The next day, they went to the Left Chancellor's residence for another meal.
The Left Chancellor's wife held Guaizai the entire time and wept bitterly. If Guaizai hadn't been lying horizontally in her lap, Fang Zichen would have thought his son had passed away, given how hard she was crying. The Left Chancellor and his eldest son stood by, giving Fang Zichen advice, telling him to stay grounded once he reached his post, not to get carried away, and to do his best to guard Hezhou well for the Emperor.
The day after that, colleagues invited him out again. The end of the month was a busy time for farewell dinners. On the thirtieth, Fang Zichen officially set out with his fulang and children.
They carried a lot of things—enough to fill eight carriages. Xia Jinghong had given them one large carriage, spacious and roomy. Fang Zichen made large wheels to replace the old ones—since rubber was scarce, he only made six.
These wheels had good shock absorption. Physician Li and Feng momo were both getting on in years, and Fang Zichen was afraid they'd be crippled by the bumpy journey. So he also replaced the wheels on Physician Li's carriage and Feng momo's.
Fang Zichen didn't know how to drive a carriage, and Li Yisheng didn't either, so they had to hire an escort from a martial arts guild to see them through.
At the city gate, someone called out for Guaizai—it was several princes, along with the sons of the Minister of Rites and the Right Chancellor.
Zhao Ger had the carriage stopped, and Guaizai jumped down. He and his little friends had grown very close over the past few months, having gone through thick and thin together, having gone through life-and-death adventures together in the palace. Their bond was solid. Now they hugged each other and sobbed, snot and tears flowing freely.
"Guaizai, you have to come back alive!"
"My father says Hezhou is very dangerous. Guaizai, you must be careful—don't let anyone beat you crippled!"
"We'll wait for you to come back so we can ride bicycles together."
The Fourth Prince held Guaizai's hand, his voice heavy with dejection: "Guaizai, can you not go? I don't want you to leave."
Guaizai sniffled, equally reluctant to part: "Guaizai has to go protect Father. Without Guaizai to look after him, he won't manage, oh!"
The Right Chancellor's son, having spent a lot of time with Guaizai, had learned a thing or two, and now said, "Guaizai's right. Uncle Fang looks like a little white face—he really doesn't seem up to it. They say scholars can't even lift a knife besides reading and writing essays. Guaizai is tough. Without Guaizai, once Uncle Fang gets to Hezhou and someone throws a punch at him, we'd probably have to rush over to his funeral feast."
[小白臉 (xiǎo bái liǎn): lit. Little white face; fig. A young, fair-skinned man seen as relying on looks rather than real ability, often with derogatory overtones of being effeminate or kept by a woman.]
Fang Zichen overheard a few remarks from inside the carriage and was immediately itching to jump out and beat them senseless—to show off his prowess, make them howl in pain, and teach them a lesson about who they were messing with.
Damn it all, they can call me anything they want, but they have the nerve to call me a little white face!
Zhao Ger grabbed his arm, holding him back, laughing so hard his stomach ached.
Behind the several princes rode a squadron of cavalry. The one in front dismounted, walked up to Fang Zichen's carriage, and clasped his fists in salute.
"Lord Fang."
The voice sounded familiar. Fang Zichen lifted the carriage curtain and poked his head out. "Oh! Aren't you that fellow who serves by His Majesty's side—the one who, uh... what's-his-name?"
This man was one of the Emperor's personal bodyguards, armed with a sword and always stationed just outside the Imperial Study.
"Reporting to you, my lord. This humble subordinate's surname is Zhang, given name Quan."
"Did His Majesty send you here on business?"
"His Majesty has ordered me and my men to accompany Lord Fang to Hezhou. During the journey, we are to follow Lord Fang's commands without question."
Fang Zichen suddenly remembered this arrangement. Xia Jinghong had indeed assigned thirty men to him—mounted on horses and clearly well-trained fighters.
Fang Zichen felt relieved.
Damn right. Now let's see who dares lay a finger on me.
