The night wind skimmed the placid river, stirring faint ripples across its surface. A patrol boat was making its leisurely rounds when its crew suddenly noticed several dark shapes ahead. They looked like boats. Instantly alert, the patrolmen rowed faster toward them.
The splash of the oars alarmed the figures ahead. The shadows stirred in a panic, turned around, and fled.
“Who goes there?”
Once the other side moved, the patrol boat no longer bothered concealing itself. Its crew shouted questions and ordered the alarm drums beaten.
In moments, drums thundered across the river and startled waterbirds into flight as the two sides gave chase. But the fleeing boats were small and nimble, and so fast that the patrolmen could not catch up before reaching the border between the two territories.
Watching the Southern Yu patrol boats approach and shield the little craft as they escaped, the Northern Zhou river troops were furious. “Southern Yu spies! Report to the heir apparent immediately!”
Under the Northern Alliance’s administration, the northern lands had adopted architectural styles and customs similar to Northern Zhou’s. Fu Xi Yan had spent several days there feeling perfectly at home. It was only after entering territory governed by Mengwu, where the wind bent the grasses to reveal grazing cattle and sheep, that he truly felt he had left the country.
“Sheep are so adorable.”
Fu Xi Yan watched them from afar, then swallowed. “But roast lamb is so delicious.”
Fu Gui Gui stood beside him and nodded as though in complete agreement.
Perhaps she had been eating too well, because Fu Gui Gui had kept growing taller. She now reached roughly to Fu Xi Yan’s shoulder, and sometimes when they stood together he could rest his arm on her shoulder… or rather, the root of her wing.
Pei Yuan Jin glanced at the father and daughter, who had turned into a pair of statues gazing longingly at sheep, and began searching for the herdsman. Seeing him move ahead, Fu Xi Yan told Fu Gui Gui to fend for herself and enjoy her freedom, then scampered after him.
The herdsman was buried in his flock. Only when the sheep grew frightened of the strangers and parted like a stream did he emerge into view. He showed no fear of foreigners. Frowning, he shouted in the Mengwu language and gestured for them to leave.
Pei Yuan Jin held out a gold leaf.
The herdsman’s expression changed immediately, and two words that Pei Yuan Jin understood tumbled from his mouth. “You. Who?”
Pei Yuan Jin did not immediately ask about Aburslang’s tribe. Instead, he presented himself and Fu Xi Yan as travelers passing through.
Whether the herdsman understood was anyone’s guess. They talked past each other for ages, though the herdsman did most of the talking. Once Pei Yuan Jin realized communication was impossible, he simply stared at the man.
In the end, the herdsman could not withstand the pressure of Pei Yuan Jin’s gaze. He admitted defeat and took them back to his felt tent, where his wife served milk tea and roast meat. A little later, a dark-skinned middle-aged man with slightly curly hair entered the tent behind him.
“From the northern lands? From Northern Zhou?”
The man’s pronunciation was strange, but he was speaking the official language used throughout north and south.
Fu Xi Yan lied that they were sons of a wealthy family from Yujing. With war threatening the northern lands, they had grown tired of staying at home and had come to see Mengwu’s Heavenly Lake. They hoped someone would guide them there. Aburslang’s tribe was settled at the foot of the lake, so finding the lake would mean finding the tribe.
The middle-aged man looked unconvinced and asked several more questions. Fu Xi Yan gave him whatever answers came to mind. Whenever the questions grew too detailed, he simply recited a few lines of classical poetry, leaving the man so thoroughly bewildered that he could not tell up from down.
Once the frowning man left, Pei Yuan Jin asked, “When he asked what business your family was in, you answered, ‘Beneath the moon, pearls weep upon the blue sea; under the warm sun of Lantian, jade sends up smoke’?”
Fu Xi Yan blinked innocently. “Read it my way: ‘Under the blue-sea moon? There are bright pearls, I tell you! Beneath the Lantian sun? Warm jade grows there!’ Bright pearls and warm jade! That means our family is absolutely loaded!”
