That winter, as the year drew to its close, the snow on the Tianshan Mountains lay unusually thick. For more than half a month in a row, not a single soul could be seen on the ancient road. Yet within Jincheng, the atmosphere was lively as never before.
Just before the great snowfall had sealed the roads, the final batch of winter provisions sent from Hexi arrived in time. Besides a thick padded cotton garment for every person, there were cart after cart of fish and meat, and various fruits and vegetables rarely seen there in winter — all in generous quantities, more than enough to last through the cold season. The merchants from Qiubila, wishing to express their gratitude, had also dispatched people to Jincheng bearing many gifts after their return, among which were several carts of grape wine stored in enormous wooden barrels.
The grape wine of the Western Regions had long been known to all as a tribute item, precious precisely because of its rarity. On the last day before the new calendar year, within Jincheng, sheep were slaughtered and cattle cooked, and the City Lord bestowed the fine wine, ordering the soldiers to share it among themselves. Everyone laughed and cheered, celebrating the new year, and the revelry did not cease until deep into the night.
Winter gave way to spring. The ice and snow melted. A letter sent from Tianshan was delivered into the hands of that young man in the palace of the capital.
The letter was written in Mu Fulan’s own hand.
She said she was well in every respect and told him not to worry about her. As the weather grew warmer and the roads reopened, she often went out for walks when there was nothing pressing to attend to. Unlike the hurried comings and goings of years past, now that she had gone deep into this land, she had come to understand that the grandeur of its treasure mountains and the abundance of its resources were beyond what any brush or ink could capture even a fraction of. A few days prior, she had chanced upon the first group of traveling merchants journeying from the east that spring. In conversation with them, she learned that at the start of the year the court had issued an edict to continue reducing taxes, bringing relief to the people, who were moved by the imperial grace. She was quite gladdened by this, and instructed him that while diligent in governing, he must not overwork himself. She also wrote that among the people north and south of Tianshan, the white yak was revered as a sacred animal, and the sight of one was considered an auspicious omen. When the heavy snowfall had sealed the mountains the previous year, one of the soldiers had caught a white yak injured out in the wild and brought it back to the city as a gift for her. After nursing the white yak back to health, she had taken advantage of the warmer spring days to release it back to the open wilderness. Upon departing, the white yak had seemed almost to understand human feeling — it looked back several times before finally wading through the water and going on its way.
In the letter, she chatted on unhurriedly about her everyday life in that place, as casually as one talks of household matters, not once mentioning that man. Only at the very end of the letter did she attach a geographical map of the lands north and south of Tianshan, drawn upon a sheepskin scroll. She noted that the person who had made the map had spent several years traversing every pass and river valley before completing it. The places circled and marked on the map were suggested locations for garrison posts, offered for the court’s daily reference and consideration.
The young man read the letter over and over again. He set it down, then picked up that sheepskin scroll and spread it open across the table. He gazed at it for a long while, then rose and took from a sandalwood chest a long, narrow object wrapped in cloth.
He unwrapped it layer by layer until the cloth fell away, revealing that sword he knew so well — the one etched with blue-green cloud patterns.
He slowly drew the sword, held it horizontal before him, and gazed into the pair of dark eyes reflected in the white blade. Gradually, the rims of his eyes turned red.
……
In June, these few days were the best time to harvest a medicinal herb called Purple Cinnabar Grass. After a few more days, once the flowers bloomed, its medicinal potency would greatly diminish. Xie Changgeng set aside other matters and made a special point of accompanying Mu Fulan out of the city and up the mountain to gather the herb. The two of them set out at dawn, rode on horseback to the mountain foothills, and left their horses to graze. Xie Changgeng told the others in the party to wait at the foot of the mountain while he himself accompanied Mu Fulan on the climb upward.
Below the snowline, streams murmured gently and wildflowers carpeted the ground. The two of them spent their time half gathering herbs and half admiring the scenery, and without realizing it, most of the day had passed. Xie Changgeng noticed she was growing tired from the climb, and as there happened to be a flat boulder just ahead, he told her to sit on it and rest.
Mu Fulan sat on the rock, hugging her knees, and gazed in a daze at her husband’s silhouette in the distance as he scaled the rocky cliffs gathering herbs for her. After a moment, she saw him walking back toward her, and came to her senses. She quickly got down from the rock and went to meet him.
“Is it enough? If not, I’ll go look for more,” Xie Changgeng asked her.
“It’s plenty. Let’s head down the mountain.”
Mu Fulan took out her handkerchief and wiped the sweat beading on her husband’s brow.
Xie Changgeng tilted his head down and kissed her, then said, “If you can’t walk, I’ll carry you down on my back.” His tone carried a touch of intimate teasing.
