Chapter 14: I

Beggars gathered around, unwilling to disperse, so soldiers emerged with clubs and struck them directly; the beggars then scattered in all directions.

The child hidden among the beggars ran with the adults, his face filled with the terror of being abandoned.

They could still survive in the city, but in the wilds, they would have to compete not only with people for resources but also with beasts.

Pan Yun stood quietly among the crowd, watching for a long time until the people dispersed and the beggars had run far away; only then did she turn and walk west.

A small beggar, about three or four years old, lay sprawled on the ground—he was the one left behind; after being knocked down repeatedly, he hadn’t gotten up, but fortunately no one had stepped on him.

Otherwise, that tiny frame would have been crushed under a single footstep.

Pan Yun walked past him without glancing aside, heading from outside the city to the north; she didn’t know if it would take a full day, but she’d have to ask someone later for directions to Datong.

She couldn’t enter the city, so she couldn’t rent a cart or hitch a ride; relying solely on her feet, she had no idea how long it would take to reach Datong, so she still needed a way to get into a city—ideally, a forged travel permit would help… no, she was too young, a permit would draw too much attention—a forged household registration would be better…

She thought of many things, but when she caught sight of him grabbing a handful of dirt and shoving it into his mouth, she couldn’t help but stop.

She paused only an instant before turning back, grabbing the child lying on the ground, brushing the dirt off his hands, lifting his tattered clothes with a look of disgust to wipe the dirt and pebbles from his mouth, then picking him up and walking off.

The child kicked and struggled briefly, but likely too hungry to have strength; soon he went still.

Carrying him far away, once the people by the city gate were out of sight, she set him down and pulled a steamed bun from her paper bag.

The child froze for a moment, then snatched it quickly and bit into it.

Pan Yun sat on the grass beside him, watching him eat, while the black cat mewed in her arms: “Why are you giving him a bun?”

【Because I’m kind.】 Pan Yun watched the child, waiting until he finished the bun without choking, then stood and walked away.

The child froze, then quickly grabbed her sleeve.

Pan Yun turned to look at him and said: “I can’t take you with me. Go beg in a larger village or town—luckily, you might find a good family to take you in; then you’ll have a home.”

The child pointed at the city wall: “I know how to get inside.”

The child spoke clearly, nothing like a three- or four-year-old.

Pan Yun looked down at him, meeting his large eyes; after a moment’s silence, she asked: “How?”

Pan Xiaohei chuckled in her mind: 【Walk through the city gate.】

Unexpectedly, the child led them along the city wall; gradually, shrubs and weeds separated them from the wall, moving them farther away from it…

Just as Pan Yun was about to lose patience, the child stopped, compared a few nearby trees, chose two, and dove headfirst into the grass.

Pan Yun: …

The child crawled through with his body, flattening the weeds beneath him, vanishing into the thick grass.

“Here!” came the child’s happy voice.

Pan Yun crawled in and saw a hole at the base of the wall—not large, just barely wide enough for a thin person to squeeze through.

Above and to either side were weeds and vines; Pan Yun couldn’t stand upright, so she simply placed the black cat on her shoulder and crawled through.

Pan Xiaohei: “Meow, it’s a dog hole.”

Pan Yun ignored it, examining the hole’s edges closely, then shook her head: “No, this was dug by humans.”

The child, seeing her follow, scrambled inside quickly and sat in the tunnel: “It’s warm here.”

Pan Yun crawled in after him; once he saw she’d followed, he hurried deeper, leading her out the other side.

This side was also overgrown with weeds; the hole’s entrance was covered by stacks of straw. She struggled to push aside the straw and crawled out, finding herself in a wasteland covered entirely in wild grass; not far away were fields, and farther still, scattered houses and vegetable plots.

Pan Yun glanced back at the hole hidden behind the straw piles, re-covered it, then took the child’s hand and walked away.

“How did you know there was a hole there?”

“Bad men brought me here. I hid, and they couldn’t find me.”

His words were jumbled; Pan Yun barely understood. She pulled the child a little farther away, crouched down, and faced him.

Her gaze moved from his eyes to his forehead, his features, his entire face.

She wasn’t skilled in physiognomy, but she knew the basics; before, the child had been too filthy, his hair a messy nest, obscuring his features.

Now, she pushed his hair back, revealing his forehead, then wiped his face with a silk cloth, uncovering delicate features.

The black cat lifted its neck, took one look, and meowed: “Good face.”

Pan Yun murmured: “Truly a good face—even I, a half-baked amateur, can see it.”

Someone with such a good face wasn’t born to become a beggar.

Her fingertip traced his eyebrows and eyes; pity—he seemed destined for an early death, noble-born but fated to die young.

