Chapter 26: The Most Beloved People

Li Yi instructed two squad leaders to take the remaining men and tidy up their new lodgings.

He, meanwhile, hurried straight to the Li family ancestral hall.

It was called an ancestral hall, but in truth it was merely two brick-and-wood rooms. The main chamber housed ancestral tablets, with some clay idols of deities and faint traces of incense smoke, but the offerings were sparse.

The other room served as a storeroom, recently cleared out.

Children carried long benches inside, laughing and playing noisily.

Yun Niang stood nervously at the doorway. When she saw Li Yi enter, she immediately looked at him with a pitiful expression.

“Yi, how can a woman like me teach school?” Her voice was full of grievance, her lips pouting. “Especially in the ancestral hall—everyone knows a woman entering the hall is subject to family discipline.”

“What’s wrong with being a woman? It’s just two shabby rooms. What’s there to be afraid of?”

Li Yi’s face showed nothing but indifference.

Yun Niang was left speechless, her gentle nature keeping her from arguing.

Li Yi grinned. “Enough, I understand your worries. With Great-grandfather’s word, no one will object. You just focus on teaching.”

Still uneasy, Yun Niang whispered, “I’m afraid I won’t be a good teacher. Maybe someone else—?”

“Who do you think could replace you?”

Yun Niang had nothing to say; no one else in the village was literate.

Li Yi reassured her, “Don’t worry. You focus on teaching them to read and write. Leave the rest to me.”

Despite his comfort, she remained hesitant.

Just then, Li Guo approached with a group of children.

“Teacher, their parents prepared a gift for you,” he said.

A thin child struggled to carry an oversized basket, which contained pickled vegetables, smoked bacon, and two bolts of hemp cloth.

Their faces were red from the cold, heads bowed, grimy and timid as they placed the basket before Yun Niang.

Then, all the children knelt together and bowed their heads to her.

Startled, Yun Niang hurried forward to lift each child up.

“My father said we must bow to the teacher,” one of the older boys explained quietly.

“Teacher, we pooled what we could. Please don’t mind if it’s not much,” a six- or seven-year-old child said timidly.

Yun Niang crouched down, clasped his frail hand, and spoke gently, “I don’t need your gifts. Just do your best to learn.”

“Teacher, we will. My mother said that once we can read, we won’t go hungry anymore.”

The children stared at the smoked meat in the basket, swallowing hard.

It had been a long time since any of them had tasted meat.

Yun Niang looked down at their hands, raw with chilblains, and tears shimmered in her eyes as she turned to Li Yi.

Li Yi let out a heavy sigh.

In times like these, even adults went hungry; how could the children fare any better?

These children wore tattered, patched clothes, shoes full of holes—hand-me-downs cut down from their parents’ garments.

“Li Guo, go ask Third Aunt Wang to cook a pot of hot porridge and bring it here. Then find some braziers for warmth.”

At the mention of hot porridge, the children’s stomachs grumbled audibly.

Yun Niang smiled as she led them into the classroom to begin the lesson.

With no books or writing supplies, the children sat on benches, watching intently as Yun Niang wrote characters on a wooden board.

She earnestly encouraged them in their studies and wrote the character for “person” on the board.

Holding it up, she explained its meaning and then demonstrated how to write it, stroke by stroke.

After several repetitions, she invited the children to try for themselves, gently correcting their mistakes.

Li Yi watched quietly for a while and realized he had underestimated Yun Niang.

The children, just starting school, were nervous and apprehensive.

Yun Niang began with simple characters, closely tied to their daily lives, making it easier for them to grasp.

Seeing all was well, Li Yi beckoned Li Guo outside.

“Besides your own studies, you must help your teacher maintain order.”

Li Guo puffed out his chest. “Don’t worry, Teacher. As long as I’m here, no one will make trouble.”

Li Yi ruffled his hair, laughing. “That’s a promise, then. If you fail, I won’t go easy on you.”

Li Guo grinned, “Will there be a reward if I do well?”

Li Yi kicked him playfully and scolded, “You’re quick to bargain! Get it done first, and we’ll see.”

Though the school was set up, there were still no tables, no books, not even ink or paper—all problems that fell to him.

Li Yi felt his head throb. He had taken on such a great task, but his silver would not last long.

