What kind of woman was she, exactly?

Li Xuandu, looking at her smiling so brightly before him, her curved eyes sparkling with light, suddenly felt this thought rise from the depths of his heart.

He had once disliked her scheming and calculating mind. Later, her indifference and heartlessness had cooled his own feelings.

More than once he had told himself that he would help her fulfill her wish and fulfill his own duty as her husband — who had made her already his? In this lifetime, unless she was the first to leave him and abandon him, for his part, it was impossible for him to cast her aside… But he would not allow himself to fall into the same trap again or have any additional entanglement with her.

In truth, he was also a little afraid of her. Although he was too ashamed to admit this, Li Xuandu knew very clearly in his heart that he was truly a little afraid of her — afraid of that tenacious, determined quality she carried, the kind that would not stop until she had achieved her goal.

Facing a woman like that, he was truly unable to hold his ground. He knew this from deep experience.

That night at the Fulu relay station, even though he had steeled himself and refused her, if she had pressed herself against him again that night, he truly could not guarantee that he would have been able to push her off him a second time.

But tonight, not only had she apologized to him, she had actually appeared so happy just because of this small offhand promise he had made.

He could see that she was genuinely happy.

At this moment, she was just like… a child who was, in truth, very easy to satisfy, very easy to coax.

What was the real her like?

Li Xuandu suddenly felt confused.

He was staring at her again without saying anything, seemingly starting to drift off.

Pu Zhu stopped smiling and hesitantly asked: “Your Highness, what are you thinking about?”

Li Xuandu came back to himself and would naturally not let her know what he had been thinking. He said vaguely: “Nothing.” Then he fell silent. The tent lapsed into quiet again.

He sat cross-legged; she was still kneeling beside him. Between them a single candle flame leapt soundlessly, and around them there was only the distant sound of the night wind — mournful and wailing like the howling of ghosts and monsters.

“You wrapped it very well.”

After a while, Li Xuandu suddenly raised that hand, flipped it over to take a look, and offered the compliment.

“I’ve been learning from Guard Commander Ye how to dress and bandage simple wounds.” Pu Zhu replied.

Ye Xiao was now the Protectorate’s Guard Commander. Since they had set out, during the evenings when there was nothing to do, Pu Zhu had been consulting him and learning from his experience in this area.

He gave a sound of acknowledgment and nodded, then fell silent again.

Pu Zhu stole a glance at him.

His eyes were fixed on the small candle flame before the two of them, his figure motionless.

She hesitated, then suggested: “It’s not early anymore — shall we rest?”

He seemed to let out a breath of relief and nodded immediately: “All right, you rest first — I’ll go out and do one more check.” That said, he stood up and walked out.

Pu Zhu lay alone on the sleeping mat. A long time passed, what seemed like the middle of the night, before she finally heard the quiet sound of him returning. He lay down, flat on his back beside her without undressing, and seemed to sink into sleep.

Pu Zhu relaxed and fell asleep quickly, dreamless through the night.

The next day, the party began to enter the heart of the desert.

This was the most treacherous stretch of the journey after exiting Yumen Gate, traveling westward across natural terrain. Besides having no water source — they had to carry all the water needed for the entire party for five or six days — they also had to guard against quicksand and sudden windstorms that could appear at any moment. Among these, the “Ghost Domain” — spoken of with changing faces by traveling merchants who came and went — supposedly haunted by monsters that swallowed people alive, was located somewhere in this area. Fortunately, the guide was experienced, and Li Xuandu had passed through twice himself. Plus they had made thorough preparations before entering. So although the journey was arduous, there were no accidents. After walking for five days, they at last reached the edge, and just as everyone was gradually relaxing, that night their luck ran out — a great wind kicked up.

A fierce wind carrying countless grains of sand blew through the night, and when dawn came it still had not stopped — blotting out the sky and blocking the sun, as dark as night.

Since the previous evening, Li Xuandu had already led the entire party to retreat behind a massive weathered mound of earth that jutted out above the surface, using it as natural shelter against the wind and sand.

The wind was too powerful — even sheltering behind this natural windbreak, tents could not be erected. Li Xuandu tucked Pu Zhu into a large leather sleeping bag and had her spend the night inside.

