Two days passed. The search area kept expanding, yet not a single trace of Xi’er’s whereabouts was found.

Mu Fulan followed the searchers into the vast and boundless wilderness outside the horse paddock. It was not until the evening of the third day of searching that word finally came — that another squad of soldiers sent out to search had, beside a stretch of marsh several dozen li away, found a child’s shoe.

When she arrived and saw that scene, the blood in her body seemed to stop flowing in an instant.

On the ground lay a tiny shoe. Beside it was a dried bloodstain.

Several soldiers were murmuring about animal hoof prints they had spotted nearby — saying that in addition to hoofprints, there were also wolf tracks.

“…This is most likely a bad omen…”

Their voices drifted faintly to Mu Fulan’s ears on the wind.

Xi’er had been taken away barefoot. Xie Changgeng had obtained a pair of shoes for him on the road. He took the shoe from the soldier’s hands, looked down at it for a moment, and recognized it at once.

“Is this Xi’er’s shoe?”

A hoarse voice reached his ear.

He looked up and saw her staring at him, slowly walking toward him from this direction, questioning him.

Facing the pair of red-rimmed eyes set in a ghastly pale face before him, he found himself at a loss for words in that moment.

He was silent.

“Tell me!”

She suddenly widened her eyes and demanded in a fierce voice.

The sound startled the people nearby. Everyone looked over at the commotion, and upon seeing the scene, all were privately astonished.

Xie Changgeng’s five fingers slowly tightened around the little mud-caked shoe in his hand, and said in a low voice, “Yes.”

From the day Xi’er had been taken away, her heart had not known a moment’s peace. She had traveled all the way here by boat and by carriage, exhausted — and yet what awaited her was news like this.

Over the past several days, she had not known hunger or thirst, nor had she been able to sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, Xi’er’s image would rise before her — the sight of him with his two little hands wrapped around her neck, laughing and calling her mother.

Her nerves had long been stretched as taut as a bowstring pulled completely straight. As the days of Xi’er’s disappearance grew longer and longer, she had come to the very edge of collapse.

But she simply would not think — and refused to think — of any bad possibility.

She had held herself back on one breath, telling herself over and over in her heart: Xi’er is safe. Right now he is simply somewhere no one has found yet, lost. He is still alright.

It was on that one breath alone that she had held herself together until this moment.

And in this very instant, hearing that one word — “yes” — fall from his mouth, it was as though her ears rang with the sudden snapping of that bowstring.

She pitched forward and collapsed.

Xie Changgeng was startled, and by instinct reached out his hand to catch the crumpling body in his arms, calling her name.

Her head lolled softly against his chest, her eyes closed tight, without any response.

He lifted her into his arms, raised his head, and looked at the darkening sky.

They had come too far from the paddock to return tonight. He ordered his men to break off the search, find high ground, pitch tents, and make camp where they were for the night.

The tents were quickly assembled. Xie Changgeng carried her inside and laid her down on the felt bed, then called in the attending army physician.

After examining her, the physician said in a low voice: “The Madam has most likely exhausted herself from the toil. She has been fretting and anguished, and just now received sudden dire news, causing her to faint from the shock. She will wake once she has rested. The Military Governor need not be overly concerned.”

The physician withdrew. Xie Changgeng looked down at the wan face beneath the lamp — shadowed heavily beneath the eyes — and slowly reached out his hand to tuck the corners of the felt blanket more snugly around her.

Early the next morning, just as the sky was barely beginning to pale, Liu An came to find him and asked about the next arrangements.

Xie Changgeng stood outside the tent, gazing out at the misty boundless wilderness in the morning fog, his brow slightly furrowed, and for a moment made no reply.

Liu An glanced at the tent behind him, then said quietly: “We’ve been searching for many days now, and the area is simply too vast — looking for a person here is like searching for a needle in the ocean. Not to mention, yesterday we came across the shoe, and there were wolf tracks nearby. It is nine chances out of ten that the young lord has already met with misfortune. It is not this subordinate speaking rashly — even if we do find him, I’m afraid all that will be left are bones…”

He was still speaking when he suddenly heard a strange sound from the tent behind him, and hastily shut his mouth and turned to look.

Xie Changgeng told him to wait and immediately turned and walked back into the tent.

Mu Fulan’s eyes snapped open.

She lay in a dimly lit tent, covered with a felt blanket — over which was also draped a man’s outer cloak.

Her gaze fell upon the top of the tent. Her five fingers clenched tightly into the felt mat beneath her. She paused for a moment, then sat up bolt upright, flung aside the blanket and the cloak covering her, and walked toward the exit.

She had only taken a few steps when her footing faltered, and her body swayed.

Xie Changgeng lifted the tent flap and ducked inside, and they collided. He reached out his arm and steadied her.

