Volume One: Flames at the Border Chapter Three: The Maiden Deng’er

Lin Deng’er held the nameplate, turning it over in her hands. The oval-shaped tag was engraved with a military insignia, unit number, identifying information, along with numbers, letters, and a QR code. All of it seemed so novel and mysterious to her.

He Yu, his thoughts as lively as ever, was no longer in so much pain. Noticing Lin Deng’er gazing at the nameplate in fascination, he teased her, “Miss Deng’er, it’s a shame for this tag to be worn by me. It would suit you much better—so beautiful and full of poise.”

Lin Deng’er didn’t know what “poise” meant, but she understood “beautiful”—it was a compliment to her looks. Her heart fluttered with shyness and delight as she pondered, “What kind of young man is this southerner? Just a moment ago he was groaning about his pain, and now he’s speaking so… so wildly, yet how interesting he is! And I seem to enjoy listening to him as well… This is no good… Could it be that all people from the south are like this?”

During the Eastern Jin, while the separation between men and women was not as strict as in later generations, it was still somewhat improper for a strange young man to praise a young woman’s beauty upon first meeting. He Yu, well-read in history, was aware of this, but coming from the modern era with his quick and lively nature, he had forgotten himself. Luckily, a furtive glance showed Lin Deng’er only blushing, not offended. This reassured him greatly. To have crossed from the modern world into a time of chaos was misfortune enough; to meet such a lovely girl as Lin Deng’er was a rare stroke of luck.

As they spoke, the door curtain stirred and Lin Su entered, leading a short, thin, elderly man. The old man wore a wide robe with sleeves, carrying a small bamboo chest, three wisps of gray beard floating at his chest, giving him an air of an immortal sage. He Yu realized this must be the physician they’d summoned.

The old doctor’s collar revealed animal fur for warmth under his robe—his attire was much better than Lin Su’s. Evidently, in any era, physicians made a decent living.

He Yu made to rise and offer his respects.

The old man quickly reached out to stop him. “Young master, please lie still, no need for formalities. Let me check your pulse first.”

“Thank you for your trouble, sir,” He Yu replied.

The old doctor said nothing more, placing three fingers of his right hand on He Yu’s pulse point and closing his eyes, his breathing slow and steady as he began his diagnosis.

After several minutes, he withdrew his hand and exhaled deeply. “Young master, are you feeling any discomfort?”

He Yu answered honestly, “Earlier, my whole body was stiff and aching, but after eating and warming up, I’m much better. Only my chest still aches from time to time, and occasionally I taste blood in my throat.”

The old doctor nodded repeatedly, then turned to Lin Su and his granddaughter. “From the pulse, the young master’s energies are unsettled and his organs displaced—he must have suffered a heavy blow to the chest. If it were anyone else, I fear they would have died on the spot. But what puzzles me is that the young master’s life is in no danger, nor is there any sign of grave injury—with a few days of rest, he’ll recover completely. In all my years of practice, I’ve never seen such robust constitution!”

He Yu marveled inwardly. This old physician was truly skilled—not only did he diagnose his injury, but he also sensed his extraordinary strength as a special forces soldier. All those years of harsh training had not been in vain. Truly, the medicine of his homeland was profound and venerable.

The old doctor opened his medicine chest and took out several pills and powders. “Dissolve these in warm water and take them morning and night. Rest quietly for a few days and you’ll be well.”

Seeing that He Yu was not seriously ill, Lin Deng’er was overjoyed, her worries finally laid to rest. She didn’t know why she felt so drawn to this young master He Yu upon their first meeting; perhaps it was simply fate.

After the physician left, Lin Deng’er helped He Yu take his medicine. Soon after, he felt a soothing warmth in his chest—a comfort beyond words. He knew the medicine was exactly what he needed.

Lin Su and his granddaughter had braved wind and snow all day and had barely had time to finish their meal. Once He Yu was settled, Lin Deng’er brought in their dinner. Grandfather and granddaughter sat across from each other, eating noodle soup with just a small bowl of pickled vegetables between them. Yet they ate with relish; Lin Su occasionally sipped his wine with the pickles, content and pleased.

He Yu was deeply moved. “We are strangers, yet they saved my life and made egg custard to nourish me. That little bowl of custard is perhaps the most precious thing these two have to offer.”

After they finished, Lin Deng’er brought a large basin of warm water, helped He Yu wash, stoked the stove, and quietly left.

He Yu lay on his back, recalling the strange events of the day, his thoughts in turmoil, unable to sleep.

