Volume One: The Adopted Child

Prologue: Qianqiu

The gradually setting sun painted the horizon with a bright golden hue. On a small street, a blue-cloth sedan chair carried by two men swayed as it turned the corner.

Both sedan bearers were sturdy men in their early thirties, walking at a steady pace, followed by a middle-aged servant with a humble and respectful demeanor.

Seeing this scene, the locals, long accustomed to it, made way, and some even greeted them warmly.

This blue-cloth sedan chair had been coming here every so often for several years now. Over time, people came to know that the elderly man inside was an old tutor invited by a certain family school in the city. Unfortunately, his students were mischievous, and his peers often made things difficult for him, so whenever he was in a bad mood, he would have the sedan chair carried out, taking a servant along for a stroll.

Edward Clark, following behind the sedan, responded cheerfully to the various greetings, though he felt helpless about his job.

If it was just for relaxation, there were plenty of places in the capital, but this gentleman insisted on taking the blue-cloth sedan chair out for a leisurely ride!

Inside the slightly more spacious and taller sedan, the elderly man in a blue robe was sulking.

Standing behind him was a thin man, but the two bearers outside showed no sign of extra effort from carrying an additional person.

As the sedan rose and fell with the bearers’ steps, the old man propped his chin on his elbow, lost in thought.

To be precise, he was spacing out.

To prevent others from making a fuss about his habit, he never got out of the sedan on the street, and both the bearers and the servant were rarely-seen faces chosen from his household. After all, he was just out for a stroll, not traveling incognito.

But today, his mood was the worst it had ever been on these outings.

His youngest son, always unruly, was dissatisfied with the marriage about to be arranged for him, ran away from home, and even declared he would prove himself. Those colleagues who loved to kick a man when he was down seized the chance to accuse him of failing to raise his son, letting a rebellious child run wild.

He remembered when that troublemaker was little, how lovable he was—who would have thought he’d grow up to be such a scoundrel!

It was all his fault for being so focused on his official duties all these years. After his wife passed away, he arranged marriages for his three elder sons and then stopped paying attention to household affairs! The other rascals at home had their own selfish motives; otherwise, how could such a big incident as running away from home have escalated to this point of no return?

Lost in thought, the old man gradually dozed off, but just as he was about to fall asleep, a sudden commotion erupted outside, and the sedan abruptly stopped. He frowned, and the next moment, the sounds of chaotic footsteps, shouting, and the clatter of various tools—all sorts of noises—merged into a cacophony.

The old man immediately opened his eyes and lifted the curtain for a peek. What he saw made his eyes widen: not far away, flames were leaping from a house—it was on fire!

Edward Clark had already rushed ahead and hurriedly said, “Old Master, there’s a fire up ahead and everyone’s trying to put it out. It’s chaos—should we take another route?”

Already in a foul mood, the old man was further irritated by the fire blocking his way, and even more so when his servant’s first reaction was to suggest a detour. He snapped angrily, “Stop the sedan! Go to the yamen and call for help, get the water carts here—what if the fire spreads?”

As Edward Clark snapped out of his daze and dashed off, the old man signaled for the sedan to wait in place. Watching as more and more yamen runners arrived and joined the neighbors in a frantic effort to put out the fire with water carts, and as the flames gradually came under control, he finally let out a sigh of relief.

He had known poverty himself—how could he not understand the pain of losing one’s home and belongings to fire?

But just then, his sharp ears caught someone shouting in the distance, followed by the loud wail of a baby carried on the wind. His heart stirred, and when Edward Clark returned, drenched in sweat, he immediately ordered, “Looks like a child was rescued from the fire? Quick, go and see!”

Edward Clark inwardly groaned, but knowing the old man’s stubbornness, he could only instruct the two bearers to lift the sedan and move forward. As they drew closer to the noisy crowd, he finally caught the gist of their conversation.

“That woman used her last breath to shield the child and escape the fire!”

“They’re outsiders—just rented this place a few days ago. Even the landlord only knows the woman’s surname is Ding.”

“The child’s got a strong cry. If someone would do a good deed and take him in, give him a bite to eat, it wouldn’t be in vain for that woman to have risked her life!”

“Give him a bite to eat? Raising a child isn’t that easy! Look at his face, barely the size of a palm, not even as long as my elbow—he’s clearly frail by birth. Even if he survives this, who knows how long he’ll live?”