Without noticing when it happened, golden light pierced down through the dense canopy overhead.

Li Kun’s weeping had gradually shifted from heaving sobs to quiet hiccups. The sleeve he had used repeatedly to wipe his tears had long since been soaked a darker color, and even his broad, fan-like hands were covered in tear-stains.

He sat sideways against a great tree, facing away from Shen Zhuxi and Li Wu.

Li Wu sat on a large boulder, legs apart, both hands resting on his knees, watching Li Kun — sorrowful and despairing — without moving, without speaking, in silence through the night. The morning sun fell through the gaps in the canopy onto his bloodshot eyes.

Shen Zhuxi sitting beside him had likewise not slept through the night. She held Li Wu’s hand, silently keeping him company through the quiet pressure of her grip.

As the glorious golden morning sun rose from the east, the heavy stalemate was finally broken.

Li Wu opened his mouth, his voice hoarse: “Have you really thought this through?”

Li Kun didn’t notice, so he asked again.

“…”

Li Kun raised his eyes — swollen like walnuts — and nodded.

“Say it out loud!” Li Wu said in a heavy voice. “Have you thought it through or not — even if you become smarter, you are still you. Are you still choosing to be the way you are now — the way you are for the rest of your life?”

“That’s not me!” Li Kun rebutted loudly, still thick-voiced from crying.

“Then how can it not be you?” Li Wu said. “You still retain all your memories from before. How could you possibly not be you anymore?!”

“It’s different, it’s different! If I put Big Brother’s memories into Piggy, does that make Piggy Big Brother?!”

“That’s a completely different matter! The two of us — me and Shen Zhuxi — were never the same person to begin with!”

Li Wu’s expression was tinged with anger; Li Kun likewise refused to yield an inch.

“Me and the fake Diao’er — we’re also not the same person!” He grew so agitated he cried and stamped his foot, as if he couldn’t understand why Li Wu couldn’t grasp such a simple thing. “The one who wants to pass the military examination — that’s him, not me! The one who protects the weak — that’s him, not me — I only protect Big Brother, Sister-in-law, Third Brother, and Little Rui! The one who likes sleeping in — that’s me. The one who likes eating innards — that’s me. The one who likes playing with ants — that’s me. The one who likes climbing trees — that’s me. The one who likes taro cakes — that’s me. There are so many, so many things he doesn’t like — those are all me…”

Li Kun was overcome with weeping, and his rough hands kept wiping at the tears falling from his eyes. He said, choked with emotion:

“The one who likes Little Rui… is me…”

Li Kun’s grief-stricken, hoarse sobbing lingered long in the vast emptiness of the forest.

Shen Zhuxi looked toward Li Wu with troubled eyes. He sat motionless in silence for a long while, then finally rose from the boulder.

He took Shen Zhuxi by the hand, walked two steps away, then turned to look at Li Kun, who stood in place not knowing what to do, and said with ill-humored exasperation: “Are you coming or not?! I’ll eat my own noodles by myself!”

“Not… not becoming smarter anymore?” Li Kun asked between hiccups.

“No more becoming smarter!” Li Wu said. “This is the path you chose yourself — from here on out, even if you regret it later, you have to crawl through it to the end with me!”

Li Kun was both startled and overjoyed. He struggled up from the ground and muttered:

“I’ll crawl, I’ll crawl, definitely crawl to the end…”

Seeing his irresistibly funny expression, Shen Zhuxi laughed through her tears. When he had walked up to her, she gently patted the dirt off the back of his clothes and said softly, “…Let’s go. Go home together.”

Li Kun smiled through his tear-stained face and nodded vigorously: “Good. Together home we go! Together eat Big Brother’s noodles!”

Li Wu kicked a foot out toward him. Li Kun snickered and sidestepped it, then continued to trail along happily behind them.

A child’s anger: as quickly as it comes, it goes. Li Kun was overjoyed at the prospect of eating his Big Brother’s noodles, and even with the tear-stains not yet dry on his face, the grief and despair of just moments before seemed to have been flung entirely behind him.

Being like a child — perhaps there was nothing wrong with that.

Forever innocent, forever pure, forever unable to harbor lasting resentment, forever unknowing of those things that were beyond one’s control and of words said contrary to one’s heart.

Shen Zhuxi watched the Li Kun before her and gradually let go of the burden she’d been carrying. She reached out with a smile and patted him on the shoulder. Li Kun glanced at her and bent down to bring his head level with hers. Shen Zhuxi smiled and ruffled his hair.

