asked, “What happened here?”

“They got scraped… when I pulled you out.”

Out of the corner of her eye, the woman spotted a bottle of baizhi powder nearby. She picked it up, seized Si Chen’s hand again, and poured the powder onto her wounds without asking.

Sichen cried out, “What are you doing? That’s expensive medicine!”

The woman didn’t care. “Medicine’s meant to be used. Letting it sit only breeds bugs. I’ll get you another bottle later.”

She stood, nearly bumping her head on the roof, glanced around, and asked, “Is this your home?”

She was clearly badly injured, yet she moved like she was perfectly fine. Just standing up, her presence filled the room like she owned the boat.

Si Chen was speechless and finally gave a reluctant nod.

The woman noticed a bowl by Si Chen’s feet, half-filled with unfinished cockles in spiced oil. She picked it up and frowned. “Why are you eating raw food like this?”

“This kind of boat catches fire easily… and firewood’s expensive. We usually eat raw.”

Only then did Si Chen realize she still didn’t know who this mysterious woman really was.

“Who are you?”

The woman laughed loudly, then patted Si Chen’s head and said,

“I am the fire of Yingzhou.”

She strode toward the door in long strides. Si Chen rushed to stop her. “Your injuries aren’t healed yet—where are you going?”

“To stretch my muscles.”

And with that, the woman left, leaving Si Chen dumbfounded.

Soon after, the boat shuddered. Had they hit a reef?

Alarmed, Si Chen ran outside—only to see a massive shadow slowly approaching.

The woman returned carrying bundles of red mangrove branches and chunks of shipwreck wood.

Si Chen gaped. “Where did you get that?!”

“Pulled it from the Yingzhou Garden.”

The Yingzhou Guarden was a highly guarded leisure estate for the Xian Mountain Guards and high officials, filled with planted trees. The shipwreck wood was rare and usually salvaged from Qingyu Gao Mountain—ironwood that was heavy beyond compare.

Had this woman really plunged into the sea and pulled all this out with her bare hands?

As Si Chen stared in awe, the woman dumped the wood by the floating bridge, carried the branches into the boat, and stuffed them into a clay stove.

She lit the fire with practiced ease, striking stone with skill. Soon, a fire blazed, and she began roasting dark, gourd-like things skewered on sticks.

“What’s this?” Si Chen asked hesitantly, holding the blackened gourd.

“Swamp meat. Fills your belly. Just try it.”

Si Chen took a bite—it was slick and fragrant, and with sea salt, unexpectedly delicious.

The woman roasted fish next, and Si Chen ate until she was full for the first time.

Warmth filled the boat, and as Si Chen gazed at the woman’s smiling face, she was struck with a thought—Is this what a home feels like?

The next day, as the rain cleared, the woman didn’t rest.

She somehow found nails, a hammer, and fish glue and began repairing the boat.

Before long, the old reed boat shone like new.

To stay hidden, the exterior was still covered in reeds.

The woman worked quickly and cleaned thoroughly; she could even spear fish with perfect accuracy.

For the first time in her life, Si Chen ate her fill and slept peacefully.

To her, the tall woman became almost divine.

“Who are you, really?” Si Chen finally asked again, unable to resist.

The woman sat across from her with arms folded. “To be honest, I’m a fugitive. I got injured fighting a strong opponent, fell into the sea, and you pulled me out.”

Si Chen wasn’t surprised.

She’d seen Xian Mountain officers buzzing around Yingzhou like flies lately—clearly hunting someone.

The woman had a soldier’s build.

Seeing Si Chen’s calm face, the woman smiled. “You’re not afraid?”

Si Chen blinked. “So what if you are a fugitive? I was ready to die. Even if Yingzhou flipped upside down, it wouldn’t affect me.”

She added wistfully, “I wish you were my family.”

“Why’s that?”

“I’ve been a slave since birth. I’ve never known my parents, never had anyone. I hate them for abandoning me here, vanishing without a trace.”

As she spoke, she remembered the boatwoman who falsely accused her—Though hateful, she had done it to protect her child.

If I had a mother, Si Chen thought, would she have protected me like that, too?

A chill wind slipped through the planks, making her shiver.

She suddenly wanted to cry.

Curling up, hugging her knees into a ball, she choked out,

“No one’s ever cared about me… I want to die. I don’t know how long I’ll have to wait for someone to save Yingzhou…I don’t know when I’ll get to sit by a fire every day…”

The woman abruptly cut her off, her tone solemn:

“You don’t need someone else to save you. What’s the point in waiting? You have to save others yourself!”

Her words fell heavy and solid.

Si Chen froze.

The woman sat like a towering mountain, making it hard to breathe.