Mu Fulan smiled, then gave him a push and said, “Who asked you to carry me!” With that she picked up her herb basket and started to walk, but she saw him standing there motionless, his eyes fixed intently on something behind her, as he reached back to take his bow and arrow.
She followed his gaze and turned her head. On the bank of the stream on the far side of the slope, a deer had appeared — a beautiful creature with a lovely coat, standing at the water’s edge with its head bowed, drinking.
Xie Changgeng had already drawn his bow and nocked an arrow, taking aim at the deer.
His archery was unerringly accurate. Once this arrow flew, what chance did this prey that had wandered into his sights stand?
Mu Fulan quickly grabbed his wrist. “It’s a doe. This time of year, a doe’s birthing season has only just passed. If she has a fawn, mother and child would never see each other again. Don’t shoot her.”
Her words had barely fallen when a fawn bounded out from behind the undergrowth, caught up to its mother’s side, and drank alongside her. The doe turned her head and extended her tongue to lick the fur on the fawn’s face — mother and child tenderly at ease with each other, the scene deeply touching.
Xie Changgeng stilled, and slowly lowered his bow and arrow. He saw her watching the mother and fawn by the stream, her eyes unblinking. Even after the doe led her fawn away, she still gazed in that direction. Not daring to startle her, he waited in silence for a long while, until she turned her head on her own, before he reached out and gently took her hand. “Let’s go. Time to head back.”
Mu Fulan gave a soft hum of agreement and followed him down the mountain. Along the way she seemed somewhat lost in thought, and she stumbled on the path. Xie Changgeng was quick-eyed and quick-handed, catching her in one motion, and naturally came to stand before her. He bent down slightly and said softly, “You’ve been gathering herbs all day and you’re exhausted. Let me carry you on my back for a few steps.” Before she could protest, he had already taken her up onto his back.
Mu Fulan did not refuse this time. She pressed her cheek against the back of his neck, not saying a word, and lay quietly against her husband’s broad, sturdy back.
Xie Changgeng carried her just like that, steadily, all the way down the mountain.
By the time the two of them returned to the city, night had fallen. Back at their residence, after bathing, Xie Changgeng carried her to bed and lay down side by side with her, gazing at his wife on the pillow beside him.
Her face was like a lotus blossom. She smiled and said, “Why are you looking at me like that? It’s not as though you’re seeing me for the first time.”
Xie Changgeng’s fingers gently traced over her cheek. “Lan’er, were you thinking of Xi’er today?”
He hesitated, then said, “If you truly miss him, I’ll send you to Hexi tomorrow. You may return whenever you wish — I’ll wait for you.”
Mu Fulan was quiet for a moment, then said softly, “Seeing the deer today reminded me of what Xi’er was like when he was small. I was moved by the sight for a time. Don’t think too much of it.”
Xie Changgeng extended his arm and drew her into his embrace, holding her close, slowly tightening his arms around her.
Mu Fulan nestled against her husband’s chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat, and closed her eyes.
The night deepened gradually. The gentle wife at his side had long since fallen into deep, peaceful sleep. Xie Changgeng thought of how she had looked that afternoon watching the mother and fawn at the water’s edge in their tender closeness, and he was unable to fall asleep for a long while. Not wishing to disturb her slumber, he quietly rose from the bed, went out of the room, and stood on the steps before the doorway. As he gazed at the moon, lost in thought, he heard a knock at the courtyard gate.
He crossed the courtyard and went to open the gate. It was a servant who had come, saying that word had just been passed from the gatekeepers at the city gate — outside the city, a young gentleman had arrived, claiming to be the son of the City Lord’s wife, come to visit his parents, and asking that word be sent in.
Xie Changgeng’s figure went still for a moment, as though he had only just collected himself. He turned sharply, as if about to go back inside, then suddenly stopped, turned again, and strode out through the main gate. He mounted the horse of the gatekeeper who had brought the news and rode at a gallop toward the city gate.
He reached the city gate, dismounted in one motion, and without pausing for a breath, ran out beyond the city gate.
A young man — the night’s darkness tracing out his slender and tall silhouette, the moonlight illuminating his clear and refined features — stood quietly by the roadside. He watched the man who had appeared beyond the city gate and was now running toward him. At almost the same moment, he stepped forward toward him as well.
“Xi’er!”
Xie Changgeng called out to him, his voice at first sounding low and steady. Yet if one listened closely, it was not hard to discern a tremor in it — the depth of his emotion was plain to hear.
The young man gazed at him steadily.
“Imperial Father, I have come to visit my mother,” he said.