Counting the days, the thirteenth of the twelfth lunar month was approaching. This time, he would have to take a risk.

He searched the village for some time before finding Li Zijing still brooding.

Earlier, when Goudan disobeyed orders, Li Yi had punished both Goudan and Li Zijing, leaving the latter quite displeased.

Li Yi plopped down beside him with a grin, “Brother, why are you hiding here? You were hard to find.”

Li Zijing fed the mule without looking up. “What does the squad leader want with me?”

Li Yi stretched lazily, smiling, “You’re still upset, aren’t you? Do you still think I shouldn’t have punished you?”

Li Zijing threw down the black beans in his hand and glared at Li Yi.

“Goudan was the one who disobeyed. Why punish me? Do you think I’m easy to bully?”

Li Yi asked, “If I hadn’t punished you, why do you think Goudan, stubborn as he is, suddenly obeyed you, stood where you told him, and helped keep the line in order?”

Li Zijing was taken aback.

Li Yi invited him to sit.

“We’re organizing militia drills; unity is essential. Goudan is under your command. If he errs, can you just watch as his leader? On the battlefield, blades and arrows fly unexpectedly—we must rely on each other. My aim is for everyone to truly work as one.”

Hearing this, Li Zijing understood his good intentions.

“Yi, I get it now. From now on, if my men make mistakes, I’ll accept the punishment myself,” Li Zijing declared.

Li Yi nodded, gratified.

He was thankful for Li Zijing’s help and didn’t want any rift between them.

He went on to share more of his experience in leading troops, which Li Zijing listened to with great interest, growing more confident in managing his men.

He marveled, “Yi, you used to just practice martial arts and farm. How is it you know so much now?”

Li Yi hesitated, grinning. “Maybe, as the villagers say, I’ve had a change of heart.”

Li Zijing scratched his head, wondering if a knock to the skull could really bring such luck, and whether he should try it himself.

“Brother, I actually came to ask a favor,” Li Yi said.

Li Zijing shot him a look. “I knew it—no one visits the temple for nothing. You must need something from me again.”

Li Yi blushed but blustered, “Who else should I ask but my own brother?”

Li Zijing sighed, “I’m really unlucky to have you as a brother. So, what is it this time?”

Li Yi quickly flattered him, “Everyone in the neighboring villages knows your carpentry is the best. Now that our militia is assembled, we have no weapons. I’d like you to make some wooden ones for training.”

Seeing it was a serious matter, Li Zijing didn’t refuse, thumping his chest. “Leave it to me. Whatever you need, I can make.”

Li Yi had already considered it and described the types of weapons he wanted.

For the more complicated ones, he even drew their shapes with charcoal on the ground.

Li Zijing studied the sketches. “These don’t look too difficult, but they’re unusual. Will they really work in a fight?”

Li Yi didn’t explain, only smiled mysteriously, “Once you’ve made them, you’ll see their purpose.”

Li Zijing didn’t press further. Looking at his tall brother, he couldn’t help but sigh.

“Yi, you’re a capable man. Why go to all this trouble, mixing with us poor villagers?”

He sounded a little disgruntled. “The granary, the militia drills, teaching children—what good are these for you?”

Li Yi thought for a moment, then spoke gravely. “Brother, suppose one day a band of vicious marauders stormed into Ganquan, slaughtered in Linjia Valley for ten days, then went to Gaojia Village, killing three times over, until not one in ten of our people survived. Suppose the survivors had their hair shaved, forced to wear a rat-tail braid, and were made slaves. What would we do?”

Li Zijing’s hands trembled in fear. “Could such fiends really exist?”

Li Yi sighed. “They would make us their servants, let cowards rule over us, keep us ignorant so our children would swear loyalty to them, truly believing they were our masters. Worse, they’d let outsiders bully our children, robbing them of what we left behind…”

“Enough.”

Li Zijing’s eyes reddened, and he clenched his fists, his voice thick with fury.

“If such villains came, I’d rather die than let them into Ganquan.”

Li Yi was startled by his outburst.

He had only described what the future might hold, never expecting Li Zijing to react so fiercely.

At first, his brother had only been afraid, but once he imagined what would happen to their descendants, his anger exploded.

For some reason, Li Yi thought of that future battle when China rose to its feet.

Those beloved people had known fear, too, but to keep their children from ever facing war again, they willingly died in distant lands.