After leaving Liancheng, Xie Changgeng did not take the same road back to Hexi at once. Instead, he turned onto a different path heading toward Wuzhou, which bordered the Sanmiao territory, intending to take a shortcut and first make a side trip to his ancestral home in Xie County, Kuizhou — to look in on his mother, whom he had not seen in a long while — before returning to Hexi.

By dusk, the horses had been galloping all day with only brief rests in between, and their strength was beginning to flag. Xie Changgeng ordered them to slow their pace. At that moment, a mount ridden by one of his attendants suddenly let out an uneasy whinny, its front hooves rearing high. If the attendant had not been an excellent horseman, the man would surely have been thrown off.

The attendant was startled, forcibly bringing the horse under control. He raised his riding crop, about to lash the horse onward, when he suddenly felt a faint swaying. He turned his head, saw the branches and leaves of roadside trees rustling and shaking, and crows and sparrows in the distance stirring into agitated flight, and immediately understood.

“My Lord! An earthquake!”

Xie Changgeng had already sensed the anomaly. He swung down from his horse, ordered his attendants to dismount as well, and the group stopped at the roadside, steadying their frightened horses. Once the tremor passed and the surroundings grew quiet again, they continued on. After a stretch of road, they came upon a small earth god shrine by the roadside. Perhaps due to its extreme state of disrepair — having fallen into neglect over many years — it had not withstood the recent earthquake and had half-crumbled to the ground.

The party rode past it. Then suddenly, from behind them came a faint voice crying for help.

Beneath the rubble, it seemed someone was trapped.

“My Lord?”

An attendant looked toward Xie Changgeng.

“Get the person out.”

Xie Changgeng halted his horse, glanced back, and gave the order.

All the attendants dismounted, rushed back, and working together they lifted away broken timbers and cleared the rubble, pulling a person out from underneath.

The person was a middle-aged man, covered head to toe in dust and grime. One of his legs had been pinned by a roof beam. When he was pulled out, he was lying face-down on the ground, still clutching a bundle tightly to his chest.

The attendants stanched the injured man’s bleeding and bandaged his wound. The man gradually recovered his senses and explained that he made his living as a small trader on the road; he had been away from home for over a year, had finally saved up a little money, was longing for his wife and children at home, and had set out this time to go back and visit them. Toward evening, he reached this spot, hungry and with weary legs. Seeing the dilapidated shrine, he went in to rest a while and eat something before continuing on his way — only to encounter the earthquake. He had no time to escape, and was trapped beneath the collapsing roof. It was fortunate they had come along; otherwise it would most likely have meant his death here.

Xie Changgeng asked the man about his home and learned it was a village that he and his party had passed through earlier in the day’s ride — several tens of li back.

“I beg you, benefactors — could you please go to my home and send word? My household has only a woman managing things alone with the children; I don’t know how they are now.” The man pleaded without cease.

Xie Changgeng glanced at the darkening sky, hesitated briefly, then had his men lift the man onto a horse and turned back with him.

By the time they entered the village, the night was pitch black.

Most of the homes in the village were intact; aside from some cracked walls, the damage was not significant, and the villagers’ panic had gradually settled into calm.

The injured man’s wife had weathered the evening’s earthquake with her children. Though they were unharmed and their home had suffered nothing worse than a few broken bowls and plates, she still harbored a lingering fear, and had not dared to sleep — keeping watch over the night with her two children. Then suddenly she heard her husband’s voice calling from outside. As if in a dream, she rushed to open the door, and there he was — home at last after so many years away — though covered in blood. When she heard the full account of what had happened, she wept and laughed at once. Once she had helped him inside, she was overcome with gratitude toward Xie Changgeng and his men who had saved her husband. With her children, roused from sleep, crying out “benefactors,” she wanted to kneel and prostrate herself before them.

Xie Changgeng asked her to rise and inquired whether there were any empty rooms available to lodge in for the night.

The woman agreed at once, quickly tidied up a spare room, and knowing they had not yet eaten, efficiently prepared a pot of food and brought it out.

Xie Changgeng called his attendants to eat together with him.