Pan Yun let his hair fall back over his face, then scooped up more dirt and smeared it across his cheeks; the once-fair child became filthy again. The child accepted it well—he’d often been smeared with dirt by older siblings when he’d lived among beggars.

The child knew the county seat of Shexian far better than she did; he expertly led her left and right, quickly leaving the rural area behind and entering streets lined with shops and passersby.

But the child dared not go directly; he hid in an alley, peering around, then, when no one noticed, swiftly pulled Pan Yun across the street, moving through the shadows along alley walls.

Soon, he slipped into a narrow alley.

The alley was barely a meter wide—just a passage between two walls, barely wide enough for one person to pass.

Yet it was piled high with firewood, damp and cluttered; both households had small doors opening onto the alley, clearly using it as their own storage space.

Faint rustling came from the woodpile; the child slid in like a snake, and then Pan Yun heard a muffled voice: “Qie?”

“It’s me, it’s me, Brother Xiao Hua—Big Zhu was driven out.”

“You’re back? Did you eat a bun? I smell one.”

Pan Yun cleared her throat; the rustling in the woodpile stopped instantly. After a long pause, a tiny voice whispered: “Brother Xiao Hua, this is the sister who brought me back—she gave me a bun.”

The bun gave the other child boundless courage; the woodpile was pushed aside, and a small head popped out—smaller than she was.

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He spotted the paper bag in Pan Yun’s hand, slid out instantly, yanked the other child out too, and stood before her like an adult, bowing: “Thank you for bringing him back and giving him a bun. Good people are blessed—Heaven will surely protect you, Lady, granting you smooth fortune and lasting peace.”

Pan Yun pulled out a bun and gave it to him: “Who taught you that blessing?”

He snatched it quickly but didn’t eat; instead, he tucked it into his chest: “The old beggar taught the big beggars, the big beggars taught the little beggars—we must pray for those who show us kindness.”

Pan Yun’s mood lifted; she took two more buns from the bag, gave one to each child, took one for herself, and sat with them on some logs, chatting.

“Why are you the only one here?”

The child named Xiao Hua—actually called Xiao Hua—said: “I’m the only one who made it back. The others are hiding somewhere, maybe driven out of the city too.”

From Xiao Hua, she learned that a few days ago, government office runners had ordered all beggars to leave the county seat and not return for at least a month.

But no one took it seriously.

Where else could they beg if not in the county seat?

So no one left.

After several warnings, today, seeing they still hadn’t gone, the runners sent soldiers to drive every visible beggar out of the streets and searched their usual haunts—the ruined temples, the broken houses.

Xiao Hua was quick and agile; sensing trouble, he slipped into this alley.

The alley was deep; they’d never lived here, only hiding here when chased and with nowhere else to run.

There was plenty of firewood here—if they stayed quiet inside, they could always escape; over time, it became the children’s secret refuge, unknown even to the adult beggars.

Only because Pan Yun was the same age as them and generously shared buns did Xiao Hua tell her.

Pan Yun nodded, pointing at the child: “You call him Qie?”

“He says his name is Qie’er.”

The child beside him hurriedly corrected: “Qie’er—I’m Qie’er.”

“Yes, yes, you’re Qie Qie,” Xiao Hua nodded dismissively.

Though the sound was right, the child felt something was off; he looked at Pan Yun, wounded.

Pan Yun thought for a moment, then asked: “Do you know where he’s from?”

“He escaped from a human trafficker,” Xiao Hua said—it wasn’t a secret: “Before the New Year, the authorities caught traffickers near the wall hole; he slipped away in the chaos.”

“If he was kidnapped, why wasn’t he taken to the authorities? Through them, he might find his parents.”

Xiao Hua shook his head: “Old Man San took him there. He said there were people in the government looking for children, but they didn’t seem like they’d take him home properly, so they brought him back.”

He glanced at the child, then looked up at Pan Yun: “Lady, you’re a good person—would you take him? If you will, please take him with you.”

Pan Yun smiled and asked: “What if I won’t?”

Xiao Hua sighed: “If you won’t, I’ll take him. I’ve already found a new home. The Zhang family in Tongluo Alley has no son—they’ve always wanted to adopt me. I refused before, but now I can’t survive, so I’ll go be their son.”

He added: “If you won’t take him, I’ll take him as my younger brother. I’ll share half my food with him, and beg harder with Zhang Pa and Zhang Niang—they’ll surely agree.”

Pan Yun studied him closely; if she truly took this child to the Zhangs, they might not even want him anymore—after all, this Qie’er was prettier and younger than Xiao Hua.

If the Zhangs wanted only one son, they’d choose the younger, better-looking one.

But she didn’t say it aloud; instead, she smiled: “When he grows up, he’ll be deeply grateful to you.”

She glanced at the clueless child beside her and said: “I’ll take him.”

(End of Chapter)