Sichen wanted to say it was impossible—but when she looked at the woman, when she remembered that figure hauling firewood through wind and rain, doing the impossible, a strange courage suddenly stirred in her heart.

Still uneasy, she turned her head and muttered,

“I don’t want to save anyone. The slaves of Yingzhou are all selfish—every one of them just trying to save themselves.”

“There are good and bad among slaves too. Every slave in Yingzhou is like a single twig—easy to break alone, but together, they can make a mighty fire.”

The woman held out her arm.

“Look—I’m a slave too.”

Si Chen looked and saw a brand on her arm—an eagle brand.

The woman had once been a military officer of Yingzhou.

Si Chen showed her own brand too, on her arm—a bird, less majestic than the eagle, strange and unique. She had never seen another slave with one like it.

Their arms pressed together.

Si Chen felt warmth stir under her skin.

The woman grinned, her smile radiant like fireworks.

“If there’s no one you want to save—then save me!”

Si Chen blinked, confused by the words.

The woman encouraged her:

“Look—I’m a slave too, and I want a better life. Just say it’s to save me. Don’t you want to try?”

For some reason, Si Chen’s heart wavered.

“But I—we barely know each other…”

“Even so, you still pulled me from the sea, and since then, you haven’t tried to die again. Why is that?”

Sichen turned her face away and mumbled,

“Because… I was worried. You were still hurt. How could I leave you alone and go off to die?”

The woman laughed.

“You don’t want to die anymore. See? As long as you care for someone, you can survive even the worst of times. Even driftwood can spark a flame someday. And one day, we’ll make sure Yingzhou is no longer our prison.”

She patted Si Chen’s shoulder.

“Live on! I’ll teach you how to fight. Soon, no one will be able to hurt you. Not only that—you’ll be able to fight evil and help others. Not just me—you’ll save many more people.”

Si Chen listened, stunned.

She never imagined that in that pitch-black stormy night, the moment she chose not to drown but to save the woman—her entire life would begin to change.

The rain pattered, the waves roared like drums—like a grand song being played.

The woman stood, her smile bright and proud, and reached out her hand.

This time, Si Chen did not flinch.

She took that fiery hand and gripped it tightly.

————

The days slipped by like a mouse stealing oil—quiet and unnoticed.

Si Chen trained every day with the woman, learning formidable martial arts.

The woman’s martial arts were as deep as an abyss, and when she moved, she was like a fierce tiger. Each sweep of her long legs struck like the lash of a tiger’s tail. Sichen studied this skill with relentless focus, and over time her body grew strong and firm. When she walked the streets, her head was high with pride—even if some ruffian tried to curse or provoke her, she no longer feared them.

After a few days of rest, the woman vanished again.

She came and went like a whirlwind.

Sometimes, she stopped by to visit.

She wore fine clothes—lambskin deel, a grand open-chested leather cloak. She clearly came from a high background.

When she came, she’d correct Si Chen’s movements—and with just a few tips, Si Chen would improve dramatically.

Occasionally, when Si Chen spotted her arrival, she noticed strange boats hovering nearby—vagrants peering toward the boat.

Nervously, she said,

“Some shady guys are watching… Are they after your leathers?”

The woman laughed. “No worries—they’re my people.”

“With your skills and followers… you must be a pirate?”

The woman patted her head and laughed.

“I’m something greater than a pirate.”

Word of Si Chen’s fighting skills spread, and how she beat the street punks to a pulp.

The porter boy Yan Xin was thrilled.

“If you can fight, you don’t have to be a towgirl anymore. Come work in the border army with me.”

Si Chen didn’t answer.

Every time she saw Yan Xin, she turned her head with a huff—

She still resented him for turning her into the jinx everyone hated.

Life seemed calm, smooth.

Si Chen thought her fate had turned around—That after hitting rock bottom, everything now led uphill.

But she was wrong.

The Xian Mountain officers came knocking.

She had half-expected it.

After all, a woman like that—fierce even when wounded, seen at sea in a storm—could not be ordinary.

That morning, Si Chen had just stepped onto the floating bridge to tow lines below Qingyu Gao Mountain when a dark crowd swept in, blocking her path.

At their head stood a burly soldier with a scarred face, flesh twitching with menace.

Without ceremony, he slapped a hemp paper into her arms.

“Stop. Have you seen this person?”

Si Chen nearly fell.

Looking at the paper, shock overtook her.

It was a wanted poster—featuring the face of the woman she had saved.

And the name printed on it was—Yu Jue Guard.

Si Chen’s heart leapt wildly.

But she kept her face blank and said, “Who’s that?”

The soldier sneered. “Still playing dumb? The Xian Mountain Lord has eyes everywhere in Yingzhou. Nothing escapes him.”