Outside, sand flew and stones hurtled, the sky and earth transformed beyond recognition. Pu Zhu hid in the bag and sensed that Li Xuandu was right there beside her keeping watch. In her heart she felt an extraordinary sense of security, and she drifted into sleep in a daze. Not only that, she slept so deeply that day and night became indistinguishable to her. It was not until she felt someone patting her face that she woke up, opened her eyes, and found that the windstorm had finally stopped. Above her head the sky was a pure washed blue, the sunlight dazzling — and it was already the next day at noon.

Li Xuandu watched her poke her head out of the sleeping bag with the look of someone who had slept herself drunk, patted awake with her face and still wearing an expression of blank bewilderment as if still in a dream. He was quite in awe of her — that she could sleep so deeply through all this — and could not help feeling a little like laughing. The corners of his mouth twitched slightly. He passed her a water skin, helped her pull out the stopper, and when he saw her take it eagerly, he reminded her: “Not for drinking! Rinse your mouth and spit it out!”

Pu Zhu’s mind had finally cleared. Only then did she realize her mouth was full of sand, and she hastily rinsed it out several times. Once her mouth was cleaned out and she drank a few mouthfuls of sweet water, she turned her head and saw that A’mu and Luo Bao and the others had each gathered over from wherever they had sheltered through the night. Everyone was covered in dust and grime, but fortunately no one was hurt.

Luo Bao had been woken this morning by suffocation — he’d found sand burying half his body, and he couldn’t claw his way out himself no matter what. He’d yelled for help until someone came to pull him free, and he was now sitting flat on the ground, shaking sand out of his boots while telling A’Ju and Nanny Wang: “I heard there are monsters on this stretch of road that pick people to eat! Last night’s wind must have been those monsters stirring things up! Fortunately we have His Highness and the Princess Consort here — heaven’s protection — and the rest of us got to ride their coattails and safely escape the calamity…”

A’Ju and Nanny Wang, hearing this, looked frightened.

Li Xuandu shot Luo Bao a look, and he hunched his neck and immediately shut his mouth.

Li Xuandu told Pu Zhu to continue resting while he went to hear Ye Xiao’s report on the headcount and supplies situation. He was told that the people were still being assembled and no casualties had been found so far. The camel train carrying supplies and the horses that had come along were all present, but more than ten tents had been blown away. Additionally, some of the supplies they had carried were buried under the sand dunes that had piled up overnight. He had already arranged for men to clear it, and once they were tidied up, they could get organized again and set out. Li Xuandu ordered them to eat quickly on the spot, and once everything was in order to set out, aiming to exit the sand domain the next day.

Ye Xiao took his orders and was just about to go see to things when his subordinate Zhang Ting came running urgently to say that the headcount was done — Zhang Zhuo and seven or eight soldiers were missing. Furthermore, one of the camels carrying water and food was also gone, apparently stolen by Zhang Zhuo along with it.

According to the testimony of soldiers who had been sheltering from the wind with him the previous night, two days earlier he had recovered from his injuries and begun to hatch a plan to slip away. He had secretly persuaded others to leave with him and go out into the Western Regions to make their own way — free and easy from then on, no longer subject to this kind of control. The previous night when the great wind arose, it was a heaven-sent opportunity. He took the men he’d won over, stole a camel, and used the cover of the chaos to run away and hide.

Compared to Ye Xiao’s fury, Li Xuandu’s reaction was remarkably calm. He only gazed into the vast white expanse of the distant horizon, ordered that there was no need to pursue them, and pressed everyone to get moving quickly.

Half a day later, when night fell again, Li Xuandu ordered the party to halt and camp for the night.

They would be able to walk out of this tomorrow. The old site of the Western Regions Protectorate at Wulei would be vaguely visible on the horizon. The faces of everyone in the party showed relief. Campfires were lit at the bivouac site, and the aroma of food being boiled drifted slowly on the night breeze.

Suddenly, on the horizon in the direction they had come from, a black speck appeared. It moved toward them, growing gradually closer — it was a camel, galloping this way with all its might, and at last it charged into the livestock of the campsite and knelt down with its front legs, its whole body drenched in sweat, heaving and panting, clearly completely exhausted.