The Zhao family had already seen them off yesterday, so no one was there today. Since merchants frequently traveled in and out of the capital, the convoy didn't draw much attention.
Guaizai climbed back into the carriage looking unhappy. Zhao Ger picked him up, took out some steamed buns, and handed them over. Guaizai sniffled, ate two buns, and finally perked up a little.
Only after the convoy had completely vanished from the city gates did Zhao Yunyue and Zhao Yunlan step out from the corner.
"Fourth brother is gone."
"Mm! Let's head back."
With Fang Zichen and Li Yisheng both gone, Zhao Yunyue felt an emptiness in his heart.
Zhao Ger lifted the carriage curtain and looked back. The city gates grew smaller and smaller in the distance. Fang Zichen leaned over without a word and simply put an arm around his shoulder.
His home wasn't here anyway, so it didn't matter to him where he went. But Zhao Ger was different—he had dreamed of going home for over a decade. The Zhao family had treated him well; the two carts in the rear were packed with supplies prepared by Shi Nianqi and Second Sister-in-Law Zhao. Everyone knew how impoverished Hezhou was. Though they had never been there, they worried it would be like some backward village with nothing at all—no food, no clothes, no daily necessities—so they prepared everything. The other two carts were gifts from the Meng family.
"Zhao Ger, if you ever—"
Zhao Ger knew what he was about to say and cut him off at once: "Wherever you go, I go. I'll miss Dad and my brothers and sisters-in-law, but you are the most important."
Fang Zichen said nothing more, only pulled him into a tighter embrace.
The carriage was fully enclosed, so they couldn't burn charcoal inside—if they did, they'd have to lift the curtains for ventilation, but the carriage moved fast and the wind was fierce. Instead, they spread thick quilts over the floor of the carriage and wrapped themselves up tightly, which kept them warm enough.
At first, Zhao Ger worried that the two babies might not adjust and would fuss. But with Guaizai and Xiao Feng constantly playing with them, they never cried. The official road wasn't very even, but because they had put on bigger wheels and added thick cushioning underneath, the ride was fairly smooth and not too jarring.
Physician Li sat comfortably. "This wheel design of Young Fang's is excellent! This old bones of mine have been traveling for two days and I don't feel a bit of soreness."
Last time he went to a mansion outside the capital to treat a nobleman, the round trip left him aching everywhere—which was precisely why he had been so eager to return to his hometown. If he waited any longer, the journey would only get harder with age.
He had originally hired a few armed escorts, and their several large carriages were quite conspicuous. Physician Li had worried about attracting bandits. But now, with the Imperial Guard sent by Xia Jinghong clearing the way ahead—tall, sturdy men with grim, imposing expressions—he was no longer afraid of anything.
The two wet nurses they had hired earlier were from the capital and naturally wouldn't follow them. Zhao Ger had no choice but to bring powdered milk.
According to historical records, powdered milk was supposedly invented by Genghis Khan. Fang Zichen hadn't expected Da Xia to have it too, though it wasn't as refined as the modern version—here, it was quite coarse, simply made by drying out the moisture.
The convoy also brought two milk cows and some rice gruel, alternating between these to feed the babies.
The river was frozen solid, so they had to travel entirely by carriage.
Fang Zichen rode alongside Zhang Quan and the others on horseback. The carriage given by Xia Jinghong was large, pulled by two horses, and rode steady and smooth. Xie Xiaoyu often popped over to play with the babies, but sometimes, in the middle of playing, he would fall silent with a wistful look.
Zhao Ger knew what was on his mind.
Li Yisheng was an only son. He himself wasn't anxious, but his parents certainly were. The Xie family was of high standing, so the elders didn't dare press openly, but even their most carefully phrased letters carried a hint of urging. The couple had been married for nearly three years with no sign of a child. Mother Li worried that her son's health wasn't quite right, so she kept dropping hints that he should stay home and rest instead of running around all over the place. Li Yisheng earned enough silver to support himself, but Xie Xiaoyu could never stay still. Back and forth, the issue had become a source of frustration.
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