He handed the soldier the jade token. "Take this. Go to the eastern province. Start again."
One bitter winter, a starving soldier crawled into the cemetery, his armor rusted to his flesh. "They call you a good man," the soldier hissed. "Give me your horse, or I will take your life."
While other men sought fortune on the Silk Road or glory as swordsmen, Gao tended to the unloved dead. He washed the bones of bandits, buried stillborn children in silk scraps, and every evening, he lit paper lanterns for ghosts who had no family to pray for them.
The soldier left.
He handed the soldier the jade token. "Take this. Go to the eastern province. Start again."
One bitter winter, a starving soldier crawled into the cemetery, his armor rusted to his flesh. "They call you a good man," the soldier hissed. "Give me your horse, or I will take your life."
While other men sought fortune on the Silk Road or glory as swordsmen, Gao tended to the unloved dead. He washed the bones of bandits, buried stillborn children in silk scraps, and every evening, he lit paper lanterns for ghosts who had no family to pray for them.
The soldier left.
