Chapter 10: The Red-Feathered Duck

The thatched hut was in shambles, so broken down that the wind slipped in through the cracks; to call it bare was no exaggeration. Only after asking did Liu Shen learn that the hut had been abandoned for many years, left uninhabited, and the two siblings had only moved in a few years ago, using it as shelter from the elements.

During their conversation, Liu Shen also learned that the half-grown boy was named Yuan Xiaofei, thirteen years old, while the little girl was Yu Hong, ten; they were not blood-related siblings.

Yuan Xiaofei’s parents had died when he was very young, and he’d grown up living off the goodwill of others. Yu Hong had come with relatives as a refugee four years ago, but along the way, her leg was broken in a fall. Her relatives abandoned her, and it was Yuan Xiaofei who found her.

Perhaps, having suffered hardship himself, Yuan Xiaofei had grown compassionate and, moved by pity, took on the role of an elder brother, caring for the six-year-old Yu Hong.

Adversity reveals true feelings; though not related by blood, the affection forged through four years together was deeper and more sincere than that of many siblings.

Flood, flight, theft… Even Liu Shen, hardened by the suffering of the world, found himself dazed, as if time had rewound, returning him to those harrowing days four years ago when he’d fled to Anqing Prefecture.

He turned his gaze to Yu Hong’s lame leg. “Show me your foot,” he said.

Though Yu Hong didn’t understand, she said nothing, obediently sitting at the edge of the bed. She removed her shoes and socks and lifted her hem to reveal her crippled leg.

Her foot itself was fine, but the lower leg bulged where the bone had set askew—a fracture left untreated, the bone mending out of place. It was no wonder she limped when she walked.

Before Liu Shen could speak, a rumble came from the little girl’s stomach.

Yu Hong was unprepared for her hunger to betray her, and in her embarrassment and panic, she hung her head, not daring to meet anyone’s gaze. Yuan Xiaofei, beside her, flushed scarlet but said nothing, his lips pressed tight.

With a silent sigh, Liu Shen reached for his purse, pulled out two small silver beans, and called, “Boy, come here.”

“What for?” Yuan Xiaofei asked, coming to his side, lips tightly pursed.

“You’re a fast runner—I got tired just chasing you. Now you’re hungry, too.” Liu Shen placed the silver in his palm. “I smelled roast duck on the street earlier—delicious. Go and buy two for me.”

Yuan Xiaofei gripped the silver in his fist, looked at Liu Shen, then at Yu Hong, and with a clenched jaw, dashed out the door.

Yu Hong watched him go, curiosity shining in her eyes as she turned to Liu Shen. “Sir, you just let my brother go buy things—aren’t you afraid he’ll take the money and never come back?”

“He’ll return,” Liu Shen replied, finding a bench and settling down with certainty. “Because you’re still here.”

Yu Hong lowered her head, tears slipping silently down her cheeks. In a choked voice, she asked, “Sir, can I go to the magistrate in my brother’s place?”

“No,” Liu Shen shook his head. “Is it because he’s good to you that you want to help him?”

“He’s very good to me.” Yu Hong nodded, tears glistening. “He sings to me, tells me stories, counts the stars with me. If I won’t eat, he scolds me, says I need food to grow tall and strong so no one bullies me. He says…”

Liu Shen sighed quietly. “So you know he steals?”

“I know.”

“Did he ever teach you to steal?”

“No, he won’t let me learn, won’t let me steal.”

“What did he say to you?”

She wiped her cheeks and mimicked Yuan Xiaofei’s tone: “I’m a pest that everyone hates. When you grow up, don’t ever be like me.”

Liu Shen fell silent for a long time, at a loss for words. His own life had been far from easy, yet he still couldn’t bear to see such suffering.

At that moment, Yuan Xiaofei burst back in, breathless, clutching two parcels wrapped in oiled paper. Seeing Yu Hong safe, he relaxed and placed the parcels on the table before Liu Shen.

“The two roast ducks you wanted.”

“Good.” Liu Shen unwrapped one, and the aroma brought back bitter memories of his own flight to Anqing Prefecture.

He glanced at the siblings, both swallowing hard, their stomachs rumbling with hunger.

He pushed the unopened parcel toward them. “Eat. I can’t finish two ducks by myself.”

“But…”

“If I say eat, you eat. Enough talk.”

Yuan Xiaofei was cowed by his sternness, convinced the duck would be his last meal. But as Yu Hong’s stomach growled, he said no more, his eyes reddened as he tore open the packet, ripped off a leg, and placed it in Yu Hong’s hand.

“Eat!”

“Four years ago, after the flood, I fled to Anqing Prefecture,” Liu Shen said as the siblings hungrily devoured the duck. “The porridge the authorities handed out for disaster relief was rationed each day. I was dizzy with hunger, and in desperation, I once stole a roast duck from Drunken Breeze Pavilion while the servants were preparing a feast…”

“That duck was delicious—crisp, tender, and fragrant. I ate until the grease ran down my chin, not a scrap of bone left.

“But it was also the hardest thing I’d ever eaten. It felt as if something was lodged in my throat, choking me until I wept. Only when I abandoned my dignity could I force it down.”

The siblings were stunned to hear him so casually admit to stealing duck. Yuan Xiaofei hesitated, then asked, “What happened then?”

“Then?” Liu Shen gnawed on the duck, his tone nostalgic. “Then I let go of my burdens and sold myself to the canal guild for a meal.

“Later, when I got my first month’s wages, I went back to Drunken Breeze Pavilion, bought a duck, and paid for two.

“I must say, that duck tasted truly wonderful. Even now, I can still recall its flavor.”

Yuan Xiaofei stood frozen, as if he understood something in Liu Shen’s words, yet it remained just out of reach.

“Let me teach you a crucial rule for life—I was about your age when I learned it, boy,” Liu Shen said, spitting out a bone, his expression solemn. “The two greatest trials in life are the wrong path and a dead end. Most people fear the wrong path, but it’s not so terrible—you can still turn back. The real terror is reaching a dead end, when there is no way back, and no way forward.”

“The wrong path… the dead end…” Yuan Xiaofei looked down, his eyes red, not daring to look up. He asked in a trembling voice, “Do I… do I still have a chance?”

“You do.”

As they spoke, Liu Shen had finished his duck, clapped his hands, and stood. “The best time to plant a tree was ten years ago. The second best is now.”

Yuan Xiaofei stared, still unable to grasp the full meaning of his words.

Liu Shen had come to Creekmouth Town on business, and meeting these two was pure chance. Now that his purse was recovered and his piece said, he saw no reason to linger.

“You’re young—I won’t bother sending you to the authorities.”

With that, he turned and left.

In the battered hut, the two children watched him go, feeling strangely lost.

Yu Hong licked the grease from her fingers and whispered, “Brother, that man looks fierce, but he’s actually a good person.”

“I know…” Yuan Xiaofei’s expression was conflicted. He wiped his greasy hands on his clothes, crawled under the bed, and rummaged through an old, worm-eaten, mouse-chewed book chest. Finding what he sought—a battered ancient text—he bolted out the door in pursuit.