Chapter 10: How to Respond

The elderly man did not give much thought to Hong Xiaoduo’s question, assuming it was just casual conversation.

"As for that, I’m not entirely sure, but generally speaking, when someone dies, it must be reported to the authorities. The magistrate’s office sends a coroner to examine the body, and the bailiffs investigate to confirm the identity before striking the deceased from the household registry.

"However, for people like beggars who have no fixed abode, it’s not unusual for them to die of hunger or illness, or even from fighting over food. It’s no great surprise when such people die out in the open. Unless their own people pressure the magistrate for justice, they are simply registered—noting the date, location, and physical characteristics—and then sent to the charity morgue for a while. If no one comes to claim them, they are tossed into a pit in the potter’s field and buried, and that’s the end of it. These days, the magistrate’s office doesn’t put much effort into investigating such cases." The old man had served as a village head in his youth and possessed some worldly wisdom.

I see, Hong Xiaoduo thought, feeling slightly relieved. "By the way, sir, I’d like to ask if those beggars who were causing trouble in your village had any distinct features?"

The old man was surprised by the question but didn’t find it bothersome. He carefully described the group—their heights, builds, and the nickname of one of them, "Old Cat."

"Those fellows certainly haven't done this for the first time. If you happen to run into them in the future, it’s best to avoid them," the old man kindly warned. He had noticed the sword at Hong Xiaoduo’s waist, but she didn’t strike him as a seasoned martial artist; she seemed far too inexperienced.

A child at the entrance of the village called out for his grandfather, and the old man mentioned that his wife was calling him back. Hong Xiaoduo, accompanied by the seven children, watched the old man leave before continuing on their way.

After walking for about fifteen minutes, they caught sight of the vacant house the old man had described—a dilapidated structure with no gate. Having been abandoned and neglected for years, half the roof had collapsed, and the window frames were gone, likely stripped away for firewood.

Looking at the house, Hong Xiaoduo thought that if she were alone, she might not dare to stay there; it had that eerie, horror-movie quality to it.

"Mother, wait a moment, let us tidy up," the eldest boy said, helping Hong Xiaoduo set down the little girl he had been carrying on her back.

Before Hong Xiaoduo could offer to do it herself, she saw the boy pull out a flint and begin coordinating the other children in a well-organized cleanup. In the corner of the room where the roof remained intact, there was a pile of hay, likely left by other travelers. The boy lit a small fire with branches in front of the sleeping area and roasted the steamed buns the old man had given them.

Hong Xiaoduo carefully inspected the remaining section of the roof to ensure there was no risk of it collapsing before she finally sat down on the hay to rest.

"Mother, eat this," the little girl next to her said, offering the roasted bird she held.

Her mother had carried her today, and she had even slept on her back—it was so comfortable. Having a mother is truly wonderful, just as the big brother had said.

Hong Xiaoduo smiled at the sight. She took it but didn't eat; instead, she passed it to one of the children by the fire, gesturing for them to warm it up further. Once it was heated and cooled, she gave it back to the little one. The child was still reluctant to eat it, wanting to save it for later.

"Eat it. If you like it, I'll catch more tomorrow. Other things might be hard to find, but birds are everywhere," Hong Xiaoduo told her with a smile.

The little one nodded happily but still didn't eat immediately, instead trying to share it with her brothers and sisters. But after a round, no one would take the tiny, shriveled bird.

The steamed buns were ready, and the eldest boy brought two to Hong Xiaoduo. There were only five buns in total. By giving her two, it was clear the seven children intended to split the remaining three.

These buns were the size of a fist; Hong Xiaoduo would need at least three to be full. She was indeed hungry, but how could she bring herself to eat them? She broke one in half, kept half for herself, and gave the rest to the eldest boy to distribute.

"Didn't you call me Mother? Doesn't that mean you must listen to me?" Hong Xiaoduo said, intentionally putting on a stern face. The boy opened his mouth to protest but eventually came over and honestly distributed the food to the others.

The buns were devoured in a few bites. In these conditions, there was no thought of washing up before bed. Once they had finished, they all curled up on the hay to sleep. Hong Xiaoduo noticed they lay on either side of her but kept a small distance, knowing they feared she might find them dirty.

