On this day, outside the elderly chieftain’s residence in Horse River Valley, tribespeople who had heard the news came streaming in from all directions until the area was packed.
The Military Commissioner of Hexi, Xie Changgeng, had arrived in person today.
It was said that this visit was not only to check on the elderly chieftain’s health, but also to discuss the question of Horse River Valley’s future direction.
People craned their necks to peer at that door guarded by soldiers — some holding their breath in tense anticipation, others whispering among themselves — their faces all wearing expressions mixed equally with hope and anxiety.
If they no longer had to be as confined as they had been before, struggling even to obtain everyday salt, this would naturally be a tremendously good thing.
But for them, generation upon generation had been born, raised, and gathered here, and the land beneath their feet had long since been woven into their very blood and bones. Now facing the fate of being relocated, beyond their reluctance to leave, they were filled with uncertainty and unease about the future.
Everyone waited anxiously.
Moment by moment, time passed. At last, that tightly shut door swung open, and an official attendant came rushing out to announce a piece of news.
After surveying the terrain in person, the Military Commissioner had determined that there was no absolute necessity to relocate all the residents here. He planned to select a site outside the valley entrance to build a frontier garrison and construct an outer fortification, where troops would be stationed and kept in readiness.
The tribespeople were stunned — then erupted into wild, ecstatic joy, with waves of cheers breaking out in all directions.
Amid the deafening cheers, they watched as the Military Commissioner emerged from the door; at his side, the elderly chieftain, supported in a chair, was also carried out.
A stir swept through the crowd. Everyone surged forward, all faces lit with joy.
Xie Changgeng raised both arms and pressed down with his wrists in a calming gesture.
The surrounding crowd gradually quieted.
He stood facing the countless gazes directed at him and spoke: “I, Xie, received imperial command to come here as Military Commissioner — and in the blink of an eye, four years and more have passed. It is thanks to the people’s great goodwill and the soldiers’ devoted service that the Northern invaders have been driven back beyond the northern reaches. Yet the Northern invaders have long coveted our fine lands of Hexi, their ambitions as old as they are relentless and undying. You have dwelt here for generations, as the masters of this land. From the moment I first came here, I knew that without your assistance, I could only be clapping with one hand. Today, my long-held wish has at last been fulfilled — thanks to the elderly chieftain’s enlightened generosity and wholehearted support in helping me repel the invaders. I am deeply moved and grateful. Knowing, too, that one’s native land is difficult to leave, I discussed the matter with the chieftain and reached the decision just announced: to build a fortification at the valley entrance. Once completed, troops will be stationed there to guard it. Among those soldiers, beyond the garrison forces of Hexi, I also hope that willing volunteers among you will come forward and join, that together we may resist the enemy and safeguard the peace of our parents, wives, and children!”
His official robes commanded respect; his bearing was upright and dignified, his gaze keen and bright, his words brief and forceful. The crowd had already felt deep gratitude toward him, and now they were even more deeply stirred, their blood running hot with feeling, as they bowed and knelt before him. The sturdier tribal men clenched their fists and flexed their arms, vying to declare their willingness to join the army and serve under the Military Commissioner.
Xie Changgeng bent down and murmured a few words in the elderly chieftain’s ear.
The elderly chieftain nodded. He straightened up, smiled, and said, “From this day forth, our frontier land of Hexi will gain yet another garrison fortress. As for its name — the chieftain and I have also just settled upon it: it shall be called Wuan Garrison. Through military strength, peace is achieved — the homeland endures forever!”
As his words fell, cheering rang out once more throughout Horse River Valley.
That evening, the tribespeople slaughtered cattle and sheep and set out a great feast to entertain Xie Changgeng and his party. Hosts and guests alike enjoyed themselves to the fullest. When the banquet concluded, Xie Changgeng took his leave and agreed upon a day for the chieftain’s party to come into the city at the Commissioner’s residence to hold a further meeting and discuss matters.
Despite his physical weakness, the elderly chieftain asked again for people to carry him out in his chair, so that he might personally see his guest off.
Xie Changgeng expressed his thanks and declined repeatedly.
“The chieftain’s health is most important — there is no need to see me off. Please be at ease, chieftain: what was agreed upon today will not change!”
The elderly chieftain was overcome with emotion.
“Madam is so righteous and just — and the Military Commissioner, could he be a man who goes back on his word? It was we who misjudged you before, repeatedly rebuffing your goodwill and opposing you, yet the Military Commissioner not only bears us no grudge, but thinks of our clanspeople at every turn and has even, on account of an unrelated person such as myself, allowed Madam to endanger herself on our behalf, troubling her to this extent. I am overcome with gratitude beyond any means of repayment. I wish to forge a blood oath with the Military Commissioner as a testament to my resolve. For as long as the Military Commissioner remains here, even after my death, my sons and grandsons shall carry on this pledge!”
The altar had already been prepared by those in attendance. Once the oath was sworn, Xie Changgeng led his escort out of the valley.
