A Prelude to Wild Sand and Strange Fate
Let us first recite:
Children of the desert, enmity fades,
Lamenting life’s brevity in this mortal realm.
No divine mercy in sight,
Tears scatter in dreams over wine.
Wild sand gusts, wind follows;
Strange fate unfolds, and regret ensues.
How to forget? Our fleeting ecstasy!
Fearless wandering is most carefree,
Drinking without remorse for a kindred spirit.
Who doesn’t cross the River of Forgetfulness?
Yet we fail to accompany each other.
Wild sand leaves no trace, nor does the wind;
Strange fate brings no regrets, nor does hatred.
How to remember? Our vows turned to ash!
Chapter 1: The Praying Woman
The yellow sand finally buried the footprints left behind, along with the two furrows carved by the wheels. Gradually, Huang Beishuang’s caravan was left in the wind, as if foretelling the traceless vastness and despair awaiting at the end of this road.
Enough. Let there be no more evidence that she had ever traveled such a path.
Her eyes flickered momentarily, their light finally retreating behind the pearlescent canopy. The corners of her mouth twitched slightly as if about to burst into wild laughter—her name was Huang Beishuang, a girl who lived in the wind.
Born in this vast desert where the yellow earth meets the sky, people had long grown weary of fighting for survival, though fate often refused to cease without seeing blood and tears. Thus, no one bothered to investigate when exactly the humiliation began. Long, long ago, before her grandmother and great-grandmother were born, this desert had already formed the current landscape of five nations. Five warlike tribes firmly controlled large oases and water sources, establishing armies and governments, calling themselves “nations.” Consequently, the remaining three hundred or more surviving tribes, including the E’naqi, were all reduced to slavery. Most of these “slaves” were scattered across the endless yellow sands as lowly commoners, and despite their difficult and desperate lives, they still trembled with hope for survival.
However, as several springs and autumns passed, some tribes still became extinct in this boundless desert. This was not merely due to the harsh desert environment; what they feared more was always the ravages from the powerful tribes. For this reason, they had to contribute their winter food supplies, warm clothing and bedding, weapons to fend off wild beasts, camels and horses for traversing the desert, and even their beloved children, even if it would break their hearts and devastate them. For what? Just for a moment of stability, just to catch their breath in this vast world of swirling sand.
Among the slave tribes, the four with the largest populations and most influence were the E’naqi, Zhiken, Zhenqu, and Nako’er. Although they all belonged to the poor class, they had always been at odds with each other, often fighting over land, camels, and horses. However, the outcome of these conflicts was never decided by them, but by the ruling tribes they relied on. The so-called ruling tribes naturally referred to the five tribes with oppressive and expansionist tendencies—Yunpei, Guhe, Mizan, Tiandu, and Masui. Among them, Yunpei was the most powerful and, naturally, the most unreasonable.
Yunpei possessed nearly a quarter of the oases and water sources in this desert. For three hundred years, they had flourished without decline. To date, they had thirty-five kings and two queens, maintaining an unbroken lineage, complete policies, and national peace and prosperity. Setting aside some tyrannical behavior, Yunpei was indeed a place where merchants and scholars from various countries and tribes flocked for trade and study.
It’s only a pity that the prosperity of one tribe is often built upon the poverty of hundreds of others.
“Oh!” Huang Beishuang, sitting in the small camel-drawn carriage, was jolted back to reality by a sudden bump from outside. She smiled self-mockingly, then seemed to think of something. She lifted the curtain with one hand and called out to the old woman following the caravan, “Duozai, would you sing a song for me?”
The old woman turned to look at Huang Beishuang, her eyes dimming for a moment. She replied helplessly, “Na Xiu’er, don’t listen to that anymore. It’s not suitable for you. Nanny knows you’re still hurting, but you’re Na Xiu. Don’t let yourself fall into melancholy.”
The old woman had lost many teeth, making her speech somewhat unclear, but it was still rhythmic and forceful. This was not surprising, as she had once been the dedicated shaman of the E’naqi tribe, accustomed to speaking in a high and spirited tone. Her shaman’s name was Duozai, and she had once had five sons and three daughters. Unfortunately, her life had been full of misfortune. Four of her sons had been tortured to death in slave camps, and two of her daughters had been given to nobles for entertainment at banquets. Now she was left with only one son, one daughter, and a body of skin and bones. She had no teeth, and the deep corners of her eyes always seemed to glisten with tears, crystal clear and sorrowful.
Huang Beishuang leaned against the window, reaching out to touch a strand of Duozai’s hair, asking softly, “Duozai, tell me, why are you willing to come as my dowry nanny? Don’t you know this is a journey of no return?”
Duozai didn’t answer her, just hunched her back and walked with a shuffling gait. The wind and sand had turned her lips black and chapped, and fine dust had settled in the wrinkles of her face. Perhaps she had long grown accustomed to such hardships, as she just kept looking into the distance, shuffling along.
In the flying sand and remnant wind, a weathered yet clear song rose, accompanying the E’naqi tribe’s wedding caravan, passing over one yellow mound after another, echoing with heart-wrenching sorrow…
Unknown if the husband will return tonight,
Tonight stars are like water, tonight sand is like ash.
Wife under the warm tent, tears falling face by face.
Unknown if the son will return tonight,
Tonight the moon is like a bow, tonight the wind is like a bell.
Mother under the warm tent, voice by voice lamenting to emptiness.
Heavenly gods! Earthly spirits!
Tonight Yunpei drunk on wine,
Tonight Guhe fragrant with maidens,
Tonight Mizan commemorates the past,
Tonight Tiandu travels afar,
Tonight Masui piles gold and silver!
Heavenly gods! Earthly spirits!
My husband returns tonight, my son comes back tonight;
This grace I must repay, this debt I must return.
When I bear a bride when I raise fair words,
To be sent between heaven and earth, to gain a moment’s drunken respite in wind and rain.
This was a prayer song passed down in the E’naqi tribe, singing of a woman praying for the safe return of her husband and son, hoping they would not encounter nobles or bandits. Even though she was staying in a warm tent, her heart was still filled with despair and sorrow. She feared that the struggles and plunder in the desert would kill her husband and son, so she begged the gods and spirits to fulfill her wish. As long as father and son returned safely when she gave birth to a daughter, she would send her to the nobles, to the enemies, to anywhere, in exchange for a brief moment of peace, to repay the kindness of heaven and earth.
Closing the curtain, Huang Beishuang shut her eyes to listen. In her hand, she still clutched a small pouch containing yellow soil she had brought from her homeland, E’naqi, before her wedding. Soil from her homeland, she smiled…
Her brother was born to inherit their father’s position and become the next E Xiu, leading the entire tribe. Her younger brother was born to fight for food and women, camels, and horses, to become the right-hand man of E Xiu, protecting the tribe. But why was she born to become Na Xiu? Only to become a sacrifice offered by the E’naqi tribe to the gods and spirits.
Huang Beishuang didn’t want to cry, because this was fate, her fate!
Clutching the pouch tighter with both hands, she gradually immersed herself in the song.
Heavenly gods! Earthly spirits!
My husband returns tonight, my son comes back tonight;
This grace I must repay, this debt I must return.
When I bear a bride when I raise fair words,
To be sent between heaven and earth, to gain a moment’s drunken respite in wind and rain.
This world is a chaotic blend, evolved to this point. Sometimes, it’s the forging of cause and effect; sometimes, it’s the result of fateful encounters. Regardless of which, there’s always unspeakable helplessness and endless entanglement. It’s just that love often comes unintentionally, partings often occur in moments of deep emotion, and lingering resentment often follows bone-deep pain…