“I really don’t know her!”

“Then tell me—Aunt Xiang says she saw a woman enter your house lately. Who was it?”

“That was my mother.”

The soldier exploded with curses.

“Bullshit! You little jinx—if you had parents, you’d have killed them already!”

Si Chen suddenly realized—the officers were surrounding her.

So many for a simple question?

No, this wasn’t a search.

It was an execution.

Amid the chaotic shouts, she heard someone say faintly—

“Hurry. The Xian Mountain Lord is coming.”

“Don’t waste time here—word is the Yu Jue Guard was sighted near Qingwei Bridge. Let’s move!”

From a distance, screams and the sounds of things toppling could be heard. Half the sky had taken on a brilliant, fiery hue—somewhere, a reed boat was burning.

Si Chen stood frozen when a soldier shoved her hard. Someone else said, “This girl’s in league with the Yu Jue Guard. No need for questioning—kill her now.”

At once, the Xian Mountain officers drew their ring-hilted blades and lunged toward her.

The glint of steel wove into a tight net.

Si Chen darted left and right like a trapped bee. Though she dodged every blow, she couldn’t hold out forever—fists were no match for many blades.

As one sword came slashing toward her, a figure suddenly shot in from the side, sweeping with her legs like giant scissors and felling a group of officers in a single strike.

Si Chen felt herself lifted into the air. The figure moved swiftly, bounding like a dragonfly to the roof, and in moments had shaken the pursuers behind.

The sky blazed red like burning coals. Somewhere, the sound of battle had erupted—shouts, weapons clashing, screaming, the crashing of wood. Yingzhou had become chaos.

Only then did Si Chen realize—something monumental was happening.

She looked down and saw the person carrying her was wearing a bronze mask. The face was hidden, but she knew who it was.

“Yu Jue²Yu Jue ancient jade ornament shaped like an incomplete circle Guard…” Si Chen called faintly.

The woman turned her head—it was indeed the powerful woman Si Chen had rescued from the sea.

She smiled. “So you’ve figured it out? Honestly, I’ve never liked that name. I’ve got a temper. Doesn’t suit such a delicate title.”

“What’s going on?” Si Chen asked.

“I was fighting another Xian Mountain Guard. Lost to him last time. If not for you, I wouldn’t be here today to challenge him again.” She smiled—But the next instant, her expression changed, like she’d seen a nightmare closing in. She muttered,

“I’m taking you somewhere safe—out of the battle’s reach!”

Still dazed, Si Chen suddenly heard a thunderous rumbling.

The Ming Sea surged, the floating bridge swayed, boats scattered like ants.

The fire drew closer—heavy footsteps echoed from afar.

Who was it?

Just walking caused such earth-shaking noise?

Panic gripped Si Chen’s heart.

The woman leapt down from the roof and found an old bamboo boat. She shoved open the door and pushed Si Chen inside.

Someone was already there—a face Si Chen knew.

It was Yan Xin, the porter boy.

When he saw the woman, he saluted, “Yu Jue Guard.”

She said shortly, “Take her and leave. No matter what happens—do not let her leave this boat.”

Si Chen, still confused, realized this was an urgent crisis.

The booming footsteps grew louder, like a drum announcing death.

She turned to Yan Xin. “You two… know each other?”

He nodded. “Yes. I serve the Yu Jue Guard. She says you’re gifted, and with guidance, you’ll rise above Yingzhou’s mire. She’s determined to protect you.”

The woman smiled.

“Go. The further from here, the better. The Xian Mountain Guard is coming. If I can take his head today, the storm over Yingzhou may finally lift. Then none of us will be slaves again—we’ll live openly in this land.”

Si Chen was speechless.

She had heard legends about the Yu Jue Guard—A fearless woman wielding a red-bronze fire-dragon spear, the one beacon of hope among the slaves.

Only she, people said, could tear apart the darkness ruling Yingzhou.

But Si Chen knew the woman was no god—she had a mortal body that bled and a hunger like anyone else.

As she turned to return to the fire and face the Xian Mountain Guard, the flames roared like silken banners fluttering in terror.

Si Chen heard terrible screams from the floating bridge.

That thunderous footstep came closer still—and though no man had yet appeared, blood had already spilled in a line before him.

Limbs flew. A chilling old voice laughed:

“Yu Jue Guard, where are you? You slipped through my fingers once—shall we begin our second duel?”

Terror rose in Si Chen.

She sensed this was not someone the woman could defeat.

She remembered the horrible wounds she’d seen on the woman’s body when she first pulled her from the sea—Only someone terrifying could have dealt those blows.

The Yu Jue Guard ranked ninth among the Xian Mountain elite.

