Chapter Sixty-Five: The Spring Breeze Never Crosses Jade Gate Pass

One by one, snowflakes drifted gently down from the sky, swirling in the air. They looked so beautiful, yet turned the roads into a mire, making the journey arduous and slow. Lulele pushed the wagon mired in mud with all his strength, but his efforts were in vain. Emil jumped down from the carriage and, using her slender arms, helped him. Together, straining with all their might, they finally freed the wagon from the pit.

Emil broke into a radiant smile, while Lulele offered an apologetic grin and slowly turned away. He could not answer the question Emil had asked that night, nor could he change the nature of the world. The confidence that once adorned his face was gradually fading; once again, he felt his own insignificance, his helplessness. Apart from striving to fulfill Emil’s wish to return home and see her homeland, what else could he do? Since that night, he had hardly dared to meet Emil’s gaze.

More than ten days later, they entered the Jade Gate Pass.

Lying on the bed in the inn, Lulele gazed absentmindedly at the silent, luminous moon and the myriad twinkling stars overhead, his thoughts wandering. Emil gently caressed the crimson scar on his arm, and, thinking also of the wound on his hip, realized how much blood this man had shed for her sake.

Her lips brushed lightly against the scar, and once more, tears welled up uncontrollably. Feeling his arm grow damp, Lulele softly stroked Emil’s head, as if he hadn’t noticed her weeping, a faint, self-mocking smile playing at his lips.

“It seems we were both too greedy, too reckless. We bought too much silk at the start. Now we’re running short on travel funds. Let’s sell off some tomorrow—I think there’s still some profit to be had.”

Emil nodded vigorously, surreptitiously wiping her tears away.

In a shop within the city, Lulele, pleased, put away a pouch of copper coins and was about to fetch more silk from the wagon. Emil, however, looked steadily at the merchant and shook her head.

“We merchants of the Western Regions have always prided ourselves on honesty. Yet you, a man of standing with your own shop, have deceived us.”

The merchant feigned ignorance and, in the language of the Western Regions, replied, “Two bolts of silk, a thousand copper coins. Your husband agreed—I’ve cheated you nowhere.”

“The price is right, but the coins you gave aren’t. We agreed on Tang dynasty Kaiyuan coins, but you paid in Turgesh coppers. Ten Tang coins exchange for twelve Turgesh coins. Shouldn’t you make up the difference of two hundred coins?”

Emil fixed her gaze on the merchant. Flushing, he produced another small pouch—precisely two hundred coins.

Emil, triumphant, handed the bag to Lulele. But he didn’t take it. Instead, he patted her head approvingly. “Well done. These two hundred coins are your profit—they’re yours.”

Emil blushed with excitement. “Really? This is the first money I’ve ever earned myself.”

Lulele nodded in affirmation.

Emil, uncertain where to keep her first hard-earned wealth, finally tied the pouch with a cord around her neck, making Lulele shake his head in amusement.

The skies outside the Jade Gate were brilliantly blue, as pure as Emil’s eyes. Yet beyond the pass, the grasslands were desolate and bleak; clumps of withered, grey-black grass gazed hopelessly at the heavens, praying for spring rain to bring them a touch of life.

“Beyond the Yellow River, white clouds rise; a lonely city stands among a thousand mountains. Why should the Qiang flute complain of willow trees, when the spring wind never passes Jade Gate Pass?” Lulele could not help but softly recite the verses of the great poet Wang Zhihuan.

A man reciting poetry always has an ethereal, transcendent air about him—an aura fatal to women. Emil gazed at Lulele, her eyes dreamy, clinging to him as if she never wished to part.

“Up ahead, not far, lies the legendary relay station, Mamitou. The terrain here is treacherous—marshes abound, ravines crisscross, forests block out the sun, wild grass grows thick. Even old horses used to this route lose their way. From here to Shazhou, it’s only safe to travel with a large caravan. Let’s hurry and find a party we can join.”

Lulele gently patted Emil, who nestled in his arms. Emil nuzzled into his chest in acknowledgment.

The orange sun had not yet dipped below the horizon; the sky was streaked with deep reds. Already, a bright moon hung quietly overhead, elegant and aloof like a goddess carved of ice. From afar, faint, melancholy pastoral songs drifted on the wind, intoxicating and inescapable.

Driving the wagon into the Mamitou station, Emil, swathed tightly in her cloak, hid away in their room. Lulele entered the old relay’s bustling main hall alone.

The hall was packed with all manner of Western merchants. Though Lulele was dressed as a man of the Western Regions, his black hair and eyes marked him at once as a man of Tang.

A lean, tall, high-nosed man in his thirties rose and eyed Lulele with curiosity, a mocking smile on his lips.

“Strange. I’ve seen many Tang merchants on the Silk Road, always in great caravans. Never have I seen a man dare cross the Western Regions alone.”