“Go back and rest!”

He looked down at her still-pallid face and said.

Mu Fulan’s gaze was unfocused, vacant — as if she could not even see him — and pushed him aside, continuing to walk toward the exit. Xie Changgeng reached back and grabbed hold of her wrist.

He wrapped his arms around her struggling body.

“If you keep on like this, you’ll collapse yourself!”

His tone was stern.

Within his hold, Mu Fulan was like a willow branch on the verge of breaking.

“He has two shoes! Only one was found! The other one is still on his foot! What gives you the right to say he’s already gone!”

Her eyes red, she struggled with all her might and said.

“Let go of me. I’m going to look for him!”

Xie Changgeng lifted that slight body and pressed her back down onto the felt bed, saying, “Eat something in a moment, then go back!”

His tone was resolute as iron, leaving no room for refusal.

He rose and made to leave.

Mu Fulan fell off the felt bed, stared at his retreating figure, gritted her teeth, pulled the hairpin from her hair, and went after him.

She raised her hand and, with every ounce of her strength, drove the sharp hairpin into his back.

The tip of the hairpin pierced through his clothing and into his flesh, embedding itself in the shoulder bone to a depth of about an inch.

Xie Changgeng’s figure froze abruptly.

She pulled it out and stabbed again.

Another dull thud.

The tip of the hairpin plunged deep into flesh once more. Under her hand, it bent.

He slowly turned his head, brow tightly furrowed, features slightly contorted.

Under his shocked and furious gaze, her eyes red, she shed the tears she had not shed a single drop of in all these months, and said, word by word: “Xie Changgeng, I know this was not your intention. But this is what you deserve.”

“You don’t need to search anymore! I’ll search myself!”

“Get out of my way!”

She shoved the man who still stood there rigid, and walked toward the exit.

Blood was seeping from the wounds on the man’s back.

At first only two dark red spots, soaking through the cloth. Quickly the blood spread wider, rapidly staining outward, merging into one.

Beneath the fabric, a trail of blood slowly ran down his lean waist.

Xie Changgeng stared, unblinking, at the woman now at the tent entrance, bending down to step out — as though the depths of his eyes had been stained with blood as well.

He pressed his lips tightly together, reached out his arm, spread his five fingers wide, and dragged her back in one motion, flinging her onto the felt bed. Before she could scramble up, he pressed one knee against her legs to stop her resistance, then in one hand twisted her arms behind her back, while with the other he snatched up the outer cloak he had taken off and laid over her the night before, bit it with his teeth, and with one pull tore it in two. Using it as rope, he firmly bound her hands and feet separately.

“You’ve gone mad! You madwoman! You dare stab me!”

Xie Changgeng subdued her, then reached back and felt his wounds, looked at the blood smeared on his palm, and said through gritted teeth.

Mu Fulan stopped struggling. Her body curled up like a shrimp, her face pressed against the felt bed, eyes closed, tears rolling ceaselessly from the corners of her eyes, quickly soaking a patch of the felt mat.

Xie Changgeng stared at her, breathing hard for a moment, then said furiously: “You stay put! I’ll have people go out and search again! If the person is truly gone, I’ll bring back the bones for you too!”

He turned, yanked the tent flap open with a sweep of his hand, and walked out.

Liu An had been outside earlier, vaguely hearing the strange sounds from inside the tent — something that didn’t seem right, as though the two inside had gotten into a fight. He was uneasy yet dared not go in, and was standing outside peering anxiously when he suddenly saw Xie Changgeng stride out, his face dark with fury. Liu An hesitated, then went forward to meet him.

“Pass my order: make camp here. Have two battalions transferred over from the nearest Mingwei garrison immediately. All of them are to continue searching. I want him found alive or his body found dead. Search until he is found!”

He barked fiercely, said his piece, and then strode away, ordering someone to bring his horse.

Liu An was taken aback and dared not ask further questions. He acknowledged the order and was about to go make the arrangements when he suddenly noticed that Xie Changgeng’s back was stained with blood. Looking more carefully, the bloodstained garment had two small holes barely as wide as a child’s finger — as though made by some small sharp blade. Judging by the amount of blood, the wounds were not shallow.

He was startled, and caught up to him, saying: “Military Governor, that wound on your back…”

Xie Changgeng grabbed the horse reins his attendant handed over, turned his head, and fixed him with a look. “Go pass the order!”

Liu An was quite certain that just a short while ago, before the Military Governor had entered that tent, he had been perfectly fine from head to toe. Now he came out, and in the blink of an eye, his back had been skewered with two holes.

No need to think about it — the one who had done it was surely the Madam.

That missing child, it was said, was the Madam’s adopted son.