Nearby, the man called his wife to undo the bundle he had brought home. She opened it and saw that besides toys he had bought for their children, there was also an exquisitely crafted silver hairpin with a flower-head. When she learned he had bought it especially as a gift for her, she was delighted, though she scolded him in the same breath for spending money so carelessly. The man said that once he had earned a proper fortune, he would replace it with a gold one. He sighed, saying that he was away from home all year round, and that everything inside and out was managed entirely by his wife; now that he had returned and seen her, she had grown considerably thinner.

His wife said it was he who was exhausted from traveling about outside, and that she herself had suffered no hardship, only that she missed him dearly day and night, and that when she had suddenly seen him return just now, it had felt like a dream. As she spoke, her voice gradually thickened with emotion.

The group sat together eating by the dim glow of an oil lamp on the table. The private murmuring of the husband and wife next door drifted faintly through the thin wooden partition separating the rooms.

Several of Xie Changgeng’s attendants were all bachelors. Hearing that kind of intimate exchange between a husband and wife, they could not help but exchange glances, and instinctively looked toward their lord.

Xie Changgeng’s face was expressionless. He met their eyes, and they quickly bowed their heads again and continued eating.

Xie Changgeng finished in a few bites and set down his bowl and chopsticks.

A moment later, the woman came over; the traces of tears still lingered at the corners of her eyes, but her face was brimming with a smile she could not conceal. She asked if they had eaten enough, and if not, she would go steam a few more flatbreads and bring them over.

Xie Changgeng said he was full and thanked her. When the woman had cleared away the bowls and chopsticks and left, he told his attendants to take the time to rest, then lay down himself, still dressed.

The room fell into darkness. The night grew slowly deeper — it must have been the third watch by then. Xie Changgeng suddenly heard an unusual commotion from the room next door.

Though the sounds had been suppressed to the utmost quiet, the creaking of the bed frame under strain, and the natural breathing sounds of a man and woman, still bored through the wall and entered his ears with perfect clarity.

The attendants sharing his room had been worn out from a full day’s riding. After eating their fill and lying down, knowing this place was safe and there was no need for vigilance, they slept soundly, one snore after another, completely oblivious.

Xie Changgeng closed his eyes and turned over.

The sounds from next door finally ceased. Quiet returned to the room, all the world still, with only a few distant barks from some dog of an unknown household drifting through now and then.

Xie Changgeng had just driven from his mind the scenes that had surfaced unbidden — of himself and Lady Mu in earlier times together — when, without knowing why, his thoughts turned to what this household’s wife had said to her husband, home after so long an absence, words he had overheard during the meal. Already restless and irritable, unable to sleep, his mood grew even bleaker. He lay awake virtually the entire night. Only as the fifth watch approached did a wave of drowsiness at last steal over him, and in a drifting half-sleep, he had a dream — of the crumbling shrine by the road from the evening before, but the person beneath the rubble had changed: it was not the man from this household, but a woman.

He turned the woman over, revealing her face, and recognized it was Lady Mu. Her eyes were tightly closed, her lovely face drained of all color.

“Lady Mu!”

Xie Changgeng was startled, and cried out before he could stop himself. Seeing she made no response — as if dead — his chest lurched in panicked confusion, and he snapped his eyes open. He threw himself upright in one sharp motion, turned his head, and saw the paper of the window suffused with a dim and hazy light — dawn was almost here. Only then did he realize he had been dreaming.

The attendant sleeping nearby had been startled awake by his cry. He had not heard it clearly and assumed his superior was summoning him.

These men were well-trained in their daily routines. This attendant had not yet opened his eyes before his hand instinctively seized the blade kept at his side, and he sprang up from his bedroll in a single movement.

“My Lord, what is it?”

The remaining attendants were also roused one by one, sitting up. By the faint light of early dawn, they saw him sitting motionless, his silhouette somewhat rigid.

Xie Changgeng felt his heart still beating somewhat fast. He slowly turned his head, found several pairs of baffled eyes all fixed steadily upon him, realized he must have spoken aloud in his dream and woken his men, and waved a hand, saying simply: nothing.

The household woman knew they would be on the road early and had risen before dawn to prepare a meal.

Xie Changgeng had little appetite. He ate a few cursory bites, told his men to leave some money after they finished eating, and stepped out of the courtyard himself.