Along the road, his subordinates were in high spirits. Liu An said, “Relocating the tribespeople would not only cost a great deal of silver, but settling their livelihoods afterward would be no small matter either — and if mishandled, it would only create new troubles. My lord’s approach is truly the most prudent: it saves effort, and moreover it can rally the tribespeople to volunteer for the army and join in battle. It is indeed a plan that achieves two gains with one action.”
The others all voiced their agreement. Xie Changgeng, however, said not a word, and his face showed little sign of pleasure. When they reached a fork in the road, he suddenly reined in his horse, gazed into the distance, and said, “I still have matters to attend to. Return to your respective posts, and starting tomorrow, immediately begin preparations for building the fortification and assembling the troops.”
Having given his instructions, he turned his horse’s head and took the branching road leading toward the Northern Mountain Horse Farm, galloping away.
By the time he arrived, it was already quite late. Liang Tuan, the guard in charge, called out the maidservants for him.
Xie Changgeng asked after Xi’er’s diet and daily routine over the past several days. The maidservant answered each question in turn.
“Following the Young Princess’s instructions before she left, the young little lord rests at the hour of the Dog each evening — he is already asleep by now.”
Xie Changgeng stood in the courtyard for a moment, then went inside, gently pushed open the door, and walked in.
He sat down in the chair before the bed and, by the light of a solitary flame, gazed at the child sleeping soundly on the other side of the bed. The tension in his expression gradually eased.
Silence washed over him like still water, and the night grew ever deeper. After many days without proper rest, he now felt an overwhelming weariness, as if surging toward him from the dark depths beyond the reach of the lamplight. Just like that, he leaned back in the chair, tilted his head back, and slowly closed his eyes.
He did not know how long he had been asleep when, suddenly, he jolted awake with a start — those bloodshot eyes snapping open — to see a small figure standing on the floor before the bed.
The child had woken up at some unknown point and climbed down from the bed by himself. He was dressed in his sleeping clothes, his small bare feet standing on the cold floor, reaching a hand toward Xie Changgeng — then, apparently startled by his reaction, the hand froze in midair, the child going completely still.
“Sir Xie… I woke up and saw you had fallen asleep, and I was afraid you would be cold, so I wanted to ask you to come sleep on my bed…”
Xi’er slowly withdrew his hand and spoke in a small voice.
Xie Changgeng was momentarily stunned, then understood. He stood up at once, scooped the child up from the floor, rubbed the soles of his feet with his palm, and set him back into bed.
“I am fine. Do not get cold yourself.” He said in a hoarse voice, and reached out to ruffle the child’s little head.
“Did I wake you?”
Xi’er shook his head. “I woke up on my own and saw you sitting here asleep…”
“If you are tired, just sleep on the space beside me.”
The child readily scooted over toward the inner side of the bed to make room.
Xie Changgeng hesitated, then finally took off his outer garment and slowly lay down.
The child considerately helped pull the covers over him, murmuring, “Mother said you have to protect many people. You must keep well covered, Sir Xie — you cannot afford to get cold and fall ill.”
Perhaps it was the effect of the wine he had drunk that evening, but hearing the child’s prattling words, Xie Changgeng suddenly felt a stifling weight in his chest, quietly surging and rolling.
He reached out to pull the covers snugly over the child as well, and said gently, “Sleep now.”
Xi’er closed his eyes. After a while, he opened them again and said, “I cannot sleep.”
“Why not? If you do not sleep, your mother…”
“She will be unhappy,” he said.
“I just dreamed of her. I miss her and cannot sleep.” Xi’er said in a soft voice.
Xie Changgeng paused.
“Do you know where she is now, Sir Xie?” the child asked.
Three full days had passed, and tonight would mark three full nights as well.
Going by the speed of the party and the westward military road route they were taking, today they should be somewhere near Jialin Garrison — but that was only the very beginning; the distance to the Tianshan Mountains was still long and arduous.
They would still have to pass through Yanzhao Garrison, Ganjun Garrison, Heli Garrison… cross Dudeng Mountain, through pass after mountain pass, then travel several hundred more li to the west, before finally reaching their destination near the solitary city of Jincheng.
“She is on the road. When the time comes, she will return.”
“Go to sleep. It is very late.” He was silent for a moment, then said with a smile.
The child bit his lip, gave a small sound of assent, closed his eyes — and not a moment later, opened them again.
“It is so warm in here, but where will she sleep tonight? If it snows again, will she be very cold?”
That surging pressure in his chest seemed to wash over him again.
Xie Changgeng felt something tighten in his chest, slowly breathed out a long, suppressed breath, and said gently, “Do not worry. There are people traveling with her who will take good care of her, make sure she has a place to sleep, and keep her from being cold.”
Xi’er asked no more questions, only said in a low, dejected voice, “I wanted to go with her. But I did not dare tell her. She would never have agreed.”
“Sir Xie, I dream every day of growing up quickly, so that I can protect her.”
Xie Changgeng’s voice was low and quiet: “Sleep.”
The child gave a yawn, closed his eyes, and at last fell asleep again.
Xie Changgeng did not want to return to the city. But he had to.
