On the way back, Xie Changgeng had someone bring food.

The child’s eyes lit up when he saw it. He took it and ate in big, eager mouthfuls, head bowed.

Xie Changgeng then took his own water canteen, uncorked it, and handed it over.

The child drank a few sips of water, and at last seemed to revive. He looked up and said, “Thank you, sir!”

Xie Changgeng asked him why he had gone missing that night.

The child said quietly: “That night, I was woken up by sounds from outside. I saw the stables were on fire. I was afraid the fire would spread over, so I wanted them to bring my little horse over to stay with me — but none of them were anywhere to be found, so I ran over myself. I saw a group of big horses had broken through the fence and bolted out. The foal’s reins had gotten tangled up with one of the big horses. I chased after it, calling to it, and it heard my voice and looked back at me. I knew it wanted to come back to me, but it couldn’t stop on its own — it was being dragged forward by the big horse, and I was afraid it couldn’t keep up and might fall and get trampled. I wanted to cut its reins, so I gave chase…”

He grabbed a sickle from the paddock — the kind used daily to cut grass — and chased after the fleeing herd in the direction they had run. But how could he possibly catch up with those terrified, fleeing horses? He was quickly left far behind.

Rain began to fall. The ground underfoot became muddy and slippery. Yet the child was worried about his foal, with only one thing on his mind — he wanted to find it. He forgot all fear, gripped the sickle, and kept running forward.

He ran further and further, stopping and starting, and when day broke, he heard in the distance the sound of anguished, desperate neighing.

He followed the sound and searched until he finally found his foal.

The reins tangled in a dead knot with the big horse had wound around the trunk of an old poplar tree in the wilderness, wrapping around it several times, impossible to free, and the horse had stopped there.

The foal’s neck and the corners of its mouth were covered in bloody chafing marks left by the straining reins. When it saw him appear, it reared its forelegs in the air and let out an excited neigh.

The child forgot his own exhaustion and hunger. He went straight to it, used the sickle in his hand to cut through the reins, and freed the two horses.

The big horse, the moment it was freed, immediately ran off. The child wrapped his arms around his battered little horse. After the excitement passed, he found himself hopelessly lost, unable to find the way back to the paddock.

He wandered through the wilderness for a long while, then remembered there was a river flowing behind the horse paddock. He thought that if he found that river and walked upriver along it, perhaps he could make it back.

And so, from then on, one person and one horse, they wandered through this boundless wilderness, searching everywhere for a moving source of water.

The second day, beside a stretch of marsh, they came face to face with a lone wolf.

The wolf did not go after the foal, which was far larger in body than itself. It bounded toward the child and lunged for him — whereupon the foal, only a few months old, galloped over and kicked it away with a rearing hoof. Enraged, the wolf sprang up, sank its teeth into the foal’s backside, was flung off, then bit it by the neck.

The foal was dragged to the ground, its throat on the verge of being torn open by the wolf’s claws, when the child scrambled up from the ground, charged forward, raised the sickle in his hands, and with every last ounce of his strength, drove it down.

The sharp curved blade sliced from the wolf’s neck all the way to its belly, slitting it open. Its intestines spilled out.

The wild wolf let go.

Facing the foal pawing the air before it, and that child clutching his weapon and screaming furiously at it, the wounded wolf felt fear.

After a moment of standoff, it dragged its spilling innards and fled in retreat.

Afraid the wolf might come back, the child took his injured foal and immediately ran off in another direction — not even noticing that one shoe had come off his foot.

After their escape from the wolf’s jaws, he and his foal seemed at last to have a turn of luck.

That night, he found a withered, fallen old poplar tree and curled up in the hollow beneath the trunk, making it through the night. The next morning, he found a riverbank.

One person and one horse, just like that, walked upriver along the wild bank, stopping and starting — for two full days — until this very moment, when Xie Changgeng and his men came riding up from behind.

“What have you been eating all these days?”

At first, whatever grass the foal ate, the child ate alongside it. Later his stomach kept growling, his whole body drained of strength, and he truly could not go on walking. He remembered that back at the medicine hut on Mount Jun, when he had helped his master with chores, his master had once told him that earthworms in the ground, also known as earth dragons, could not only be used in medicine but had also been eaten by common folk in times of famine to stave off hunger.

“I didn’t want to die out here… I wanted to get back… When I was too starved to walk, I dug up earthworms from the ground by the riverbank and ate them. That gave me the strength to keep going…”

The child answered quietly.