When the attendants had finished eating, they led out the horses tethered in the courtyard overnight, ready to depart — only to find him standing at the edge of the wild road, facing the distant mountains veiled in morning mist, his silhouette utterly still, as though deep in thought.

No one dared disturb him. They stood to the side and waited.

Xie Changgeng weighed the matter in his mind repeatedly, deliberating at length. Finally he made his decision. He turned around, took the reins from one of his attendants’ hands, mounted, and ordered them to turn back.

The image from the dream at daybreak lingered too vividly.

The woman’s appearance — as if lifeless — was still before him now, impossible to erase.

He did not know much about this woman, and had never had time to devote much thought to her before. But based on the sense he’d gotten from their previous dealings, he judged that after he had left, she would certainly have gone straight back to the Sanmiao territory to continue treating the sick on behalf of the people there.

The terrain there was nothing like level plains. In an earthquake, danger lurked at every turn.

Better to go back and take a look — to see whether she had truly died.

If she was truly dead, all the better; it would all be settled, no more trouble after this, and going back this once would not waste much time anyway.

His attendants were at a loss, but having received their orders, who would dare ask more? They mounted up and followed him as he turned back.

Xie Changgeng did not go to Liancheng. He went directly into the Sanmiao territory. They rode until midnight, camped in the open in the wilderness to rest, were back on the road again before dawn, and by midday had finally encountered, on the road, a Sanmiao boy named Wuji who could speak Chinese. He asked the boy for news of Mu Fulan.

Wuji said, “I know the Lady! The earthquake days ago — many people in Liyang were hurt, and she’s right there! I was in Liyang yesterday and I saw her myself!”

Since the boy had seen her in person, she was most certainly safe and unharmed.

His dream had indeed been nothing but nonsense.

Xie Changgeng had half a mind to leave it at that and turn back, but now that he had come this far, going back just like that left him feeling somehow… reluctant.

He hesitated, thinking that seeing with one’s own eyes was more reliable, and so told an attendant to give the boy some money in exchange for guiding them there.

Wuji did not want money. His eyes were rolling about, fixed on a dagger handle peeking out from the boot-top of one of the attendants.

The attendant pulled out the dagger and handed it over.

Wuji tested the edge; his eyes lit up brilliantly. He tucked it carefully away on his person and said happily, “Come on, I’ll take you there right now. From here to Liyang normally takes more than half a day, but running into me means you’re lucky. No one here knows these roads better than I do. I know a shortcut that almost nobody uses.”

Wuji not only knew the roads well, he was also very talkative. It was plain he held a great deal of respect for Mu Fulan; as he guided them, he spoke on and on about all the ways she was wonderful, and mentioned that she had helped treat his mother’s illness recently.

Xie Changgeng said not a word.

Wuji glanced at him, then seemed to remember something, and asked, “Right, I haven’t asked yet — what are you to the Lady? What business do you have with her?”

Xie Changgeng glanced at the attendant beside him. The attendant spoke on his behalf: “My Lord is the Lady’s husband. Naturally he has business bringing him here. Hurry up and guide the way!”

Wuji, however, gave a start. He stopped in his tracks, stared at Xie Changgeng and the men around him for a few moments, and let a look of suspicion creep into his eyes.

“Why have you stopped?” the attendant urged.

Wuji pulled out the dagger he had just tucked away and tossed it on the ground. “I don’t want your things anymore. I don’t know the way either!” He turned and bolted as soon as the words were out of his mouth.

Though this boy was lean as a little monkey and wove about running at great speed, he was no match for the men at Xie Changgeng’s side. He was caught and brought back in no time at all.

“Everything was perfectly fine — why are you refusing to guide us now?”

Xie Changgeng asked him.

Wuji said nothing.

The attendant holding him had a volatile temper and reached out, seizing the boy’s shoulder. Wuji winced in pain and fell to the ground. His eyes brimmed with tears, but he remained stubbornly defiant and declared, “You’re bad people, you lied to me, you must mean harm to the Lady! I’m not taking you to find the Lady!”

Xie Changgeng signaled the attendant to release him, walked over himself, and crouched in front of the boy, saying with a smile, “How did I lie to you? Go on, tell me.”

“I heard my mother and the others gossiping about it last time — they said General Yuan is the Lady’s ‘ba long,’ that the two of them are a match made by heaven and earth.”