"Why are you staying so far away? Come closer, it's warmer," she said, her tone still a bit gruff, but the children immediately scrambled closer. The little one and another girl nestled against her, while the eldest boy took the outermost position.

The night was deep, but Hong Xiaoduo felt no sleepiness. From their position, the gap in the roof offered a perfect view of the stars.

The Big Dipper? A thought struck Hong Xiaoduo, and she sat up.

"Mother? Are you thirsty? Or...?" the eldest boy asked softly from the edge. If she needed water, he would fetch it; if she needed to go outside, he would go with her to keep her company.

"Why aren't you asleep? Are you afraid I'll abandon you and run off?" Hong Xiaoduo asked, curious.

"No, Mother. I'm a light sleeper; any little movement wakes me," the boy whispered, his voice tinged with helplessness and a touch of grievance.

*Sigh.* It wasn't that he was a light sleeper; it was that he was simply unable to rest at ease. Hong Xiaoduo felt a pang of pity. He was just a child himself, yet he had taken on the responsibilities of an adult.

"I was thinking about your names," Hong Xiaoduo said.

Hearing this, the boy’s eyes lit up, and he sat up.

Hong Xiaoduo pointed to the stars in the night sky. "See that? Those seven stars connected together, looking like a ladle? That's the Big Dipper. Since there are seven of you, I'll name you after them."

"Mother? Should I be Star One? Or Big Star?" the boy asked, suppressing his excitement.

Hong Xiaoduo couldn't help but chuckle. "What Star One or Big Star? Do you see the handle of the ladle? The meaning of the Big Dipper begins at the handle. The first star is the Star of Strength—it gives you power when you face difficulties. It’s called Tian-shu. So, your name will be Tian-shu. Do you like it?"

"Tian-shu? The Star of Strength? Is that my name?" The boy repeated it, barely able to believe it.

Hong Xiaoduo nodded. "Of course. If you don't like it, I can think of another."

"I like it! Mother, I like it! My name is Tian-shu! I have a name—my very own name!" The boy shouted with joy. Hong Xiaoduo quickly shushed him, gesturing for him to be quiet.

But it was too late; the other six children had been woken up and were rubbing their eyes in confusion.

"Mother, what about me?"
"Mother, me too!"
They all looked at her with sleepy, expectant eyes.

Amused and helpless, Hong Xiaoduo explained the origin of the names and assigned them according to the order of the Big Dipper: Tian-xuan, Tian-ji, Tian-quan, Yu-heng, Kai-yang, and Yao-guang.

Yu-heng and the little one, Yao-guang, were girls, and the names suited them well.

Hong Xiaoduo initially hesitated to mention that the star Kai-yang was sometimes associated with disaster and greed, but she decided it was better to be honest; concealment might lead to trouble later. She told little Kai-yang that in Taoism, this star is also known as the Wushu Star, which also symbolizes self-restraint.

Therefore, it was not a bad thing at all.

Little Kai-yang nodded earnestly. "Mother, I understand. I will keep kindness in my heart, restrain my greed, and strive to be a good person."

Such a clever, sweet child. Hong Xiaoduo couldn't help but reach out and ruffle his hair.

With their new names, they were all too excited to sleep, calling out to each other.

"Alright, it's very late. Go to sleep. Tomorrow, I'll teach you how to write your names." This was the happiest moment since the eight of them had met, and Hong Xiaoduo, touched by their joy, felt her own spirits lift.

"Mother, what is your name?" little Yao-guang asked suddenly.

There was no need to keep that a secret. Hong Xiaoduo smiled. "Hong Xiaoduo. 'Xiao' as in 'size,' and 'Duo' as in 'flower'."

"Mother, your surname is Hong. Does that mean we are also surnamed Hong?" Tian-xuan asked, his eyes shining with excitement.

Ah? This...

Hong Xiaoduo didn't know how to answer. They hadn't had names, so she gave them some; now they wanted her surname. It sounded like such a simple thing, but if they took her name, would it make them believe even more firmly that they could stay with her forever?