The people around him all fell silent. Liang Tuan looked at the child, his face showing surprise and admiration, and said: “Military Governor, not only does the young lord have great fortune and the protection of Heaven — at such a young age, to possess such fortitude of mind and will, I have never seen the like in my life. This subordinate is full of admiration! The young lord is a rare talent and a dragon among men — his future prospects are certain to be without limit!”

Xie Changgeng kept his head down, looking at the child now facing up at him. His gaze lingered for a moment on that dirty little face, and he said nothing — only slowly raised his hand and ruffled the small head resting in the crook of his arm.

He took off the cloak from his own body, completely wrapping the small figure on the horse before him in it, and let him lean against his chest, saying: “It’s all over now. From here back is still a long way. If you’re tired, close your eyes and sleep.”

He paused.

“When we get back, you’ll be able to see your mother.”

…

Late at night, rain began to fall. In a row of rooms behind the horse paddock, one window still glowed with warm amber lamplight.

A fire had already been lit inside to ward off the cold — warm and cozy. Xi’er, who had just been brought back by Liang Tuan, had bathed and now sat on the edge of the bed. Mu Fulan was tending to the wounds on his legs and feet, carefully applying ointment. When she saw his toes curl up, she stopped immediately.

“Does it hurt?”

She lifted her reddened, swollen eyes and looked at the child.

“It doesn’t hurt.”

“Mother, please don’t cry. I’m fine — don’t be sad.”

Xi’er shook his head and reached out his hand to wipe away her tears.

This was her son. So gentle, so thoughtful, and yet brave and fearless beyond what she had ever imagined. Alone in the wilderness, eating raw earthworms, his two feet bare and covered in wounds, he had walked on step by step alongside his little foal.

She held back the tears that were threatening to spill once more, smiled, and nodded. “Mother isn’t sad — she’s just too happy. Bear with it a little more; it won’t hurt soon.”

She continued to gently wipe the ointment on the child, blowing on the spots as she went. After applying all the medicine, she wrapped his two little feet in clean, soft cotton cloth, then held him as they lay down together.

“Mother, don’t go — sleep next to me, alright?” the child pleaded with Mu Fulan.

Mu Fulan had previously let him sleep on his own.

She lay down beside her son, holding him in her arms, and in the sound of night rain at her ear, coaxed him to sleep.

After a long while, Xi’er stirred in her arms, opened his eyes, and said quietly: “Mother, I didn’t do what you told me. While you were away, I talked to that Lord Xie.”

“Will you be angry with me?”

Mu Fulan was startled, and then shook her head.

She hesitated for a moment, and finally asked the question that had unsettled her heart and occupied her mind for the past several months.

“Xi’er, after he took you away, was he unkind to you on the road? How was it for you once you arrived here?”

Xi’er didn’t even blink before answering immediately: “Lord Xie treated me very well. After we arrived, he was very busy, and I was alone in his house — he had people take care of me. Later he brought me to the horse paddock. I liked the foal, so he gave it to me.”

Mu Fulan was a little surprised. She looked at her son’s clear, bright eyes, and after a moment, slowly let out a long breath, a smile spreading across her face.

She stroked her son’s little cheek and gave him a kiss, saying: “As long as you’re alright. Sleep now — once your wounds have healed, we can go home.”

The lamplight in the window went dark. All around fell into darkness, and the sound of the mother and child talking within the room gradually grew quiet.

The man outside stood a moment longer in the rainy night, set down the ointment in his hand at the door, and turned to leave.

Mu Fulan extinguished the lamp and closed her eyes. She seemed to hear a faint sound of movement outside the door. She hesitated, then put on a robe, rose, went downstairs, and opened the door.

At the doorstep, there was something new.

She picked it up and saw it was a small, delicate medicine vial. She opened the stopper and smelled it — she knew immediately it was a high-quality wound salve.

She held the vial between her fingers and looked around in puzzlement.

In the darkness of the night, the autumn rain fell softly and steadily. Outside the door was empty, the surroundings pitch black — nothing there at all.

The next day, the steward of the Military Governor’s residence who had returned a few days earlier came hurrying to the horse paddock to fetch them.

Mu Fulan took Xi’er and rode in a carriage back to Guzang, bringing the foal along as well.

In the days that followed, Mu Fulan never saw Xie Changgeng appear. He seemed very busy, and she did not ask — she simply stayed in the Military Governor’s residence, wholly devoted to caring for Xi’er.