First thing the next morning, his subordinates and officials would all be waiting for him at the government office to discuss the matter of the fortification at Horse River Valley.
This was a matter of great importance — he could not fail to return.
He gazed a while longer at the sleeping child’s brows and eyes, then pulled the covers snugly over him, got out of bed, and slipped out of the room with soft, careful steps, his figure disappearing into the night.
On the seventh day after Mu Fulan’s departure, Xie Changgeng did not return until nightfall. The moment he walked through the door, he was informed that his mother had sent word asking him to go see her the moment he returned, saying she had something to discuss.
He had been truly too busy of late, and every day he left early and returned late.
When he was at the Commissioner’s residence, no matter how busy, he would at least drop by his mother’s quarters in the morning — but in the evenings, he simply had no time to spare and had been letting that slip.
He had no idea what matter she had on her mind now.
Xie Changgeng asked the steward, but the steward shook his head and said he did not know, then hesitated and added, “The Old Madam did not seem very pleased. She asked repeatedly throughout the afternoon, and said that if my lord returned, he was to go and see her at once.”
Xie Changgeng hurried over. Entering the room, he found his mother sitting alone on the edge of her bed, a dark expression on her face, looking puffed up with grievance.
Xie Changgeng came before her, greeted her respectfully, and said, “Things have been busy of late, and I was unable to come pay my respects to Mother in the evenings — that was remiss of me. What matter has Mother called me here for?”
His mother seized his sleeve with one hand and demanded, “Changgeng! That adopted son being raised by Mu Shi — what exactly is his relationship to her? Do you know?”
Xie Changgeng glanced at his mother. “What does Mother mean by this?”
His mother lowered her voice. “I have heard that child bears some resemblance to Mu Shi. I started to wonder — could he possibly be Mu Shi’s own? Otherwise, with no blood relation between them, and she being not very old herself, and not necessarily unable to bear children — why would she keep a child she has adopted by her side as though he were a treasure? Even if she truly wished to adopt, who would not choose to take in a child young enough to know nothing of the world? Who would do as she has done and bring home a boy this size, half-grown already?”
A look of suspicion crossed her face.
“I started to think — could it be that the child is an illegitimate child that Mu Shi herself had with some other man, taking advantage of your good nature to bring him home to raise, while telling you he is an adopted son? Changgeng, you must be sure to keep your eyes open and not…”
“Mother! Do you know what you are saying? Where did you hear such things?”
Xie Changgeng suddenly raised his voice sharply.
His mother was so startled she froze — then, coming back to her senses, saw her son’s brow furrowed tightly. She muttered in a small voice, “Never mind where I heard it. The fact is I am doing this for your own good! I was afraid you would be taken advantage of, and I thought of this, so I wanted to warn you. Why are you speaking to your mother this way?”
Xie Changgeng steadied himself and forcibly suppressed the surge of frustration and nameless anger rising in his chest.
“Mother, you are overthinking this — nothing of the sort exists!”
He paused, his tone sharpening.
“You are making unfounded slanders against Mu Shi. If outsiders were to know, it would be the same as bringing shame upon me — surely Mother understands this reasoning? From now on, whether in front of others or in private, do not speak another word of such absurd talk!”
The severity on her son’s face was something she had never seen before. Momentarily cowed, his mother did not dare say anything more, and quickly said, “I know! How would I go out spreading such talk? I was only afraid you would be taken advantage of, so I warned you privately!”
“You have been busy every day lately, barely a glimpse of you — you must be hungry. Feng’er…”
“All of a sudden, what made you think of that child? Did someone in your presence bring it up?” Xie Changgeng cut his mother off and asked suddenly.
His mother started, and hurriedly waved her hand. “No, no! Do not wrongly accuse Feng’er! She never said a single bad word about Mu Shi! It was I who suddenly thought of it myself — I had someone look into it, and found out the child has fine features and actually bears some resemblance to Mu Shi, and I let my imagination run away with me.”
“Mother, please pass a message from me to Lady Qi Shi and to the servant attending upon her…”
As he spoke, he turned and walked to the back of the door, then suddenly flung it open.
Outside the door, Qiuju had been pressing her ear to it and was just straining to listen harder when she heard her name seemingly about to be mentioned — but she was completely unprepared, and with a loud thud crashed headfirst over the threshold. She looked up to find Xie Changgeng standing right before her, his two eyes fixed on her with an icy gaze. Her face went white, and ignoring the pain, she scrambled up in a panic, knelt down, and knocked her head to the floor in repeated bows, stammering, “Just now… Lady Qi told me my lord had returned and made some late-night refreshments, and sent me to inquire…”
Xie Changgeng said, “Go tell Lady Qi Shi this is my warning to her. Regardless of the intent, this matter ends here. I do not wish to hear another word of this baseless rumor-mongering.”
“Yes, yes, this servant will go say so immediately!”
Qiuju scrambled up from the floor and backed away in a flustered retreat.
Xie Changgeng slowly turned back around, exhaled the breath from his chest, and said to his mother, “Mother, you should rest. Your son still has matters to attend to and must go.”