On the camel’s back there was also a man still sprawled across it. It was one of those who had fled the previous night — a man named He Wu. By ordinary days he was also fierce and domineering, and was Zhang Zhuo’s right-hand man. At this moment, however, his face was deathly pale and blank with shock. He rolled off the camel’s hump, looked up and saw Li Xuandu who had come over after hearing the news, prostrated himself on the ground, and said with trembling lips that he had encountered monsters.

Ye Xiao ordered him to explain clearly. Only then did He Wu, still shaking, say: the previous night during the great wind, Zhang Zhuo had said they were almost out of the sand domain, that ahead was a great expanse of oasis, and that there would be no more danger, so they might as well take advantage of heaven’s gift and escape to set themselves up as free men, no longer subject to anyone’s control. He and the other seven or eight had been talked into it, and amid the chaos they stole a camel, ran out of the camp and hid, and when dawn came and the sandstorm lessened, they fled westward toward the front. They thought they would quickly get out, but as they walked and walked, they lost their way. Their water and food were gone, and they still had not gotten out. Finally, they walked into some place they did not know — all around them were earthen mounds in strange, grotesque shapes, and the group had completely lost their sense of direction, stumbling around like flies with no heads. Then suddenly, more than ten monsters leapt out in front of them. They stood upright and were immensely tall, their eyes as large as copper bells, covered all over in hair, and gave off a foul, extraordinary stench. In the ravines between the mounds they ran as if on flat ground. Even Zhang Zhuo and his lot, who were usually brash enough to do anything, could not help being scared witless when the monsters appeared. All of them were seized and taken away. He had been lucky, being at the very back at the time, and had climbed up onto the camel and escaped. He had stumbled around in a daze and finally the camel had carried him back here.

The soldiers, learning that He Wu had come running back, gathered around one after another.

Everyone knew that this stretch of road had sand monsters who preyed on passing merchants and travelers. They had never expected that this time, they would actually be real.

No one could conceal the fear in their eyes.

He Wu’s face was ashen, his eyes vacant. Thinking back on that scene just now, he was still trembling even now. He kowtowed to Li Xuandu without stopping, tears and mucus flowing freely, crying out: “Your Highness, have mercy on me! This small one knows he was wrong! From now on this small one will devote himself heart and soul to the Protectorate and will not dare to harbor the slightest other thought!”

The soldiers muttered quietly among themselves, a buzzing sound everywhere. Those who had in the end not followed Zhang Zhuo in escaping — because they were too afraid of the wind and sand — were all in a cold sweat, counting themselves lucky to still have their lives. While counting their luck, they thought of how Zhang Zhuo had also been a loyal sort by ordinary days, and it was a shame to have met his end this way. By now he must have been torn apart and devoured by those sand monsters — they couldn’t help feeling sorrow at another’s plight. Around them it gradually fell quiet.

Li Xuandu gazed at the distant stretch of desert dubbed the Ghost Domain, his brow faintly creased, lost in thought for a moment. He ordered someone to bring the guide and questioned him about the sand monsters.

The guide’s face instantly turned pale with alarm upon hearing this, and said it was true.

Three years earlier, he had led a Kangju merchant caravan to the capital. It had been an arduous journey of a thousand li, and they had finally reached this place. One evening, two of the party had gone out together to relieve themselves. He happened to be nearby and with his own eyes he saw several sand monsters suddenly materialize out of the darkness and seize those two men, then vanish in an instant. Those two men never returned after that night.

Though so much time had passed, when the guide spoke of that scene, his eyes were still filled with terror.

Li Xuandu turned to Ye Xiao: “What do you make of this?”

Ye Xiao had followed him for many years and immediately understood what he was thinking. He hesitated briefly, then resolutely replied: “This subordinate will follow whatever order Your Highness gives! The sand monsters have been doing harm here for many years. Regardless of whether Zhang Zhuo and the others are still alive at this moment, protecting the safety of passing merchants and travelers is also our Protectorate’s responsibility. If Your Highness gives the order, this subordinate is willing to lead men back and investigate!”

Li Xuandu pondered briefly and said: “I will also go personally — to probe this sand monsters’ lair!”

