“Where have you settled Wang Zhi’s mother and family? I’d like to visit them,” Zhu Ping’an asked Liu Mu and Ruo Feng.
“Young Master, we’ve had a tent prepared for them, right in the middle of the supervisory camp, ensuring no one will disturb them,” Liu Mu replied.
“Very good. Take me to see them,” Zhu Ping’an said, nodding with satisfaction.
“Yes, sir,” Liu Mu and Ruo Feng responded, leading Zhu Ping’an out. Just as they left the commander’s tent, Zhu Ping’an paused, calling them back with instructions: “Wait. Have someone fetch three thick cotton quilts from the equipment camp, and prepare three portions of hot stew, six steaming white flour buns, and make sure the stew has plenty of meat. We’ll bring it all with us.”
“Young Master, is it necessary to treat them with such care?” Liu Mu asked, puzzled. “They’ve been locked in prison for five years. If they were useful, they wouldn’t have been left there until we brought them here.”
“Wang Zhi, a cunning warlord, doesn’t lack for wives or sons. I doubt we can use them to threaten him,” Ruo Feng added.
“I’m not using his mother and family to threaten him, but to give him hope, to show him sincerity,” Zhu Ping’an said with a slight smile, speaking slowly.
“Give him hope?” Liu Mu asked, still confused.
“How does treating his mother and family well give Wang Zhi hope? What kind of hope?” Ruo Feng was even more baffled.
“What do you think Wang Zhi will feel when he learns we’re treating his mother and family kindly?” Zhu Ping’an asked, looking at them.
“He’d probably be surprised…” Ruo Feng said, scratching his head.
“He might think we’re showing him goodwill?” Liu Mu said uncertainly.
“Exactly. He’ll sense we’re extending goodwill and start wondering why. That will spark all sorts of hopes in him. Once a man has hope, he won’t fight to the death. He’ll hesitate, wary of risking everything,” Zhu Ping’an explained simply.
“I think I understand, Young Master,” Liu Mu said after a moment’s thought. “We can’t use Wang Zhi’s mother and family to force his surrender, but we can make him entertain unrealistic hopes by treating them well, so he won’t fight us with full force.”
“Now that you put it like that, I think I get it too,” Ruo Feng said, dawning with realisation.
“Close enough,” Zhu Ping’an said with a faint smile.
Soon, three soldiers arrived, each carrying a thick cotton quilt and a mattress. “Sir, the equipment camp said it’s getting cold, so they gave us three mattresses in addition to the three thick quilts.”
“Very good,” Zhu Ping’an said, nodding approvingly.
Next, two soldiers approached with trays. One tray held three bowls of stew, filled with tofu, cabbage, vermicelli, pig’s blood, and slices of fatty pork, looking especially appetising. The other tray carried buns and three bowls of chicken soup, each with a large chicken leg that looked like a pistol, utterly tempting. The hot dishes and soup were fragrant, their aroma wafting from afar.
“Excellent,” Zhu Ping’an said, even more satisfied. He turned to Liu Mu and the others. “Come, take me to visit Wang Zhi’s mother and family.”
Soon, guided by Liu Mu and the others, Zhu Ping’an arrived at the tent housing Wang Zhi’s mother and family.
“Old Madam, this is our Lord Governor,” Liu Mu said, introducing Zhu Ping’an as he entered the tent.
“G-G-Greetings, Lord Governor. This guilty woman kowtows to you,” Wang Zhi’s mother said, hurriedly kneeling upon hearing that Zhu Ping’an was the Governor of Zhejiang.
“This guilty woman pays respects to the Lord Governor,” Wang Zhi’s wife said, quickly pulling little Wang Qiong to kneel alongside her mother-in-law.
“Old Madam, please rise. Madam, you and the child, please rise as well,” Zhu Ping’an said, stepping forward to help Wang Zhi’s mother up with both hands. To avoid impropriety, he only gestured lightly to assist Wang Zhi’s wife and son.
“No, no, this guilty woman fears dirtying your hands, sir,” Wang Zhi’s mother said, rising with a look of being overwhelmed by the honour.
“In truth, you are victims, caught up in this. The fault lies with Wang Zhi, not you. It’s just that the law is merciless, and you’ve been implicated,” Zhu Ping’an said gently.
Hearing Zhu Ping’an’s comforting words, Wang Zhi’s mother and wife couldn’t help but feel a surge of grief. They covered their faces with their sleeves, tears streaming down.
Little Wang Qiong, confused, leaned against his mother and grandmother’s shoulders to comfort them. He didn’t understand why they were crying. This lord hadn’t bullied them; he seemed kind. Why were his grandmother and mother weeping so?
“Old Madam, Madam, don’t be sad. Look forward—there’s no obstacle in life that can’t be overcome,” Zhu Ping’an said soothingly.
Wang Zhi’s mother, hearing this, stopped crying and looked at Zhu Ping’an in disbelief, her voice trembling as she asked, “This can be overcome?”
She knew well what crimes her son Wang Zhi had committed. He was a pirate, the leader of tens of thousands of pirates, plundering, killing, and burning along the coast. She’d heard he’d even captured several cities. Wasn’t that rebellion? The crimes he and his pirates had committed were so grave that even a hundred executions wouldn’t suffice. Many were heinous, unpardonable offences. Could this really be overcome?
“Of course,” Zhu Ping’an said with a nod.
Wang Zhi’s mother stared at him, unable to believe it, and said excitedly, “Truly, it can be overcome?”
Wang Zhi’s wife was equally thrilled, hardly daring to believe it.
“It can be overcome,” Zhu Ping’an repeated. He then had the three thick quilts and mattresses handed to Wang Zhi’s wife and instructed the buns, stew, and chicken soup to be placed on a simple table.
“Sir, you’re not just comforting this old woman, are you?” the Old Madam said, tears of excitement streaming down, still struggling to believe it.
Could such heinous, unpardonable crimes truly be overcome? It seemed too incredible to trust.
“Old Madam, you haven’t had dinner yet, have you? Come, eat while it’s hot. Let’s talk as you eat. Little brother, come eat,” Zhu Ping’an said to Wang Zhi’s mother and family, gently leading little Wang Qiong to the table.
Seeing the food on the table, little Wang Qiong couldn’t help but drool. The pork slices in the stew and the big chicken leg in the soup were like hands pulling at his appetite and tongue.
“Look at you, so shameless,” Wang Zhi’s wife said, unable to resist lightly smacking the back of little Wang Qiong’s head.
“It’s not the child’s fault. He’s suffered too,” Zhu Ping’an said, speaking up for little Wang Qiong.
“Hehe, my mum didn’t hit hard,” little Wang Qiong said with a grin, as if his mother’s smack had landed on a dog’s head instead.
Wang Zhi’s wife, exasperated, gave him another light tap.
“Enough. Don’t make a scene in front of the lord,” Wang Zhi’s mother said, shooting a stern glance at Wang Zhi’s wife and little Wang Qiong.