Lulele met the man’s gaze calmly. “My wife is from the Western Regions.”

“Damn, all our most beautiful girls go off to Tang. I wonder what your wife is like, Tang boy,” the man said regretfully, rubbing his chin.

“What my wife is like is none of your concern,” Lulele replied coldly.

“Haha! You’ve got backbone, Tang boy. I like that. The name’s Bai Xiaode. We’re leaving tomorrow, crossing Mamitou. Want to join us? Two hundred copper coins, and I guarantee your safe arrival at Shazhou.”

Bai Xiaode laughed boisterously, his manner bold and unrestrained.

“Done!” Lulele tossed him a pouch of coins without hesitation.

With Bai Xiaode’s caravan, they crossed forests and marshes, soon approaching the edge of the desert.

At a small pool, Emil fetched water and washed her face. As she turned, Bai Xiaode caught a clear glimpse of her. For a moment, he felt as if struck by lightning, nearly losing his senses. In his thirty-four years, he had never seen such beauty. Emil, wrapped in her cloak, walked away with the water, and only after a long time did Bai Xiaode recover himself.

Leading four camels heavy with goods, Bai Xiaode approached where Lulele and Emil sat resting. He stared at Emil for a while, then swallowed hard.

“Let your wife spend one night with me—these goods, and the four camels, are yours.”

Lulele stood up straight, strode forward, and with a single punch sent Bai Xiaode flying.

Such propositions were all too common among Western caravans. Some merchants, in celebration of a deal, even offered their wives for the night. The price Bai Xiaode offered was more than enough to buy several young girls.

But Lulele would never tolerate it. Never.

Bai Xiaode lay on the ground for a long time before rising, while his dozen or so companions howled and attacked Lulele.

Fists flew, bodies collided; the air was filled with the thud of blows. Emil wept and screamed, trying desperately to shield Lulele, but someone shoved her to the ground. The pouch of coins at her chest burst open, spilling coins everywhere.

Without so much as a glance at the scattered money, Emil flung herself toward Lulele again, crying his name.

Wiping blood from the corner of his mouth, Lulele drew a sharp breath at the pain. His brow was split, his lips torn, his body ached all over—he had taken many blows. Yet those who had attacked him lay sprawled on the ground; not one could stand.

Wordlessly, he picked up Emil’s fallen coins, one by one, returning them to her pouch. He gently wiped her tears, his heart aching far more than his wounds.

Bai Xiaode slowly stood, looked at his fallen comrades, then silently fetched a pair of short spears from his mount and advanced on Lulele.

Lulele went to his wagon for his long sword, Autumn Water, but Emil clung to him, shaking her head desperately, tears streaming down her face, falling to the dust.

Seeing this, Bai Xiaode slowly replaced his spears at his belt and sighed.

“You damn Tang whelp, I tried to do business with you, and you decked me without a word, then laid out all my brothers. That’s hardly proper, is it?”

“My wife is not merchandise—never will be,” Lulele replied coldly.

Bai Xiaode was silent for a moment, then pressed a hand to his chest and saluted Lulele. Then he went to help his brothers up, and together they left in silence.

The long camel caravan and heavy wagons moved through the boundless desert like a lone boat braving wind and waves in a sea of sand. The moon rose high, surrounded by a host of stars, as if they were her proud attendants.

Lulele, sword in hand, held Emil close to his chest, gazing in a daze at the beautiful night sky. In his ears, the distant, melancholy, unyielding song rang again.

More than twenty desert bandits appeared like ghosts around the caravan, their cold eyes fixed on their prey beneath the moonlight.

Bai Xiaode strode to Lulele, staring at him with pride. “Dare to make it a contest? Whoever kills fewer bandits loses.”

Lulele said nothing. With a metallic ring, he drew Autumn Water and strode toward the bandits.

In the moonlight, the blade shimmered with an eerie, cold brilliance. With each flash, a mist of blood burst forth, like flowers blooming in the night—so tragic, yet so beautiful.

“I’ve won,” said Lulele, without so much as a glance at the corpses at his feet. He knew clearly that seven bandits had fallen to his blade, while Bai Xiaode, with his twin spears, had slain six.

“Not necessarily!” Bai Xiaode took the longbow from his shoulder and drew it to a full moon.

A bandit, fleeing on horseback, suddenly twisted and fell from his mount. Bai Xiaode’s deadly arrow had pierced his chest.

“Excellent shot!” Lulele said, genuine admiration in his voice.

Bai Xiaode, with a proud smile, slung his bow, then glanced at Emil, who watched anxiously from afar. He clapped Lulele on the shoulder.

“She is the most beautiful woman of my people I have ever seen. But you are worthy of her. Not because your sword is unmatched, but because you truly see our women as people.”