When the ground trembled, there was still no sign of the army when looking westward. The pastoralists from Lingshan all came out, blocked by the officials from the yamen two miles away on the south bank of the river, silently waiting on their horses for the arrival of the esteemed guests from afar.
When the first glimpse of the yellow flag appeared, the crowd let out excited gasps, and the voices saying “They’re here, they’re here” echoed continuously.
“Dad, carry me,” Qiqige wanted to stand on horseback to see.
Bahu didn’t have the mood to accompany her at this moment. He perfunctorily asked her to sit down properly, his eyes fixed on the approaching procession, and he instructed, “Follow closely behind your mother and me later, don’t run around.”
The thunderous sound of drums rang out nine times, and the leading soldiers had already entered the range of Lingshan. The sturdy guards were dressed in dark blue armor, holding long spears, looking solemn and vigilant as they surrounded a large Lele cart pulled by four tall horses.
“Long live Princess Ke Dun.”
“May the Emperor be safe and sound.”
“We respectfully welcome the Emperor.”
Mi Niang watched Bahu and the locals cross their arms in front of their chests to salute, and she hurriedly did the same. However, her eyes were fixed on the distant carriage and horses. She saw a golden curtain blocking the carriage window being lifted by a hand, revealing a beautiful and noble face.
“It’s Ke Dun! It’s Ke Dun! Long live Ke Dun!”
“Long live Princess Kangning! Long live Princess Kangning!” This was the cheering from the people who came from the Central Plains.
Mi Niang noticed Ke Dun glanced in their direction, smiled, and then lowered the curtain again. The army did not stay in Lingshan for long and quickly disappeared from the sight of the crowd.
“Keep up,” Bahu called out, flicked the reins, and followed after them on horseback, lagging behind the grand procession, waving his arms and shouting in farewell to the Khan and Ke Dun.
Qiqige and Jiya followed Bahu on both sides, while Mi Niang carried Habul and rode behind the three of them. She noticed horses galloping behind them, probably people coming from Xushui and further away, all intending to escort the Khan and Ke Dun to the end of the grasslands.
This was also her first time setting foot on the road back to the Central Plains. Unlike the excited cheers of the people of the Mobei, she was more focused on searching for familiar surroundings in her memory. For the great Ke Dun, the Princess of Dakang from the Central Plains, her feelings were more of nostalgia than gratitude. She missed her homeland. At this moment, she felt like they were all girls who had married far away to the Mobei.
From sunrise to sunset, the end of the grasslands appeared, with a towering Altar standing before them. Along the way, this Altar was the only familiar sight from her memory.
The tail of the army had already disappeared into the mountains, leaving behind only the marks of their wheels and hooves on the road. Mi Niang followed the mottled tracks and hoofprints downward. Someone was crying, she turned to look, it was a Han Chinese face, kneeling on the ground, bowing deeply towards the south.
Someone approached, it was Bahu leading the two children, his gaze complex, and cautiously said, “Why not rest for a while, dismount and let me carry you down?”
Mi Niang shook her head, “I’ll just stay on horseback.” In reality, her legs were already numb. She was afraid that if she dismounted, her legs would give way too. She couldn’t stand up after kneeling before the green mountains.
“Or maybe you should come down,” Bahu took the child from her arms and placed him on the ground, trying to hold her waist to lift her down.
“I said I want to stay on horseback,” Mi Niang stared at him impatiently. This was the first time she had shown her temper towards him since their marriage.
The man paused for a moment, released her hand, and stood there without moving or saying anything, accompanying her in gazing towards the south. He didn’t know how vast the grasslands of the Mobei were, nor how broad the distant mountains were. He didn’t know how many days it would take to walk from the mountains to the land of the Central Plains, nor what the Central Plains looked like. Meanwhile, his wife had lived in the land of the Central Plains for sixteen years, experiencing sixteen cycles of seasons. Her relatives were scattered across the vast land of the Central Plains, and she had been away from her homeland for five years.
The scattered crowd finished paying their respects to the Altar and mounted their horses to head back. Those who had knelt on the ground wiped away their tears and prepared to return. Qiqige and Jiya pulled Habul over and asked when they were going back.
Bahu remained silent, glancing at Mi Niang.
