Chapter 1819 – A Change of Face
“Escape from disaster? Take the whole family north? Going to Beiyuan to avoid trouble is also…”
“Why didn’t he seek the Lord back then? Regardless, he could have found some shelter…”
Feng Zhen’s comments were clearly those of someone well-fed, unaware of the hunger of the struggling.
Jiang Pengji sighed, “Back when chaos broke out in Nansheng, in the aftermath of the Southern Barbarians’ troubles, war engulfed the entire region. It was obvious that Qingji couldn’t go back to Nansheng. To reach Zhong Zhao, he’d have to traverse several feudal lords’ territories, not to mention the countless bandits along the way. Surviving the journey to Zhong Zhao was already a gamble. Considering everything, the only option left was Beiyuan. Although life would be tough there, at least he wouldn’t have to worry about dying by the hands of bandits.”
Ma Xiu came from a decent background, with quite a bit of farmland. He was considered a wealthy landlord.
Even if he never achieved much in life, he could live comfortably, as his family was one of the better-off among the common folk.
But what good is wealth when the world descends into chaos? How many would take advantage of the turmoil to rob and plunder?
People like Ma Xiu were precisely the small and vulnerable targets the bandits loved—high reward, low risk; a quick score could last them for quite a while. It was only natural for Ma Xiu to pack up and flee north in such dire circumstances.
Feng Zhen sensed Jiang Pengji’s displeasure with his words and wisely chose to stay silent.
Qi Guanrang cast a sidelong glance at Feng Zhen. How old is this wastrel now, still so loose-lipped?
Regardless of how Ma Xiu fared or why he chose to flee north instead of seeking shelter with the Lord… he had once been a classmate of the Lord in her youth. Their old bond deserved some respect and consideration, without any inkling of sarcasm or derision.
Of course, Qi Guanrang believed that their Lord wouldn’t hold a grudge against Feng Zhen for a momentary slip of the tongue regarding Ma Xiu.
Still, the fewer conflicts, the better. Harmony between ruler and subjects must be maintained by both parties; Feng the wastrel ought to learn his lesson.
Jiang Pengji said, “Maybe he didn’t seek me because he preferred not to be a nuisance; that’s just his nature.”
Ma Xiu, whose courtesy name was Qingji.
In their youth, he studied at Langya Academy and was one of Jiang Pengji’s closer friends during her school days.
Compared to the others, Ma Xiu’s presence among their group was relatively low-key, often just going along passively, causing trouble only when he felt like it. He was naturally reticent; whenever he thought he could handle things himself, he wouldn’t trouble his friends.
Considering the timeline, when Ma Xiu fled north to escape disaster, Jiang Pengji had just taken over Xiangyang County, facing her own challenging beginnings.
Internally impoverished, her rudimentary team resembled a ragtag band, while externally, countless battles awaited—fighting this one, then that one. In those early years, she was either the one battling against others or fending off those who came to fight her, always seen as the underdog.
In such circumstances, with Ma Xiu’s moderate temperament, it was only natural for him to avoid getting involved and not add to Jiang Pengji’s troubles.
With today’s perspective, it may seem that Ma Xiu missed an opportunity by not throwing caution to the wind to help Jiang Pengji—if he had, he’d certainly have a place among the ministers today. But given the situation at the time, who could say Ma Xiu’s choice was wrong? No one could.
It wasn’t just Ma Xiu; the circumstances would lead the vast majority to make the same decision.
What puzzled her was—
After all these years of Jiang Pengji stabilizing Dongqing, hadn’t Ma Xiu heard anything?
The situation in Beiyuan remained undisturbed; there hadn’t been battles, yet the common people dying of starvation and freezing to death was no less than in war.
Only when Jiang Pengji led troops to Xue City, directing her sword at Beiyuan, did Ma Xiu finally flee north… that indeed made one ponder.
Qi Guanrang and Feng Zhen had clearly thought of this layer as well, though the latter, having just stepped on a landmine, could only let Qi Guanrang speak up.
“Does the Lord suspect that Ma Xiu might be a scout sent by Beiyuan?”
Jiang Pengji laughed, “Qingji is cautious and prefers to avoid danger, but he’s not foolish. What use is he as a front line soldier for Beiyuan? With things as they are, how long can Beiyuan contend with me? In the end, which side has the upper hand? He knows very well. Even if he truly is an agent of Beiyuan, he’s just coming to pledge allegiance to me, then stab Beiyuan in the back…”
Qi Guanrang shook his head disapprovingly.
“While your reasoning holds, my Lord, you should not be too trusting. The timing of Ma Xiu sneaking in among the refugees to reach us is a bit too perfect.”
Jiang Pengji smiled, “I know, these concerns will clear up once I see him.”
Smart people tend to complicate matters, and even Jiang Pengji wasn’t exempt.
When she finally saw Ma Xiu, all earlier plots and theories vanished, leaving only a sigh.
“Qingji?”
When Ma Xiu was brought in to see her, Jiang Pengji stared at his face for a long time, unable to find any trace of the youth from their past. Her throat caught, leaving her speechless. Ma Xiu wasn’t the oldest among them, but his current appearance resembled that of a man in his seventies; his once dark hair was nearly all white and disheveled.
Not just his hair—his skin was wrinkled and dry, marred by frosty cracks from years of enduring the cold.
He took a couple of unsteady steps forward, slowly bowing deeply.
It was clear he tried to do it properly, but his swollen hands and weak legs trembled uncontrollably.
Jiang Pengji suddenly rose to support him; his arms felt as frail as skin wrapped around bones, making her afraid to exert any strength.
“It’s been over ten years, how is Lan Ting?”
Ma Xiu weakly smiled, his voice hoarse and aged.
It was this familiar tone that rekindled a sense of nostalgia in Jiang Pengji.
“Lan Ting… perhaps you’re the only one still calling me that.” Jiang Pengji couldn’t help but chuckle bitterly; her name change had become common knowledge, yet Ma Xiu, hiding in Beiyuan, hadn’t heard the news and still called her by the old name.
Ma Xiu’s aged face showed a hint of awkwardness.
“…Addressing the Lord by her given name as a commoner… indeed lacks respect…”
Jiang Pengji said, “No, I’ve forsaken that name due to… some rather complicated reasons… it’s not about status.”
Ma Xiu didn’t pry further, opting for silence as he did back then.
When Lü Zheng heard the news, he hurried over, and upon seeing the frail old man, he could scarcely recognize Ma Xiu.
Ma Xiu was only seven or eight years older than Jiang Pengji, yet they now appeared more like a grandparent and grandchild.
What had Ma Xiu experienced over the years?
“Is that… Shaoyin?”
Ma Xiu scrutinized Lü Zheng for a while, but due to the latter standing a bit farther away, his vision wasn’t clear, and it took him a moment to recognize him.
“…Yes…”
Ma Xiu weakly grinned, “It’s been many years since we last met; you remain much the same as before.”