“And beyond visiting my mother, I also wish to say this to you — the person named Xi’er has never forgotten that visit here when he was small, and how he once asked you why this place came to be called Jincheng — the City of Gold. He remembers that Imperial Father said to him then: when summer arrives and the snow has fully melted, and the sun shines down, if you stand atop the snow-capped peaks and look below, the city seems as though it is blanketed in gold — and so it was named Jincheng. Imperial Father, you also said that whenever he wished to see it, he could come at any time…”
“Summer has come. I wonder whether Imperial Father is still willing to take me to see this landscape, this city blanketed as though in gold?”
The young man’s voice broke. He slowly knelt down before the man standing before him and pressed his forehead to the ground in a deep bow.
Xie Changgeng stepped forward quickly and raised the young man from the ground.
He looked at the young man before him, his eyes growing gradually warm with heat. He raised his hand and gripped the young man’s shoulders tightly, saying in a low voice, “Tomorrow I will take you to see it. Come — let’s go see your mother first. She was thinking of you today. It took me a long while to coax her to sleep.”
The young man quickly swiped at his eyes, nodded, and followed him in long strides into the city.
……
The young man stayed in this city for three days.
On the third day, it was time for him to leave.
Mu Fulan sat inside the carriage, accompanying him one stretch of road after another, seeing him off again and again, until at last they reached the final point she could travel — just ahead was his temporary resting camp — and only then did she stop.
The young man bowed to bid her farewell, dismounted from the carriage, and with great reluctance turned to look one more time at the woman in the carriage behind him, who was still watching him go. He said in a low voice to Xie Changgeng, “Imperial Father, I am going back now. You must protect my mother well — keep her safe and happy for the rest of her life.”
Xie Changgeng also turned to look for a moment, and nodded with a smile.
The young man finally mounted his horse and departed.
Mu Fulan watched the young man’s silhouette grow smaller and smaller in the distance. When her husband returned and got into the carriage, she asked him, “What were you two saying just now?”
Xie Changgeng looked at her beautiful eyes, which had reddened at the rims, and drew her into his embrace. “I made a promise to Xi’er, to protect you well — to keep you safe and happy for the rest of your life.”
Mu Fulan leaned against her husband’s chest and slowly closed her eyes.
That night, the two of them were as tender as newlyweds, their faces close together in whispered intimacy, and they were entwined with each other deep into the night before finally coming to rest.
Mu Fulan was clearly exhausted to the bone, yet with such a beautiful night as this, she was reluctant to give herself over to sleep. She asked him to tell her a story.
He thought for a moment, then said all right.
“…The story is of some unknown dynasty and era, when the ruling house’s fortune was nearly spent, and the vassal kings across the land rose up in chaos. There was a young man surnamed Xie, given name Changgeng, who came from a background of river pirates. While still very young, he became a great outlaw of the waterways, commanding the heroes of the rivers. Yet his ambitions were plain for all to see, his nature ruthless and sharp — and having some real ability as well, how could he have been content to live his whole life as a bandit? He had long since set his resolve on reaching the pinnacle of the realm and seizing the seat of the Son of Heaven. To achieve this end, he fixed his sights on the royal daughter of the Prince of Changsha on Dongting Lake, intending to make her his wife and use her as a stepping stone to enter officialdom…”
Mu Fulan, drowsy from listening, let out a yawn and said in a half-muddled voice, “I don’t want to hear this one… I already know what comes after… Tell me a different one…”
Xie Changgeng stroked the top of her head where it curled against his embrace, coaxing her, “Listen a little further — what comes after is different.”
He continued, “Now, as for the royal daughter of the Mu family — she was no more than thirteen that year. Though just a small young girl, she had begun her apprenticeship under Master Yaoweng of Junshan at an early age, studying medicine and the identification of herbs under him. On that particular day, she went to Junshan to seek out her teacher. When she arrived before the medicine hut, she was told that Master Yaoweng had a visitor and could not be disturbed, and so she thought to go back down the mountain first. Little did she know that inside the medicine hut, the man who had crossed the river by moonlight the previous night aboard a black boat and was now seated across from the master sharing tea — that man with his unveiled ambitions — his heart was beating with anxious unease, and he had finally waited to see her appear. He could scarcely hold himself back from rushing out after her at once…”
As Xie Changgeng spoke on, he heard not a sound in reply. He lowered his head and found that the person nestled in his embrace had already fallen asleep.
He smiled, stopped himself, and gazed at her sleeping face for a long moment. Then he drew the blanket over her, and held her close as they slept.
At that hour, ten thousand li away, on the edge of the sheer cliff at Junshan on Dongting Lake, night birds roosted quietly in the old cypress — that ancient tree which had once been struck by lightning and consumed by fire, yet had grown back to life.
The bright moon hung in the sky. A clear breeze blew.