“Dad, when are we going back?” Jiya asked again.
“We’ll talk about it after your mother has rested,” he replied.
Mi Niang took a deep breath, snapped out of her thoughts, glanced at the setting sun in the west, and turned the horse’s head, saying, “No need to rest, let’s go back now.”
This time, Bahu took action, firmly lifting her down from the horse. As he expected, her legs couldn’t stand straight after riding for so long.
“Your legs giving up on you?” he remarked.
Mi Niang didn’t retort, her eyes lowered as she watched him squat down and massage her stiff thighs. It took a while before she felt the soreness.
“Mom, what’s wrong with you?” Qiqige approached and whispered, “Your face looks like you’ve been crying.”
Mi Niang wiped the corners of her eyes, her eyes dry without tears.
“It’s your face that’s crying. Your mouth is unhappy, your nose is unhappy, your eyebrows are unhappy, and your eyes are even more unhappy. I can tell. You’re crying.”
“No, I’m not,” Mi Niang sat down on the ground, leaning on Bahu’s shoulder. She met his eyes, but he looked away in silence.
“I come from beyond the mountains. The mountains are vast, even larger than the grasslands, and you can’t see the end of them. There are endless roads, and all you see when you open or close your eyes are trees—various kinds of trees, but also the same kind,” she said in a jumble, because this was her memory from five years ago when she came to the Mobei She didn’t know what the mountains looked like, only endless roads and countless trees, to the extent that in some places, the sun couldn’t even shine through.
“On the other side of the mountains is my home. There are… many villages, with fields and land, and also mountains, much higher than the hills on the grasslands, with tea trees planted on them,” she intended to tell the children about the towns they passed on the way here, but couldn’t articulate it. Upon reflection, her memories were vague, and all she could recall were blurry images of houses with smoke rising from them, and farmers busy in the fields.
“Is your home in the same place as Princess Kangning’s?” Qiqige asked innocently. “Then it must be a wonderful place, with so many beauties, and Auntie Pandi, Auntie Wan’er, Auntie Lan Niang…” She tried to cheer up her mother.
Mi Niang indeed smiled. “Yes, the Central Plains are a wonderful place.”
“When I grow up, I’ll accompany you back,” Jiya said as he hugged Mi Niang’s neck, patting her back gently as she had done to him. “Mom, don’t be sad. When I grow up, I’ll accompany you home.”
“Okay,” Mi Niang’s heart felt sour and bitter hearing his words. It took her a while to speak hoarsely, “No need to go back. With you all, my home is here in the Mobei.” She couldn’t remember the road she took to come here, and she couldn’t discern the direction of her home anymore.
Going back would be futile, surrounded by strangers.
“Let’s go,” she stood up and glanced at Bahu. “I was just in a bad mood.”
“I understand,” the man nodded. “Let’s go pay our respects to the Altar.”
“Okay.” This time, Mi Niang’s response was straightforward and decisive.
When the army passed by, they had already performed the ritual, and the blood of the cattle and sheep piled in front of the altar hadn’t dried yet, attracting a large swarm of buzzing insects. There were scattered bones on the ground, mostly cow and sheep bones. Perhaps it was customary for caravans to perform rituals here. The colorful silk cloth tied to the altar was bright, making a rustling sound in the wind.
“Let’s go, let’s head back.” After circling the altar three times, Mi Niang folded her hands in front of her chest and bowed, then turned to walk towards Bahu and the children. She knew she wouldn’t come back to this place again.
“Habul, I’ll carry you.” Bahu took a robe from the saddle and wrapped it around his youngest son, then lifted Qiqige and Jiya onto their horses. “Do you want me to carry you?”
It was just a formality, as he had already lifted Mi Niang by her waist, using his shoulder to support her buttocks, and with a lift of his arms, she was on the horse’s back.
“Let’s go, let’s go home.” The sun was setting in the west, and there was still warmth in the wind.
Riding swiftly all the way, they arrived home when it was already pitch black outside. There was food left by Uncle Jinku in the pot, just needing to be reheated.
Qiqige and Jiya were already exhausted, sitting in chairs with their bodies slumped on the table, groaning in discomfort.