Simply from this alone, Li Kun broke into a satisfied, snickering laugh.

The Li Kun she knew, the Li Kun she had come to love, the Li Kun she thought of as family — was this very Li Kun before her who was happy simply because of a bowl of noodles, and not the Li Kun who had aspired to pass the military examination and champion justice for the weak.

She was coming to understand the Li Kun before her more and more — because the Li Kun of the past was a stranger to both her and to the Li Kun of today.

That Li Kun would not do what the Li Kun of today could do, and vice versa.

Could it then still be said that these two people were the same person?

For the rest of the journey that followed, none of them said another word about treating the condition.

The three of them rejoined the outer patrol unit of light cavalry. Shen Zhuxi and Li Wu shared a horse, and Li Kun received a spare swift horse. Once everyone was mounted, Li Wu held the reins and gave a quiet word to one of the light cavalry riders, then turned his horse’s head and galloped off in the direction opposite the camp. A dozen or so well-trained light cavalry riders swiftly followed.

“Where are we going?” Shen Zhuxi asked.

Li Wu curled up one side of his mouth: “You’ll know when we get there.”

The steed burst through a shaft of golden light. In that light, Li Wu’s face was as dazzling as the morning sun, and the despondency and low spirits of the night before had vanished like dew burned away by sunlight. All along, no matter what setbacks or trials he encountered, he was always able to bounce back this swiftly. Once his mind was made up, he never looked back, never wavered.

He was wildfire. He was the morning sun. Never extinguished. Never falling.

All those who watched him would, in the end, wish to be like him.

To be wildfire, to be the morning sun — even to be the ashes left after burning — anything but a rootless duckweed drifting wherever the current led.

The dozen or so horses galloped at full speed. Before long, Shen Zhuxi caught sight of the towering wooden watchtowers of the Rong tribe’s village. A clear horn sounded. The Rong tribe members on the lookout towers went on high alert — bows drawn, arrows nocked — shouting loudly toward Shen Zhuxi’s party.

Li Wu reined his horse to a halt outside the range of the Rong tribe’s arrows.

After a short wait, the Rong tribe’s drawbridge was lowered. The female clan chief, long spear in hand, came out leading several dozen strong, able-bodied tribespeople.

Li Wu and Shen Zhuxi dismounted in turn and walked out toward the female clan chief.

When they were still about a dozen steps apart, both sides stopped as if by mutual agreement. The female clan chief tightened her grip on the long spear in her hand, her expression controlled and composed.

“You two — come to do what?” Dong Miji stepped forward, his face puzzled. “Found the person?”

“Something has changed somewhat,” Li Wu said, “our deal needs to be renegotiated.”

…

In less than half an hour, a temporary site for talks had been set up. Flecks of light like scattered gold chips filtered through the thatch and branches, dappling Shen Zhuxi where she sat in the simple grass awning.

The soldiers of the Qingfeng Army and the Rong tribespeople sat facing each other on either side of a bamboo mat. With a wave of Li Wu’s hand, steamed buns, vegetable buns, and other provisions were brought out, along with several flasks of wine in leather pouches. When the stoppers were opened, the aroma of wine wafted through the grass awning, making several Rong tribe members unable to keep from twitching their nostrils in succession.

Dong Miji, seated cross-legged, stared wide-eyed at the white, round, plump steamed buns still giving off thin wisps of steam. His right hand resting on his knee moved involuntarily — he wanted to reach for one. He glanced at the female clan chief beside him, who sat without any sign of reaction, and quietly held himself back.

Li Wu gestured for the soldiers to place the trays of food on the bamboo mat, then picked up a steamed bun and bit off a large mouthful. While chewing vigorously, he glanced with a hint of satisfaction at the Rong tribe members who had never seen this food before and said, “Help yourselves. No need to stand on ceremony. We have plenty more of this kind of food.”

After Dong Miji had swallowed his saliva and conveyed the rough meaning to the female clan chief, she murmured something in a tribesperson’s ear.

That tribesperson rose and sprinted back toward the village on his huge, broad feet.

Shen Zhuxi pressed her knee lightly against Li Wu’s, her expression disapproving of his way of showing off their resources. Li Wu seemed not to notice.

Soon, a response came from the tribesperson who had run off.

The Rong tribe’s drawbridge was lowered again. A large number of Rong tribespeople filed out, including the one who had run off earlier. They carried things in their arms and held things up in their hands — everyone brought out armloads of goods.

