Feng Chun's death had hit Gu Qingzhou hard. He remained mired in self-reproach, as though only risking his life in desperate fighting on the battlefield could vent the pain and anguish in his heart.
That day, He An had rescued Gu Qingzhou from the chaotic ranks. His repeated reproaches had struck like a staff blow to the head, and still rang in Gu Qingzhou's ears.
"Brother Gu, can you avenge Feng Chun by fighting without a care for your life? If he knew, beneath the Nine Springs, that you spent every day like this, your mind filled with remorse and hatred, would he be happy?"
"Brother Gu... the dead are gone, but the living must carry on. Like you, I want to repay kindness and settle grudges. Why do we cultivate? Why did we join the army?... To protect our country, our loved ones, and our friends..."
Gu Qingzhou had wept bitterly, finally unraveling the knot in his heart and letting go of his obsession. As the army withdrew and the fighting ended, he set out alone, traveling a thousand miles to find Feng Chun's mother in his hometown.
The duke, who had enjoyed fine clothes and sumptuous food since childhood, could scarcely imagine that Feng Chun's family had been so destitute. The food that barely filled their stomachs each day was so coarse it was difficult to swallow. That white-haired mother, seemingly frail, was so resilient and unyielding. There were many equally impoverished villagers, too, whose kindness, simplicity, warmth, and friendliness moved Gu Qingzhou deeply.
The woman insisted on refusing to accompany him to the imperial capital. Gu Qingzhou arranged everything needed to build a school, quietly left her several banknotes sufficient to support her in her old age, and entrusted her care to the villagers before leaving alone.