“Let’s eat first. After eating, I’ll boil water for you all to soak in.” Bahu brought four bowls of rice to the table one after another. In the family of five, only he and the youngest didn’t have trouble walking.
“My thighs must be chafed. How about you two?” Mi Niang asked.
“I don’t know,” Jiya shook his head. There was a layer of cotton stuffed in his pants, so it shouldn’t have chafed his skin.
But after taking off their pants after the meal, they all had red streaks on their thighs, and the cotton balls thrown on the table were stained red too. Bahu carefully applied golden sore medicine to their wounds. “Doesn’t hurt, right?” Only the people in the family could make him be this careful. If it were him, he wouldn’t even bother applying the medicine.
“Not hurting,” Mi Niang shook her head. She used her fingers to gently apply the medicine powder to the bleeding areas, gradually removing the cotton stuck to the wounds.
Applying the medicine didn’t hurt, but when he massaged their legs, she screamed in pain, tears streaming down her face. Qiqige and Jiya were no exception. After breaking free from their father’s grasp, they sobbed a few times while lying on the blanket.
Bahu chuckled and picked up Mi Niang, leading her and Habul outside. “It’s time to sleep, you’ve had a long day.” He closed the door with his foot as he left.
Habul still held two shoes in his hand, toddling behind into the neighboring yurt. After being put on the bed, he curiously tried to pry open his mother’s eyelids to see if she had cried.
“What are you doing, little third?” Mi Niang went to nibble on his chubby hand.
“hee hee.” Habul only laughed without speaking, crawling into the blanket himself. “I want to sleep.”
“Alright, you sleep then.” In the time it took for her to say this, she took off her inner clothes and hung them on the bedpost. When she lay down, she found the little chubby lump had already fallen asleep.
Children had no worries, they just fell asleep as soon as they lay down.
With the children not speaking, there was a moment of silence in the room. Bahu felt guilty because Jiya had said he would accompany Mi Niang back home. How could he not know how to say the most comforting words to her? He just didn’t dare to promise.
“What’s wrong with you? Are you still mad at me? I yelled at you earlier because I was in a bad mood, don’t take it to heart,” Mi Niang thought he was holding a grudge against her. Since their last exchange where she glared at him impatiently, whenever their eyes met, he would be the first to look away.
“No, my heart isn’t that small,” Bahu took off his shirt, draped it over a chair, and sat on the bed. Leaning against the bedpost, he pondered for a moment, then said solemnly, “If you want to go back to the Central Plains to have a look, wait until Qiqige and Jiya are a bit older, around thirteen or fourteen, and can take care of things at home. I’ll take you on the caravan for a trip. But let’s be clear, once you go back to the Central Plains, you can’t stay there.”
“Are you afraid I won’t want you anymore?” Mi Niang propped herself up and teased him, leaning against his chest. Seeing his serious expression, she stopped joking, “Don’t worry, I have no intention of going back to the Central Plains. I’ve already forgotten the way home.”
“You can go with the caravan.”
Mi Niang shook her head, he didn’t understand what she meant, “I don’t know where my home is. During the escape, I couldn’t tell if we were heading south or north.”
“You can ask around.”
“No need, everyone who survived escaped, either to the Mobei or to Youzhou,” Mi Niang wrinkled her brows, recalling, “After the earthquake, there was a flood. The mountains turned into gullies, fertile land might have turned into lakes and rivers. There’s no need to go back.”
Without seeing old friends, how could there be old places?
…
It was late at night, and with shallow breathing beside him, Bahu kept his eyes open, staring at the top of the felt tent. He watched the sky from the crack, from the stars and moon high in the sky to disappearing into the clouds, from dark black to a tinge of indigo at the horizon, only then did he close his eyes and sleep peacefully.
He thought Mi Niang might have remembered old things today and might have nightmares again.
…
“Dad, Dad? Still sleeping?” Qiqige saw the person sleeping soundly under the blanket, rolled him over, and pulled down his quilt, laughing loudly, “It’s noon already, did you sneak out last night?”
Noon already? Bahu sat up and looked outside. The open door let in a large swath of golden light, and it was another beautiful day today.
“Where’s your mother?” He got out of bed, lifting the covers.
“What do you need with her?” Mi Niang was sitting outside, grooming Da Huang.