These Rong tribespeople ran to the grass awning, then swiftly covered the central bamboo mat with red and purple ripe fruit, various unknown dried fish and dried meat, boiled fowl eggs, fresh fruit juice in wooden bowls, and other such items. The variety was so abundant it was like a flower blooming in all five colors across the bamboo mat, leaving Shen Zhuxi dazzled.

The female clan chief looked deliberately at Li Wu and spoke a short sentence.

Dong Miji translated: “Eat. No need to be polite.”

While Shen Zhuxi was still feeling embarrassed, that person who knew nothing of the meaning of politeness picked up a thin, sun-dried strip of meat. He bit into it, then bit into his steamed bun, his expression one of thoroughly smug satisfaction, and said, “Don’t worry, I am absolutely not going to be polite — aren’t you going to get the clan chief’s gifts packed up and let the brothers back at camp have a taste?”

The two soldiers standing in attendance beneath the grass awning immediately came forward — they produced burlap sacks from some unknown hiding place, and before Shen Zhuxi and the Rong tribe members had time to react, proceeded to sweep the lavish spread of Rong tribe food clean from the bamboo mat.

Their movements were so practiced, so swift, that it made one wonder if they had rehearsed it several times beforehand.

After the two soldiers walked out of the grass awning carrying two bulging burlap sacks, only a small handful of food remained on the bamboo mat. All the lavish Rong tribe food that had been brought out for show had been packed off back to the camp as a treat for the Qingfeng Army soldiers, whose diet was monotonous.

“Not standing on ceremony” was putting it mildly — this was downright brazen.

Shen Zhuxi now suspected that the gesture of producing the steamed buns had been Li Wu’s deliberate gambit all along: put out the bait to draw out the prize. The simple and guileless Rong tribe members, not knowing the cunning ways of the outside world, had fallen for Li the Scoundrel’s scheme — they had brought out their finest food to make a show, only to end up losing both the lady and the soldiers who guarded her.

While the Rong tribespeople stood there in stunned silence, Li Wu tossed his half-eaten steamed bun to Dong Miji.

Dong Miji caught it by reflex and stared blankly at Li Wu.

Li Wu said: “I’ve test-eaten it. No poison.”

Dong Miji glanced at the female clan chief’s expression, then carefully bit off a mouthful of the firm, chewy bun, chewed once, and then looked toward Li Wu with a tentative, uncertain expression.

“Chew a few more times.” Li Wu said.

And so everyone watched as Dong Miji chewed for a while longer.

Suddenly, Dong Miji paused and looked up at Li Wu with a delighted expression.

“Has a sweetness started coming through, hasn’t it?” Li Wu knew this like the back of his hand.

Dong Miji nodded repeatedly, then turned to the female clan chief and, like someone presenting a prized treasure, handed her the bun while speaking animatedly in the tribal tongue.

The female clan chief took a small bite and chewed slowly. After a moment, she nodded. The steamed bun that Li Wu had already eaten from began to be passed among the Rong tribespeople. It grew smaller and smaller, until the last person to receive it had even licked clean the crumbs that had fallen onto their palm.

“Delicious, isn’t it?” Li Wu said. “I can teach you how to make it — making steamed buns requires wheat. I won’t just teach you how to make steamed buns; I’ll teach you how to grow wheat. Once you’ve learned that, even if every bird and beast in these mountains were to die off, you’d never go hungry.”

After Dong Miji had translated Li Wu’s words, the Rong tribespeople showed varying degrees of interest in the idea. Even the ever-tranquil female clan chief showed a slight shift in her expression.

Li Wu was in no rush. He picked up a water flask and took a large swig.

The mellow wine rolled down his throat. Shen Zhuxi watched his throat bob up and down, the rich aroma of the liquor filling the air beneath the grass awning. Several Rong tribespeople wore expressions of barely restrained longing.

After Li Wu had drunk down most of the flask’s contents in one long pull, he breathed out a satisfying exhale of wine-laden breath.

“Is fruit juice good to drink — but is it as good as wine?” He tossed the sealed flask to Dong Miji. “Try it!”

Dong Miji drank a mouthful without delay. His expression went from an initial tight frown to gradually relaxing brows, then to delighted surprise — he tasted and tasted again.

Li Wu said, “Wheat can not only fill your belly — it can also be used to brew wine to drink. The method for brewing wine I can teach you as well.”

The female clan chief put down the flask she had taken from Dong Miji. After watching Li Wu for a moment, she spoke a sentence in a low, steady voice.

Dong Miji said: “My mother asks — what, do you want?”

“I want your method for taming elephants.”