Elio’s Notes: The verse is from Li Shangyin’s poem The Ornate Zither (Jinse). Fu Xi Yan chops its imagery about tearful pearls and misty jade into a shameless claim that his family deals in expensive treasures.
Pei Yuan Jin: “…” Simply pushing him to improve his martial arts was a mistake. He needed education in both letters and arms. As soon as they returned, he would hire a tutor and make Fu Xi Yan study properly!
Fu Xi Yan had no idea that his nonsense had earned him a free private tutor. He was still congratulating himself. “Good thing I only gave half my Chinese-language education back to my teacher.”
The middle-aged man soon returned, accompanied by the tribal chief and his youngest son. The boy appeared to be sixteen or seventeen, with a sturdy, open face. Apparently he understood the official language and could serve as their guide.
Fu Xi Yan was delighted and offered a generous price.
The youngest son proudly thumped his chest. “Bu He.”
The chief regarded his son with a complicated expression. He did not trust these foreigners, but the amount of money they offered was exactly what his family needed in an emergency.
The previous winter had been bitterly cold, killing many of the tribe’s cattle and sheep. When spring came, the Mengwu king increased the tribute each tribe had to provide. Those who could not pay were forced to surrender able-bodied men instead, valuing one man at a mere two sheep. Rather than hand his son over as though he were livestock, the chief would take a chance on letting him travel with two strangers. At least that way the boy had a better chance of coming home.
Bu He was not as weighed down by worry as his father. At his age, the outside world was full of wonders, and he longed to go out and see it for himself. Even a trip to Heavenly Lake was a rare opportunity.
With another person in their party, they could no longer travel using lightness skills. Fu Xi Yan bought three horses from the tribe and said that when Bu He went home, he could ride back on the horse he had brought with him. Delighted, Bu He brought out his beloved little white horse.
The little white horse stood a head shorter than the other two chestnut horses, but it was no slower. Every so often it raced ahead, deliberately blocking the other horses to provoke them. Whenever it did, Bu He let out a long peal of unrestrained laughter.
Fu Xi Yan: “…” I really want to leave a magnificent footprint on that plump white rump.
With a local guide, they no longer needed to follow Fu Gui Gui around searching for bald heads, and their journey became considerably more orderly.
Bu He was somewhat reserved when they first set off, but as time passed, he could no longer hide his naturally talkative disposition. He understood the official language, but spoke it poorly and knew only a few simple words. With plenty of gesturing, however, they managed to communicate. Only then did Fu Xi Yan learn that they owed their success in hiring a guide to the Mengwu king’s sudden intensification of his exploitation of the tribes.
“What does the Mengwu king want with so many cattle and sheep?”
Bu He explained, “King. Very big… grass… long time.”
Fu Xi Yan cleared his throat. “It’s not even dark yet. Don’t start telling dirty jokes.”
Elio’s Notes: Bu He is trying to explain the king’s plans in broken official speech. The word 草 (cǎo, grass) also resembles a vulgar slang word, which is why Fu Xi Yan insists the conversation has suddenly gone somewhere indecent.
Bu He looked completely bewildered.
Fu Xi Yan moved on. “If the cattle and sheep aren’t enough, he takes people instead? What does he need so many people for?”
Bu He began gesturing again. “King. Very big tents. People. Many, many people.”
Fu Xi Yan’s expression was difficult to describe. The king has a very big… something, grass for a long time, big tents, lots of people… Put it all together, let his imagination wander, and… Goodness. It did not bear thinking about!
Bu He seemed wholly unaware of how easy his words were to misunderstand. He even laughed cheerfully. “Have you and you, me and me, not sad.”
Fu Xi Yan: “…” Those who understood him knew he meant “you all” and “we all.” Anyone else might think they each had a “little brother” tagging along.
Apart from occasionally producing expressions so comically open to misinterpretation, Bu He was excellent at his actual job.
He had never visited Heavenly Lake himself, but before they left, his father had handed over a map passed down through the generations. Using the map and his familiarity with Mengwu’s terrain, Bu He took them almost straight to the lake, arriving in fewer than five days.
