>When it's about to be the Spring Equinox, the weather is still very cold.

As the sky was just beginning to lighten, a troop of horsemen galloped out of the Bei Cao Town post station. Five men in military uniforms, wearing thick hats and red scarves covering their faces, arrived in a whirlwind. They didn't even bother to slow down before jumping off their horses at the entrance.

"Five jugs of rice wine." a soldier shouted.

The gatekeeper, a soldier dozing at his post, was roused from his slumber. He emerged with a sullen air, the memory of his gambling losses still fresh in his mind: “There is no wine at the station. Where are your official letters of authorization?”

Before he could finish his words, he was spat in the face.

"No wine at the station? Did you drink it all? You little bastard, did you dare steal military supplies?" The soldier who dismounted grabbed the station master's collar. "I'll send you to jail right now."

The courier was not a coward. He screamed, "Send this old man to the big prison? Soldiers on important missions are not allowed to drink. You're the ones who should be sent to prison!"

The commotion startled the entire station, with many people peering out to see what was happening. The short and stout postmaster ran out of his house wrapped in a thick cotton coat.

>

"What's going on, what's going on?" he shouted, "You're all soldiers, speak civilly. Zhang Heizi, get out of here and clean up the kitchen."

This should be a new line.

He reprimanded the stable boy, and one of the four other soldiers who had been watching silently spoke up: "Qi Ge, why don't you go saddle the horses first? We need to eat and then hit the road. It's best to get the horses ready."

The two people who were huddled together like roosters finally separated.

The courier stepped forward, his gaze fixed on the person who had spoken. The man was tall, with a hat and headscarf covering his face, revealing only a pair of dark, piercing eyes.

"General," the messenger said, "The villagers are uncultured, don't bother with their ignorance. We have wine, it's homemade, and in this cold weather, it will help warm you all up."

But the man did not answer, looking at his companion: "Zhang Tou'er, what do you say?"

"Oh, this man isn't the leader?" The clerk hurriedly shifted his gaze to the companion beside him and added, "General, we're from a rural area. Our military supplies are meager. Please don't mind."

Let me know if you have any other text you'd like me to translate!

The military's rations are meager, and even alcohol is not included. At roadside inns, you have to pay extra for drinks, and for good food and wine as well.

This messenger is expressing goodwill. Let me know if you have more text you'd like translated!

That General Zhang nodded and said hello, taking out an official document.

>

Upon seeing the document, the postmaster's expression became even more solemn: "It seems to be an urgent message from a border county. Please come in, my lords! The meal will be ready soon."

Five people dismounted, with two going to pick out the horses and the others walking toward the hall.

"This." As they passed by the innkeeper, the first man to speak handed over a pouch of money. "We want good wine and good food, and we want it fast."

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The postmaster was surprised and hurriedly waved his hand: "General, no need, no need."

But that man was very strong and pushed back: "It's all on official business, no need to spend my own money."

The messenger was stunned, watching as the man walked away. He instinctively patted his money pouch—it was still full—.

"I thought he was just here to take advantage of things." A courier whispered, "Didn't expect him to be so generous."

>

The station master had seen his fair share of the world: "You're from the capital, serving in the army there? Not your average person," he said.

The station master chuckled and said, “If they weren't ordinary people, they wouldn't be doing such hard work.”

Let me know if you have any other text you'd like translated!

A messenger, that's a very hard job. Who with ability and family would do such a thing? And to go all the way to the border counties, even though there is no war now, skirmishes with Xiliang are constant, one could still be in danger going there.

The messenger threw money at him: “Only you understand, don’t you? Quickly go and serve well, or even without money or ability I can still take your dog's life.”

The messenger, upon receiving the money, was overjoyed and responded with a hearty "Yes!" This sum of money was enough to prepare good wine and food, and he would still have some left over for his hard work. People who do errands like this are always most enthusiastic about it.

The courier had left, and the sky was much brighter. The station master hadn't gone in to fawn over these travelers, as the courier had said, anyone who wasn't ordinary wouldn't do such a lowly job as a messenger. He could just serve good wine and good food, there was no need for other kinds of entertainment.

However, the messenger did not go back to sleep. He put his hand in his sleeve and went to the backyard.

The big red lantern hanging in the backyard of the small station was still lit, illuminating a thin figure who was sweeping noisily.

"Oh." The messenger hurried to say, "Afu, you're up so early."

>

The man called Ah Fu looked up and called out, "Master Xu."

The voice was crisp and clear, that of a young girl.