Number ten, the Yu Yin Guard, was within the borders—but most others outranked her.

She’s going to die.

The thought burst from its shell like a newborn chick.

Si Chen reached out and seized the woman’s sleeve.

“What is it?” the woman turned, smiling.

Si Chen’s throat tightened. Finally, she whispered,

“Don’t… don’t go. If you do… you’ll die.”

The footsteps pounded like bells of death.

The waves howled, the flames soared, and Yingzhou seemed stripped of its bright shell—revealing its brutal core.

Si Chen choked on her words.

Was she truly a jinx, as the Ruyi Guard had claimed?

Did everyone close to her end up in ruin?

Would this woman—who had brought her peace—also be taken away?

The woman beamed and patted her head.

“So what if I die? I should’ve died last time. You’re the one who saved me.”

Then she embraced Si Chen.

It was like falling into a furnace—warm and solid.

For the first time in her life, someone held her like this.

Tears streamed down her face, soaking her clothes.

The woman whispered by her ear:

“You’re right. We barely know each other. I’m not your mother, not your kin. But you gave up death to save me—And now, I’ll give up life to repay you. The fire of Yingzhou will burn again. If I fall today, I hope you will be the one to light it next, Si Chen.”

She let go and looked deeply into the girl’s face—This thin, stubborn girl, like wild grass.

“You really do look like me… back when I was little.”

Si Chen stood stunned as the woman turned and walked toward the flames.

She wanted to shout—but Yan Xin pulled her inside the boat.

The cabin door slammed shut.

The shadow outside flickered behind the oiled paper window—Now all the world beyond became a shadow play.

She could only watch from the dark, unable to take the stage.

She saw a giant figure approach the bridge.

She heard an old, bloodthirsty voice:

“Yu Jue Guard, if you hadn’t kept visiting that girl, I’d never have found you.”

Yu Jue Guard laughed.

“Old bastard, I’ve never hidden. Been wanting to wring your neck for ages.”

Si Chen heard a thunderclap—that was the two titans stamping the bridge until the wood cracked.

She heard the whistling wind—that was their weapons clashing.

Two shadows danced—splitting, colliding, and splitting again.

The boat shook as if ready to split apart.

The duel between these warriors could shatter buildings.

Si Chen trembled.

Yan Xin’s hand on her arm was soaked in cold sweat.

Suddenly—silence.

She stared at the window—

The play was ending.

Blood splashed like spring blossoms across the paper.

The woman’s body fell—cut in two.

It was as if a fist had smashed through her chest and left a gaping hole.

Si Chen trembled uncontrollably, unable to scream.

Then came a thunder of voices outside:

“Yu Jue Guard is dead!”

Her opponent walked away, heavy steps fading.

The threat was gone.

But inside, anger, sorrow, and grief twisted together.

Si Chen sat blankly through the noise until a knock rattled the boat door.

“Who’s inside?” a Xian Mountain officer shouted.

Yan Xin rushed to open it. “Just a porter, delivering grain to the Fenglin ship.”

He held out his badge.

He was one of Yu Jue Guard’s hidden operatives—unknown to most.

The officer glanced at Sichen, who sat in a daze by the window.

“Who’s she?”

“My little sister. She’s… not quite right in the head. I keep her with me for safety.”

They left.

Yan Xin came over.

Si Chen turned away, ready to curse him as a traitor—But saw his face wet with tears, glimmering in the moonlight.

He was just a boy, too.

Suddenly, she seized his arm, grabbed his hand, and wiped her tears on it as she sobbed aloud.

Tonight, she had seen the fire of Yingzhou doused by cold rain.

Who knew when it would burn again?

Yan Xin held her close, also weeping.

He patted her back gently and whispered,

“Don’t cry. Come to the Lei Ze Camp with me.

Yu Jue Guard told me your name—Si Chen. Si Chen means rooster—you’re someone who brings the light³ Si Chen: to announce the morning” or “to act as the herald of dawn.” Original line “司晨便是雞” — “Sichen means rooster,” roosters —creatures who fulfill the duty of announcing dawn. .”

The night rain poured down.

The bamboo boat rocked, alone in the sea.

Boy and girl clung to each other tightly.

And the seed of fire was quietly planted within them.

Yan Xin, tears flowing, said with unwavering certainty:

“One day, the skies over Yingzhou will clear.”

• 1
  traditional Chinese herbal powder made from the dried root of the Baizhi plant, which is Angelica dahurica in Latin.
• 2
  Yu Jue ancient jade ornament shaped like an incomplete circle
• 3
  Si Chen: to announce the morning” or “to act as the herald of dawn.” Original line “司晨便是雞” — “Sichen means rooster,” roosters —creatures who fulfill the duty of announcing dawn.