Mr. Tu was much overcome; the temptation to a life of luxury after his suffering had been too great, and after his marriage to the beautiful daughter of the “House of Hu” he did not dare to tell of the brave, true-hearted wife and mother in the city of Peking. He put it off from month to month, but it did not become any easier as time went by, and the riches, beautiful home, and family were driving all that dark past more and more from his mind. Their home was all the heart could desire, and later a little son came to share it with them, and then indeed were the bitter days of the past cast out of heart and mind as far as possible.
Thus, in comfort and joy, the twelve years passed away; Mr. Hu thanking the gods for giving him such a son, content that old age should come to him and his old wife under these most auspicious circumstances. How different a life was this from that of the wife and mother in the far north.
One day Mr. Tu went with some companions for a ride outside of the city. As they neared the gate they saw a lot of people gathered about [[144]]a young lad of remarkably fine face and form, but in very poor clothing. He had in his hand a broken comb and, spread out before him, a part of a silk handkerchief and a broken mirror, and with tears in his eyes Mr. Tu waved the men aside and asked the boy who he was and where he came from.
The boy said, “I am Ting Lang and am come in search of my father, Tu Ching Ling, known by the name of Kao. He was banished to this city and I am in search of him. He came here twelve years ago. If any of you know him or where I can find him, will you please tell me.”
Not a word was spoken for a moment, then Mr. Tu said, pointing to the keepsakes, “What are those things? Do you call such stuff treasure?”
“Yes,” said Ting Lang. “My mother gave them to me, the other half of each my father has and he was to know me by these.”
A man standing near said, “This must be your son. You have not told us all the truth about yourself.”
Mr. Tu was angry then and also afraid, and striking the boy with his riding-whip, he said, as he threw him some silver, “Get you gone, you are an impostor; you are not my son, but because you are a poor boy I will help you a [[145]]little and not put you in prison.” Saying this, he rode on, followed by his friends.
As the men rode away, the bystanders all said, “That is your father. He is Tu Ching Ling, also Kao Ching Chi. He was banished here twelve years ago.”
When the boy heard this, he gathered his treasures together, and went into a temple near, where he sat down to think. What had he to live for? His father had disowned him; had struck him.