Outside, wind and snow raged; inside, the charcoal fire crackled. The soft pillow, the straw and bulrush in the bedding exuded the earthy scent of autumn, imbuing the room with a sense of home. At the thought of home, He Yu’s brows furrowed.

He Yu had come from a well-off family; both parents were highly educated but had divorced when he was small, using him as a pawn in their endless quarrels.

He grew up in the countryside with his grandparents, weathering the pity and scorn of others until he went to college and joined the army.

After his grandparents passed away, the word “home” meant little to him. He smiled bitterly. “So be it—no ties, no burdens. Living in this troubled world may not be such a bad thing after all.”

He awoke to bright daylight—the sun already high in the sky.

He sat up; his chest was far better, with scarcely any pain. Next to his pillow lay neatly folded clothes, patched in many places but freshly washed. They clearly belonged to old Lin Su and were now for him.

Lin Su was a tall man, similar in build to He Yu, so the clothes fit well enough. But the weather was cold and the pile of garments, all made of hemp, was only three layers thick—nothing like modern down jackets or cotton coats.

War raged constantly during the Eastern Jin; life for commoners was harsh. Many couldn’t keep warm or even eat their fill. These three layers might well have been all Lin Su could spare for him.

He Yu was deeply touched, a sense of mission welled up in his heart. “A man stands between heaven and earth—he should see that those who are good to him live well. He Yu, you can do it—you must do it,” he vowed to himself.

Now that his chest pain was almost gone and he could move freely, He Yu—once a special forces elite, used to braving wind and snow and sleeping rough—felt no fear of the cold despite his thin clothes.

He opened the door; sunlight poured in.

The snow had passed, the sky was clear, a gentle breeze drifted—it was a glorious day.

The courtyard was neatly swept; snow was piled by the fence. He Yu wandered the yard, taking in his surroundings.

There were three main rooms connected by a corridor under the eaves. Besides his own, one room was filled with farm tools and a family altar with thirteen ancestral tablets. The easternmost room held a bed, a table, a spinning wheel, two straw mats on the floor, and a brazier in the center. Beside the brazier was a bed made on the ground.

Lin Deng’er had given him her wooden bed, slept on her grandfather’s, while Lin Su slept on the floor.

Beyond the west room was a low shed with a stove and utensils, clearly the kitchen. Across the yard was a thatched chicken coop, with only one hen pecking about.

Even sheltered within the fort, the Lin family lived in such poverty—how much worse must it be for those outside? The so-called “refined life” of the Wei and Jin, it seemed, existed only among the elite.

He Yu walked through the corridor into the kitchen. The furnishings were simple: a low table, two wooden stools, a water jar. Pots and bowls were scrubbed clean and neatly arranged.

He was a little hungry. The stove was still warm. Lifting the lid, he found half a pot of millet porridge. Next to it was a small wooden strip, with a few lines of writing in charcoal: “You were still sleeping, I didn’t want to disturb you. The porridge is in the pot, please help yourself. Left by Deng’er.”

The handwriting was clumsy but earnest. Lin Deng’er could read and write—a remarkable thing for a commoner during the Eastern Jin, when education was reserved for the privileged.

The little courtyard was quiet; he was alone.

Lin Su had gone to the fort to burn charcoal. As for Lin Deng’er, where had she gone? She was nowhere to be seen.

He Yu felt a pang of loss. Taking a clay bowl from the shelf, he ladled out some porridge. As he stirred, a peeled egg floated up—clearly left for him to regain his strength.

With only one old hen in the coop, eggs must be precious. For this household, an egg was likely the very best they could offer.

Having already recovered after taking his medicine and eating egg custard yesterday, He Yu decided not to take the egg today.

He set it aside, took some porridge and pickled vegetables, and began to eat.

The porridge was just right—warm and fragrant. Having just recovered from serious injury, his appetite returned and the millet porridge was unspeakably satisfying.

After eating, he washed the bowl and spoon.

He Yu left the kitchen and stood in the courtyard, surveying the surrounding terrain.

The sun shone bright, glinting off the snow, making for excellent visibility. The Lin family’s courtyard was built on a hillside, slightly elevated. From here, much of the fort was visible.

The Chen Family Fort faced south, nestled among three mountains and ringed by high walls with four gates and watchtowers at each. The southern gate was the main entrance, guarded by a moat; the entire structure resembled a fortress.

By He Yu’s estimation, the fort covered more than four thousand acres—about the size of a university campus. Inside, the fields and houses were laid out in order, but with the snow, he couldn’t tell what crops were grown.