Xu Moqing, an official in charge of water transport, spent his life balancing “duty” and “devotion.”
In his early years, he plunged into icy water to open up the canal route, leaving himself with an old injury in his lower back. It was his way of taking responsibility for the people. When he protected the grain at Yongding Gate, he rode hard to reach it, yet couldn’t stop worrying about the cut on Shen Wei’s wrist, his heart full of concern for her.
He was often away on business. During his grain transport inspections in Jiangnan, the osmanthus sachet Shen Wei had sewn into his cotton coat comforted him. Before retiring, he painted a canal transport map and took special care to include her in a corner, embroidering a sachet, a quiet testament to how much he missed her.
In his later years, after leaving office, he most enjoyed strolling through the courtyard with Shen Wei’s hand in his. They watched the osmanthus fall and the plum blossoms bloom. When their grandchildren gathered around them, he still ladled lotus seed soup into her bowl, just as he had all those years ago, and murmured, “It still tastes the same.” His life was devoted to his country and family, and to protecting the woman he loved.