At that point, Fu Xi Yan, who had spent the journey hurrying everyone along like a taskmaster, abruptly lost all interest in visiting the lake. Claiming he had eaten enough dried rations and wanted a change of fare, he suggested finding lodging with another tribe.
Bu He waved his hands frantically. “No, no!”
Fu Xi Yan teased him. “You’re not No-No. You’re Bu He.”
“No, no. King here. You… don’t go.” The more anxious Bu He became, the less clearly he could speak. At times like this, he could only turn to Pei Yuan Jin for help.
Pei Yuan Jin explained, “The Mengwu royal encampment is close to Heavenly Lake. The neighboring tribes are all large, powerful tribes. Ordinary visitors who simply walk up to them are likely never to come back.” By ordinary visitors, he specifically meant ordinary people from Northern Zhou. Mengwu had been so eager to help the northern lands fight Northern Zhou that its hostility toward Northern Zhou was plain.
Fu Xi Yan nodded, then turned to Bu He. “In that case, I suppose you’re not much use to us anymore.”
Bu He shivered all over and instinctively took a step back.
Fu Xi Yan gave a sinister chuckle. “Well, well. Let me think. The last person we decided was useless might already have…”
Bu He’s eyes widened. Before setting out, his father had warned him that foreigners might harm him, but he had thought they had all gotten along so well on the journey.
Had all of it been a lie?
…
As dusk approached, the evening breeze rolled the grasslands into one green wave after another.
Bu He sat astride his white horse, holding the reins of the two chestnut horses, and set off for home with a thoroughly bewildered expression.
The little white horse evidently believed its position as leader had finally been confirmed, and pranced along merrily. Watching the scenery flash past on either side, Bu He could not help glancing back to see whether those strange foreigners had changed their minds. After all, they had not even reached Heavenly Lake, yet they had given him another large sum of money and sent him away… without keeping a single horse. It was so odd. Did people from the northern lands never worry about being cheated?
Fu Xi Yan, who was apparently unconcerned about losing money, was already darting around the vicinity of Heavenly Lake with Pei Yuan Jin. According to Aburslang, his tribe lived where the rising sun shone and lush fresh grass grew.
Fu Xi Yan said, “In other words, east?”
But there seemed to be no tribe to the east. Well, that was not strictly true. A flock of sheep was grazing peacefully a little north of due east. When the sun set, however, the herdsmen drove them toward the northern side of the lake, where a medium-sized tribe was camped.
With Bu He gone, Fu Xi Yan and Pei Yuan Jin could move about as stealthily as they pleased. Under cover of darkness, they slipped into that encampment for a look, but found neither Aburslang nor any token connected to the Immortal Treasury Palace. It was probably not his tribe.
Fu Xi Yan suggested, “Why don’t we go straight to the royal encampment?”
Asking ordinary tribes might get them nowhere. They might as well head for the heart of the matter, especially now that they were so close. The only person in Mengwu capable of making Aburslang and his entire tribe vanish without leaving a trace was the Mengwu king.
Pei Yuan Jin agreed.
Fu Xi Yan had seen the royal encampment marked on Bu He’s map. It lay a little more than ten li northeast of Heavenly Lake. Tribes such as Aburslang’s, whose grazing grounds were so close to the king’s camp, belonged to Mengwu’s upper ranks.
Fu Xi Yan was curious. “Then why did he join the Immortal Treasury Palace?”
Pei Yuan Jin said, “He was obsessed with martial arts and once climbed the mountain to challenge Father.”
“And then?”
“He lost to Chief Steward Shou.” Although Shou Nan Shan had already been promoted to elder, Pei Yuan Jin had not yet grown accustomed to changing the way he addressed him.
Fu Xi Yan said, “And then he strayed onto the wrong path?”
Pei Yuan Jin said, “…He left feeling quite satisfied.”
Chatting as they traveled, they soon saw an enormous cluster of felt tents appearing on the horizon: the royal encampment of Mengwu.