For the Military Governor and the Madam to be at odds over the adopted son’s disappearance was perfectly natural.

What he could never have imagined was that in a quarrel between husband and wife, the Madam — who always appeared delicate and gentle, graceful and virtuous — could have struck the Military Governor with such a heavy hand.

Even more inconceivable to him was that not only had the Military Governor come off badly, he had quite clearly lost the fight.

Seeing him turn his head and look at him coldly, Liu An quickly drew back his gaze and said: “This subordinate will go at once!”

…

Xie Changgeng had someone take the bound Mu Fulan back to the horse paddock first, then called the army physician over to deal with his wounds as best he could, and joined the search himself.

The day passed. Through the night, soldiers on rotation carried torches and continued the search.

Another night went by.

Early the next morning, the soldiers who had searched all through the night returned to the camp in groups under the leadership of their officers, reporting back to him.

Still nothing had come of it.

Xie Changgeng stood outside his tent, gazing into the distance, his mood heavy beyond measure.

He himself had been out searching until deep into the night before returning.

The wounds the madwoman had stabbed into his back were not, in themselves, serious. But the wounds were not shallow either — they reached the bone — and were sore and painful, excruciating in a grinding way. After returning the night before, tired as he was, he had not been able to sleep at all.

Such a tiny child — even if he had encountered no external danger, having been missing this many days, the hunger alone might have killed him long ago in some nameless, desolate place.

This entire area had already been searched thoroughly; there could be no remaining spots overlooked. Since nothing had turned up, today he would shift the search to other areas, to look for the body, or for the other shoe.

He did indeed despise that madwoman, and by extension held no fondness for this child. But thinking that it was precisely because he had forcibly taken the child away that today’s events had come to pass, his heart was also unbearably heavy — and somewhere deep inside, he even felt something like a reluctance to face that woman when he returned.

Another wave of throbbing pain came from his back.

He rolled his shoulder, frowned, and was just about to call someone and order the camp to pack up and move out when he suddenly spotted a fast horse approaching from the distance, quickly reaching him.

It was his attendant Liang Tuan.

Liang Tuan had a small shoe in his hand. Before he had even dismounted, he called out loudly: “Military Governor! My men, on the riverbank, found this shoe!”

Xie Changgeng went to him and snatched it away.

The sole of the shoe had come loose — it looked like it had been unwearable and was discarded.

His heartbeat suddenly quickened. He commanded: “Everyone — all of you — go search along the riverbank!”

…

Through this wilderness, there ran a river, flowing from behind the horse paddock, moving from west to east in a winding, unending course.

That midday, as Xie Changgeng led his men upriver along the bank, he stopped his horse.

He saw before him, at the very edge of his vision, the figure of a person and a horse.

The person was small, the horse was a foal.

One person, one horse, stumbling along in weary steps, moving upriver along the bank in the direction of the horse paddock.

“The young lord! It’s the young lord!”

Liang Tuan’s eyes lit up, and he let out a great shout, spurring his horse after him.

The child up ahead, who had been shuffling along, heard the shouting and calling coming from behind, and stopped. He turned around and stood there, motionless.

Xie Changgeng galloped up to him on horseback, reined in, and looked over.

The child’s face was filthy, his clothes in tatters, terribly thin. Apart from a pair of clear black-and-white eyes, hardly a spot on his face or body was clean.

His two bare feet were covered in wounds and streaks of dried blood. In his hands, he still gripped tightly a sickle from the horse paddock.

The foal that had traveled with him had several wounds on its backside, scabbed over as though it had been bitten or torn at by something, and stood behind him, leisurely nibbling at a few clumps of wild grass growing at the water’s edge.

The child had been shuffling alone when he suddenly saw this group of men galloping toward him on horseback. He recognized them. At first his face broke into an expression of overwhelming delight, and he was just about to come running toward them — but the moment he noticed that Xie Changgeng’s gaze was fixed hard and unmoving on his own face, with an utterly peculiar expression, he stopped in his tracks. The smile on that dirty little face slowly faded, replaced by a look of unease in his eyes.

“…Military Governor, sir… I didn’t try to run away on purpose… I got lost… I found the riverbank and was trying to get back to the paddock…”

“Please don’t be angry, sir…”

His two little feet were pressed together, his toes curling up nervously. His eyes fixed on Xie Changgeng, he opened his mouth timidly.

Xie Changgeng felt as though something warm were slowly overflowing from within his chest — for a moment, he could not even feel the pain in his back anymore.

He swung off his horse, strode to the anxious child, bent down, and slid his hands under the boy’s arms — and hoisted him high above his head.

“I’m not angry. I’ll take you back right now!”

He said, and finally set him down, then with one arm held the child close and lifted him up onto his horse, following him up.