Wuji declared aloud.

Xie Changgeng narrowed his eyes slightly. “What does ‘ba long’ mean?”

“‘Ba long’ is what you Han people call a husband. If General Yuan is already the Lady’s husband, how can you also be her husband? Isn’t that just lying?”

All the attendants were stunned. They stared at Xie Changgeng one by one. Seeing his expression stiffen, not a single one dared breathe.

Wuji saw the look on his face and was somewhat frightened himself, not daring to utter another sound, and watched him carefully.

Xie Changgeng slowly rose to his feet. He faced the direction of Liyang and stood for a moment. Then he suddenly turned around and strode away.

The attendants, seeing him leave, naturally released Wuji and followed after him.

The group retraced their steps to the main road, mounted their horses, and headed back in the direction they had come from.

Xie Changgeng said not another word. He spurred his horse on the whole way. Toward evening, he reached the fork in a road and stopped.

The fork split in two. The left path led to Liancheng; the right was the direction they had come from.

Xie Changgeng sat on horseback for a long while. Then he turned his head and said, “Wait here for me.”

Having said so, he turned his horse’s head toward the direction of Liancheng and galloped away.

——

Since the earthquake, Nanny Mu had been afraid further accidents might occur. These past several nights, she had not dared to sleep soundly and had set up a makeshift bed in front of the young lord’s bedside, taking turns keeping watch through the night with a few maids.

Last night she had kept watch for the first half of the night. The second half was Zhuyu’s turn. The maid was leaning on the couch when she heard footsteps approaching. She opened her eyes, and there in the gray light of early dawn — quite without warning — Xie Changgeng walked in. Without a word, he went straight toward the young lord who was sleeping, and she was so startled she scrambled to her feet and called out after him.

Xi’er was woken by the commotion. He opened his eyes in a daze, and saw that the man who had visited several days ago had come back.

He stood right by the bedside. In the dim light of early dawn, his silhouette was like a towering black mountain peak, pressing down toward the boy.

Xi’er scrambled up from the covers at once, and before he could even sit steady, Xie Changgeng bent down, scooped the small figure on the bed up inside the quilt — wrapping him head and all — and then, as though catching a little chick, lifted him by his bundle and strode out the door at a great pace.

“Lord Commissioner!”

The maid was horrified. She took several steps in pursuit, saw that he did not look back, that he was already out of the room, and knowing she would have no hope of stopping him, she turned in a panic to go find Nanny Mu.

Dawn was just breaking in the east. A single horseman came galloping toward the city gate, drawing closer by the moment.

The gate guards saw that Xie Changgeng had come back out so quickly and understood he intended to leave. Though they were puzzled by the bundle on the saddle before him — something still wriggling and squirming, apparently a child — they dared not ask questions. Just as they were about to open the gate and let him through, a roar suddenly came from the distance: “The gate must not be opened! Stop him!”

The magistrate of Liancheng arrived before the city gate with a great troop of guards and soldiers on horseback, ordering everyone to line up and block the gate. He dismounted and ran breathlessly up to Xie Changgeng’s horse, saying: “My Lord, the Lady is not here — you cannot take the young lord away like this!”

Xie Changgeng swept his gaze over the soldiers standing in his way, then reached into his chest and drew out a square-shaped tablet, which he held up before the magistrate.

The magistrate looked, and saw that what he held was a gold tablet. On its back coiled a dragon; on its front, four large seal-script characters were clearly engraved: “As the Emperor Himself in Presence.”

Xie Changgeng’s expression was grim, and his voice was cold: “When this gold tablet is seen, it is as the Emperor himself — do you not know what that means?”

This gold tablet had been cast at the founding of the current dynasty, granted only on a temporary basis to officials entrusted with special missions or held in extraordinary esteem by the court. Every official in service knew of it.

The magistrate dared not obstruct him any further. He fell to his knees in a panic, bowing his head to the ground.

The soldiers followed, kneeling one by one.

Xie Changgeng retrieved the gold tablet, commanded that the city gate be opened and a path be cleared, and without another word, galloped his horse through the rows of soldiers kneeling on either side of the gate, departed the city, and rode away at speed. His silhouette vanished in an instant into the light of early dawn.