The postmaster waved his hand: "Don't be so polite, I'm nothing special."

The girl was about twelve or thirteen years old. She wore a poorly fitting cotton coat and skirt, her hair was messy, and she had a small face with twinkling eyes that were particularly endearing.

"My older sister is boiling water in the kitchen." She said timidly, with a hint of flattery, "I'm weak and can't carry the water, so I came to sweep the floor."

The station master smiled. "It's fine if you don't do anything, you eat so little, like a cat. The station won't miss your mouthful of food."

Ah Fu bowed his head and said: "If I'm given a mouthful of food, it's because Old Master Xu is merciful, not because I deserve to eat for free."

"Truly, the children of the poor understand things early," sighed the Yishi (official), saying, “Your chance has arrived."

Hearing this, Afu excitedly raised his head: "Is there a messenger going to Bian County?"

The stationmaster nodded. "Yes, a group of people just arrived."

Before the words were finished, Ah Fu threw down his broom and ran to the room next door, “Mother, Mother—”

The postal rider almost got hit on the foot by a broom, but he didn't care at all. He watched the little figure running away and shook his head with pity.

　　.....

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　　.....

As dawn broke, more and more people gathered in the station hall for breakfast. Most travelers ate simple meals on the go, but a large table near the back was laden with a feast.

“Out of the way.” A stablehand ran in from the kitchen, carrying a large bowl.

The steaming, spicy braised pork knuckle in the porcelain bowl swayed with every movement of the messenger, making one's mouth water. The aroma instantly filled the hall.

"Who is this big shot? Even the old drunkard has pulled out all the stops," a regular customer couldn't help but ask.

The old drunkard is the cook at the relay station. It is said that he used to be a cook in a large restaurant. When his nephew became an official and prosperous, he placed the elderly man in the relay station. He doesn't expect to make a living from this, and he puts no effort into cooking.

The stationmaster glared at the regular customer: “This isn't our inn's expense, it's the general who paid for a good meal himself.”

They were looking at the five people sitting over there, wondering if it was really true that they had so much money to spend. Could a soldier be this wealthy?

Those five men were now eating and drinking heartily, having taken off their hats and scarves. A few bowls of wine had gone down, making them sweat, and they even unbuttoned their cotton robes. Their appearance and demeanor were very ordinary soldiers, except for the youngest man sitting in the middle.

It's not quite accurate to call him a man, he's more like a young boy.

He was only seventeen or eighteen years old, a little thin, with his cotton robe open to reveal a blue shirt and a porcelain-white neck.

He held his wine cup aloft, tilting it slightly as he drank. His phoenix eyes drooped ever so slightly.

But after finishing the drink, he threw the wine cup onto the table and lifted his sleeve to wipe his mouth.

“Liu Ge, give me a bone to gnaw on,” he said.

He looked as if he hadn't eaten in days.

Everyone withdrew their gazes. The postures of these low-ranking soldiers were common sights at the station. They never knew where they'd gotten the money, whether stolen or won gambling. They spent it easily and carelessly.

Following the alluring aroma of the communal meal, people in the hall finished their hurried bites and set off on their journey.

The postmaster entered with a smile, behind him followed a dirty, half-grown boy who hung his head low.

"Several military lords," the stationmaster walked up to this table, raised his hand and bowed, "Is the wine and food satisfactory?"

This time, none of them had the ferocity at the door earlier. They all nodded: "Good, good." "The County Magistrate has put thought into this."

The station master smiled and said, “In the countryside, this is all we have. Thank you, gentlemen soldiers, for not finding it too shabby.”

Others said a few polite words. The young man with phoenix eyes glanced at the postal officer and then at the half-grown child behind him, raised his wine cup, and drank silently.

"General, there's something I would like to ask for your help with." After the greetings, the messenger stated his intention, pointing behind him, "This child is in trouble."

As soon as he finished speaking, the young boy knelt down with a thud and bowed his head.

"Please, good warrior," she pleaded. "Save us."

With just a few moves, blood had already seeped onto his forehead.

Several military lords were startled, and some got up to help him. The young man with phoenix eyes, who had been silently drinking, spoke first.

“Sir, we are just messengers. We are only responsible for delivering messages. We can't do anything else,” he said, not even glancing at the blood oozing from the pitiful child's wound. His voice was cold and indifferent. “Let alone saving a life.”

　　......

　　......

Good morning, everyone. It's been a while!

The new book has few words, so everyone should put it away first. Let's meet again in a month to truly enjoy it.

Let me know if you have any other text you'd like translated!