Ye Xiao immediately stopped him: “Your Highness must not…”

Li Xuandu raised his hand, cutting him off: “My mind is made up.”

The surrounding soldiers heard this and could not help but shudder.

When you faced an opponent on the battlefield, no matter how powerful or ferocious they were, they were still people just like you — nothing much to fear.

But monsters were different. After listening all through the previous night to the shrill, mournful wailing sounds coming from that Ghost Domain, they were already scared half out of their wits. Even now, while they sympathized with Zhang Zhuo, who wanted to volunteer to court death like this?

Furthermore, though everyone also admired the courage of this Prince Qin and Protector-General, they were not like that Guard Commander Ye — they had only been following him for a few days. Why volunteer to take risks with him?

The soldiers were quietly edging backward, each hoping not to be the one pointed to, when suddenly from behind them rang out the voice of a young woman: “Your Highness, please come here — I have something to say.”

The soldiers turned around and saw that the Princess Consort had appeared at some point behind them. They hastily fell back on both sides, opening a path.

Li Xuandu turned his head and saw it was she who had come. He immediately strode quickly over to her, drew her a little further away, and used his own body to shield her, saying quietly: “What are you doing here? Go back!”

Pu Zhu had heard about this matter from Luo Bao a moment ago and had also come over. She stood quietly listening for a while, and when she heard Li Xuandu asking Ye Xiao about it, she guessed his intention was to rid the area of this menace on behalf of the passing merchants and travelers. She had been unable to hold back and called out to him. Hearing him open his mouth right away and try to send her off, she was a little displeased, gave a faint hum of displeasure, and said: “I seem to know a little about the secret behind these so-called monsters. If you don’t want to hear it, forget it.” She made a show of turning to leave.

Li Xuandu caught hold of her hand in a flash. After grabbing it, he instinctively turned his head and glanced at the soldiers behind him. Seeing every single one of them had twisted their faces to stare at this side, he released her hand again.

“I’ll listen. You speak.”

Pu Zhu had played at being difficult, and seeing that his attitude had changed, she let it go. She no longer kept him in suspense and immediately said: “My father left behind a western travel journal that mentioned these so-called sand monsters. It was during my father’s last mission to the Western Regions — he happened to encounter monsters attacking people in the night. He sent men in pursuit and ultimately captured one. They were not monsters at all — they were people. According to my father’s analysis, they were likely remnants of the Great Yuezhi people who had been forced westward a hundred years earlier when the Di people seized their territory. That group of people hid in the Ghost Domain and reproduced over the generations. Their minds had become completely wild, they had reverted entirely to animal state, indistinguishable from beasts, and they fed on human flesh. My father had originally intended, upon his return, to lead men deep into the Ghost Domain to find their lair and wipe them out entirely, so they would no longer continue to harm passers-by. But unexpectedly…”

Pu Zhu stopped.

Li Xuandu seemed to soothe her as he gripped her hand again, said a low word of thanks, then turned back and relayed what she had just said. Finally he announced: “Whoever is willing to go — slaying them will carry the same merit as in battle!”

The soldiers had only feared the monsters. They never expected that the Princess Consort, with her wide knowledge and great learning, would say they were human-shaped wild beings who subsisted on human flesh. Every one of them cursed them roundly, and after that there was nothing left to fear. Moreover, if they went it would count as merit — the whole group exploded. A moment ago each had been thinking of slipping away; now every one was straining with eager excitement, each scrambling to volunteer.

“Your Highness! This small one also wants to go! Please give this small one a chance to redeem my crimes through merit!”

That was He Wu — the one who had been lying on the ground without a shred of color in his face this whole time — who suddenly also jumped to his feet, shoved through the crowd, rushed to the front, and shouted at the top of his lungs. Seeing the others break into loud laughter and mock him for his earlier cowering, he couldn’t help but flush red with embarrassment, gritting his teeth and roaring back: “Before the Princess Consort spoke, when His Highness said he was going to go investigate, how come every single one of you backed up a step? Don’t think I didn’t see it! I was cowering — but how are any of you better than me? At least I know this path! How would I not be able to go?”

The soldiers were rendered speechless and silently ashamed.