Children’s flesh heals quickly, and with careful attention, within a few days the wounds on Xi’er’s legs and feet had scabbed over and were slowly falling away, and the weight he had lost from his face quickly returned.

That evening, Xie Changgeng returned from outside, met with a few of his subordinate officials including Steward Liu in the study to discuss affairs, and when everyone had withdrawn, he remained at his desk.

After a short while, a small figure appeared at the door.

The child was lurking outside the half-open door, peering in, watching Xie Changgeng who was still busy inside the study — seemingly wanting to enter, yet not daring.

Xie Changgeng had long since noticed him. Without stopping his brushwork, he said: “Come in!”

Xi’er was startled at first, then came to himself, realized he was being addressed, gave a small sound of acknowledgment, stepped over the threshold, walked in, and stopped in front of the man.

“Something the matter?”

Xie Changgeng asked.

After asking, he waited a good while without hearing any reply, and looked up — saw the little one standing there rigidly, wanting to say something but holding back, and quickly set down his brush.

“Don’t be afraid. If you have something to say, go ahead and say it.”

This time, he deliberately softened his voice.

Xi’er first shook his head, then nodded, and finally said haltingly: “The foal’s wounds are nearly healed. I want to give it a name — call it Little Dragon Horse. Sir, do you think that’s a good name?”

Xie Changgeng was taken aback. He had not expected the boy to come find him for something like this.

For some reason, he suddenly felt a rare sense of gladness rise within him.

He looked at the tiny child standing before him and said with a serious expression: “It was just as brave as you were. That name suits it perfectly. From now on, it will be called Little Dragon Horse.”

Hearing the praise, the little one’s eyes lit up with a shy, pleased delight. “Then it will be called Little Dragon Horse from now on!”

Xie Changgeng looked at the smiling face before him and could no longer resist — he beckoned to him.

Xi’er obediently walked to his side and looked at him.

Xie Changgeng said: “On the night you first came back, I heard what you said to your mother. Why didn’t you tell her that you had been sick while you were here before?”

Xi’er said: “If she knew, she would cry again. And she would get angry at you.”

Xie Changgeng paused, hesitated a moment, then lifted the child and set him down to sit on his knee.

“Before, I brought you here, and you even fell sick because of it. Do you no longer resent me?”

The child was silent for a moment, then tilted his face up and said quietly: “I don’t resent you anymore.”

“Why?”

“You gave me the little horse. And you brought me back to see my mother.”

Xie Changgeng looked at the boy’s lovely eyes — so like the woman’s — and said slowly: “But your mother still resents me very much. The day you went missing, she nearly killed me.”

Xi’er was startled, and immediately shook his head rapidly. “Lord Xie, my mother would never kill anyone! She only ever saves people!”

Xie Changgeng sat the boy up on the writing desk, took off his garment, turned around, and showed him the wounds on his back.

In these recent days, he had been running here and there, and with the wounds being on his back, it was inconvenient to apply the medicine himself — he had not paid them much attention. Moreover, it had rained again two days ago, and not only had the wounds failed to heal, the area around them had begun to show signs of swelling and festering.

“Do you see? She stabbed these.”

Xi’er was greatly alarmed, and his eyes filled with a pained, distressed expression. “Does it hurt very much, sir?”

“It hurts! Not only does it hurt — after getting rained on two days ago, my head also aches badly!”

He gestured for the little one to feel his forehead.

Xi’er pressed his palm against his forehead, then in all seriousness pressed it against his own forehead, and his eyes went wide in an instant.

“Sir, you’re sick! I can’t treat illness! You wait here — I’ll go get my mother!”

He slid down from the writing desk and darted out.

The sky gradually darkened, and the light in the study grew dimmer and dimmer.

The woman’s figure finally appeared in the study doorway.

She walked in, lit the candlestick on the desk, and said to the man who was still bent over his writing: “Take off your clothes.” Her voice was flat and even.

Xie Changgeng set down his brush, stood, silently removed his garment, and turned his back to her.

Mu Fulan stood behind him, examined the wounds, and cleaned them for him — her movements not exactly what one would call gentle. She then took a small silver knife, passed it briefly through the flame, had him lie face down on the desk, and cut away a small piece of the dead flesh from the wound site.

Xie Changgeng lay there on his stomach, both hands gripping the edge of the desk hard, a wave of acute pain shooting through his back. Seeing her cold, detached manner and her hands showing not the slightest tenderness, he truly could not hold back anymore and said through gritted teeth: “If there had been a proper blade nearby that day, you would have used a knife on me instead, wouldn’t you?”