THE CRY OF QINGHE
868 Words
The Imperial City disappeared behind the distant mountains.
For three days, Prince Zhao Yun and his small escort traveled westward. They crossed rushing rivers on ancient stone bridges, passed through forests of towering pines, and rode beneath endless skies where flocks of cranes soared gracefully overhead.
Unlike the other princes, Zhao Yun refused to rush his journey.
Whenever they entered a village, he stopped to speak with the people.
He asked farmers about their harvests, merchants about trade, and travelers about the condition of the roads. Instead of sitting inside his carriage, he often rode beside ordinary soldiers, listening more than he spoke.
Captain Lu Feng admired the prince's humility but could not hide his concern.
"Your Highness," he said one afternoon, "if we continue stopping in every village, we will arrive in Qinghe several days late."
Zhao Yun smiled.
"The Emperor did not send me to race against my brothers."
"He sent me to understand the people."
Lu Feng bowed.
"You speak wisely, Your Highness."
---
As the sun began to set, the procession approached a small mountain village.
Something immediately felt wrong.
The houses were silent.
Smoke rose from several burned cottages.
Broken carts lay abandoned beside the road.
Not a single child could be seen playing outside.
Zhao Yun dismounted.
"Stay alert."
The guards spread out through the village.
Suddenly, a frightened little girl ran from behind a ruined house and threw herself at Zhao Yun's feet.
"Please... save my father!"
Her face was stained with tears and ash.
Before Zhao Yun could answer, an elderly woman hurried after the child.
"Forgive her, Young Master," she said, not realizing she was speaking to a prince. "We have no right to trouble travelers."
Zhao Yun gently helped both of them stand.
"What happened here?"
The old woman hesitated.
Then tears filled her eyes.
"Tax collectors came three days ago."
"They demanded more silver than anyone could pay."
"When the villagers begged for mercy..."
She looked toward the burned houses.
"They burned our homes to make an example of us."
The prince's expression darkened.
"Who gave such an order?"
"The governor's steward."
Captain Lu Feng clenched his fists.
"No official of the Great Tian Empire has the authority to treat the people this way."
---
Following the old woman, Zhao Yun entered a small cottage.
Inside lay an injured farmer with a deep wound across his shoulder.
Several villagers surrounded him helplessly.
At that moment, another voice spoke calmly.
"Move aside."
A young woman carrying a wooden medicine chest stepped through the doorway.
She wore plain blue robes, and her long black hair was tied neatly behind her head.
Without wasting a moment, she knelt beside the injured farmer.
She cleaned the wound with warm water, applied crushed herbs, and carefully wrapped it with fresh bandages.
Her movements were steady and confident.
The frightened villagers gradually relaxed.
After a few moments, the farmer's breathing became calmer.
"He will recover," the young woman said.
A sigh of relief spread through the room.
Zhao Yun watched quietly.
"You are a physician?"
She looked at him for the first time.
"I am Mei Lian."
"I travel from village to village treating those who cannot afford medicine."
The old woman smiled.
"Miss Mei has saved many lives."
Mei Lian shook her head modestly.
"I only do what I can."
---
Outside the cottage, Zhao Yun and Mei Lian walked through the ruined village.
"The people fear their own officials," Zhao Yun said.
"They no longer believe justice exists."
Mei Lian glanced at him.
"Many officials care only about pleasing their superiors."
"They forget that the empire stands because of its people."
Her words lingered in Zhao Yun's heart.
For the first time since leaving the capital, he met someone who spoke with complete honesty.
---
As darkness fell, the prince ordered his soldiers to distribute food from their own supplies.
Rice, dried meat, and blankets were given to every family.
The villagers knelt in gratitude.
One old man asked quietly,
"Young Master... may we know your name?"
Zhao Yun smiled gently.
"I am only a traveler."
He did not reveal his identity.
He wanted their gratitude to belong to kindness—not to a title.
From a nearby rooftop, a pair of cold eyes watched everything.
A man dressed as a merchant lowered his hood.
"So..."
"The Fourth Prince chooses the hearts of the people instead of power."
He disappeared into the forest before anyone noticed him.
---
Late that night, Zhao Yun stood alone outside the village.
The stars shone brightly above the mountains.
Footsteps approached behind him.
It was Mei Lian.
"You should rest," she said.
"So should you."
She smiled faintly.
"There will always be another patient tomorrow."
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
The peaceful silence was suddenly shattered by the distant sound of galloping horses.
Captain Lu Feng rushed toward them.
"Your Highness!"
"Scouts report fifty armed riders approaching the village."
"They carry no imperial banners."
"And they are coming fast."
Zhao Yun instinctively rested his hand on the hilt of his sword.
The peaceful journey to Qinghe had come to an end.
Somewhere beyond the darkness, an unseen enemy was finally making its move.
- Writer