Ye Xiao, at heart, had actually been breaking out in a cold sweat, and had only hardened himself and pressed on. Now with the Princess Consort’s words, he was completely put at ease, and immediately said: “Your Highness, Zhang Zhuo and the others may have been captured, but it’s likely they haven’t all been eaten yet. Time is of the essence. This subordinate will select the men and set out right now!”

Since these so-called sand monsters were not monsters at all, Li Xuandu had no need to go personally. He nodded.

Ye Xiao immediately selected his men, had He Wu lead the way, and they turned back and set off into the night.

That night, almost everyone remaining at the camp got no sleep — they waited for news.

Pu Zhu also could not sleep, her heart occupied with worry. She slept fitfully and was up early, and when she rose she sat inside the tent. While A’mu combed her hair, she suddenly heard a commotion coming from outside. She quickly crawled out of the tent, and there in the first light of dawn she saw Ye Xiao’s party returning. Those who had fled the previous night — Zhang Zhuo and his lot — seemed also to have been rescued and brought back.

That Zhang Zhuo, looking deeply ashamed, threw himself at Li Xuandu’s feet and kowtowed repeatedly to confess his crimes.

Luo Bao came running back and told Pu Zhu what he had just heard. He said that Zhang Zhuo and his men had been lucky enough — after being seized and dragged into the wild humans’ lair, there was still some rotting flesh inside that had not yet been eaten, and that had allowed them to keep their lives, not being killed on the spot.

More than that — that Zhang Zhuo, apparently because of his imposing physique and muscular build, had caught the eye of a female wild human. When Ye Xiao found the lair and burst in, Zhang Zhuo was bound up and being forcibly violated. After Ye Xiao rescued him, he had been in such agony that on the road back he had nearly slit his own throat.

“Now that, as they say, is what happens when the wicked meet their match —”

Luo Bao, doubled over with laughter, suddenly came to his senses — how could he be so rude, saying things like this in front of the Princess Consort, such filthy and ear-polluting words! He panicked and slapped himself across the face: “Princess Consort, please forgive this servant! This servant was disrespectful — saying such offensive things!”

Pu Zhu glanced at the tall, upright figure in the distance surrounded by a crowd of people, and pursed her lips in a small smile: “You are forgiven!” She turned and crawled back into the tent to let A’mu continue pinning up her hair.

Sand in her eyes whether they were open or closed; sand in her eyes whether they were closed. She couldn’t wash her hair, and to ensure that the sand in her hair would be a little less each evening when she took it down, her current hairstyle was extremely simple — a gathered bun, secured with a hairpin, nothing more.

But even so, the beauty-loving nature bred into her bones could not be suppressed — even if no one would see it.

After A’mu had pinned up her hair, she rummaged through the small box that held her hairpins for a while, picked out two, and held one in each hand and raised them before A’mu, asking her to help her choose.

“A’mu, help me have a look — which hairpin should I wear? This one, or this one?”

As she was smiling and saying this, she suddenly saw Li Xuandu walk in from outside.

She paused and stopped.

A’Ju also saw him, lowered the hand she had been about to reach out to choose, smiled, bowed slightly, and withdrew.

He stopped where he was — he neither continued walking over nor opened his mouth to speak.

Pu Zhu felt a little awkward, and slowly lowered her hands holding the hairpins. Then she saw him suddenly take a step forward, lean toward her, extend his hand, and from her hand take the one carved with an apricot blossom pattern. He carefully inserted it into her temple hair, and after inserting it, made a slight adjustment to its position. Finally he gazed at her for a moment, apparently at last satisfied, withdrew his hand, and said: “Ye Xiao and the others have just returned. From now on on this stretch of road, there will be no more man-seizing sand monsters…”

Pu Zhu had at first been slightly dazed — she had sat utterly still, neck stretched, letting him arrange things on her head. It was only when she heard him say this that she came back to herself and gave a sound of acknowledgment: “Luo Bao already told me just now.”

He stopped short, as if his moment had been stolen, and then fell silent. After a short pause he said: “Well then, since you already know, I have nothing else to say. Let’s go — it’s time to set out. The road ahead will be easier than this stretch. In a few more days, we’ll arrive.”

He finished speaking and straightened up, walked out of the tent, and left.