Chapter Seventy-Three: The Serene Beauty of Autumn Leaves (Part One)

The sky was a deep, endless blue, and flocks of snow-white sheep drifted across the grasslands. Amid the melodious pastoral songs, galloping on horseback was an unspeakable pleasure. Riding a stallion with a glossy black coat and a tuft of pure white between its four hooves, Lu Liao strode across nearly every corner of the ranch, brimming with confidence.

The first time he saw this horse, Dark Cloud over Snow, it was surrounded by a group of beautiful mares, its head held high, exuding a haughty pride as if it ruled all directions. Lu Liao took an instant dislike to it and resolved to crush its arrogance beneath his feet.

"This is a colt we brought from the Western Regions years ago," Kang Zhimu remarked with a slight smile, his eyes glinting with challenge as he looked at his brother-in-law Lu Liao. "It became the herd leader less than two years after it matured. No one has managed to tame it in recent years. Would you like to give it a try?"

Eagerly, Lu Liao crept closer to the proud king among horses, but the animal merely snorted, not sparing him so much as a glance.

On impulse, Lu Liao vaulted onto the horse’s back and gripped its long mane tightly. With a piercing neigh, Dark Cloud over Snow reared up, then shot forward like wind and lightning.

It was as though a bolt of black lightning split the herd in two; the other horses respectfully withdrew, lining up as if in salute to their king.

Lu Liao bounced and jolted atop the galloping horse, like a solitary leaf on the sea or a withered leaf in the autumn wind, yet stubbornly clung to the mane, refusing to be thrown.

Suddenly, Dark Cloud over Snow halted sharply, rearing up. Lu Liao was flung into the air and landed with a heavy thud on the grass, unable to move for a long while. The proud horse trotted leisurely around where he lay, then sauntered back to its domain.

Amid peals of laughter, Lu Liao nursed his bruised backside and got to his feet. Narrowing his eyes, he looked at Dark Cloud over Snow, now basking in the admiration of the beautiful mares.

That night, beneath the moonlight in the stable, Dark Cloud over Snow’s triangular ears stood alert atop its head, its bright eyes warily fixed on this unexpected visitor.

With a metallic ring, Lu Liao drew Autumn Water, the cold blade gleaming as he menaced the horse’s most prized attribute, locking eyes with a fierce glare.

"If you dare throw me again tomorrow, I’ll geld you myself. Let’s see how you face those lovely mares then."

A wicked grin crept across Lu Liao’s face as he continued to threaten with the blade. A flicker of fear actually appeared in the depths of Dark Cloud over Snow’s eyes.

The next day, after brandishing the blade a few more times for emphasis, Lu Liao leisurely mounted. To the amazement of everyone, he rode triumphantly back and forth several times.

As he patrolled the ranch, Lu Liao made it a habit to chat with everyone he met, familiar or not. In just over twenty days, there wasn’t a soul in the Kang clan who didn’t know Lu Liao had a beautiful wife named Aimir and a legendary steed called Dark Cloud over Snow.

"Master! Master!" Bai Liangqi, his face bruised and swollen, tumbled frantically toward Lu Liao, anxiety written all over him. "Kang Tisi has been taken by a villain! Master, you must save her!"

Startled, Lu Liao looked in the direction Bai Liangqi pointed. Up ahead, a disheveled man was hoisting the crying Kang Tisi onto a horse, preparing to flee.

A gentle squeeze of his legs, and Dark Cloud over Snow surged forward, swift as mist and shadow.

Lu Liao’s body rose and fell with the horse’s stride, wind whistling past his ears. The exhilaration of flying across the grasslands intoxicated him.

He quickly closed the distance to the fleeing man, drew Autumn Water, and fixed his gaze on the bandit’s neck.

Seeing escape was impossible, the kidnapper pulled out a horn and blew a deep note, then drew a curved blade, preparing to fight.

Dark Cloud over Snow was simply too fast. Before the bandit could react, Lu Liao was already upon him. Using the momentum, he reversed his sword and tapped the man’s head lightly with the hilt.

He turned his horse, and from the slumped body of the bandit, scooped up a nearly petrified Kang Tisi, only to discover the man was already dead.

He pinched Kang Tisi’s soft cheek, and only then did she burst into wailing sobs. But regardless of her grief, Lu Liao laughed heartily in triumph.

The horn the bandit blew before dying finally summoned his comrades. Thunderous hoofbeats rolled over the horizon, and more than a hundred horsemen charged toward Lu Liao.

Panic rising in his heart, Lu Liao bundled the still-crying Kang Tisi onto his horse and fled.

He had barely gone far when Kang Zhimu and several dozen young men came shouting toward him.

"Xir!" shouted a young man from the Kang clan. "The Xir are attacking the tribe!"

Lu Liao approached the blood-red-faced Kang Zhimu, intent on handing off the sobbing Kang Tisi.

"Papa! Uncle bullied me, he pinched my face and it hurts so much!" Kang Tisi sobbed even harder upon seeing her father.

Without even glancing at his embarrassed brother-in-law or his crying daughter, Kang Zhimu drew his long saber and shouted, "Follow me! We cannot let these cursed Xir break into the tribe!"

As Lu Liao saw Pei Wuniang charging up as well, he passed Kang Tisi into her arms and rode after Kang Zhimu. Pei Wuniang shot Lu Liao an annoyed look, tossed Kang Tisi to a nearby youth, and dashed forward.

The two sides drew closer, the heavy drumming of hooves making the earth tremble. The best archers, Pei Wuniang among them, nocked arrows and loosed a rain of death from galloping horses.

Several enemies fell instantly; others returned fire with their own bows.

Lu Liao’s horse was swift, quickly catching up to Kang Zhimu to form the spearhead. He gripped his saber firmly, and in a flash, the two groups collided.

The razor-sharp sword Autumn Water sliced through flesh as easily as fabric, sending sprays of blood into the air. Without pausing, Lu Liao pressed the attack, his blade finding the next foe.

Another burst of blood, and no more enemies remained before him. Following Kang Zhimu, he wheeled his horse and charged at the scattered foe.

The dull wet sounds of blades meeting flesh, the mist of blood, all claimed the lives of young warriors.

Leaving over thirty corpses behind, the Xir fled. The Kang clan had lost eight young men.

Drenched in blood, Kang Zhimu gazed sadly at the fallen youths, speaking softly to Lu Liao at his side.

"I have always opposed my father’s ways. We cannot entrust the tribe’s fate to the fragile shoulders of women. But as more and more young men die, I begin to understand his reasoning. Still, as long as I live, I will give my life before sacrificing another woman of our tribe."

Lu Liao patted his shoulder consolingly and said nothing.

"Senior Brother, how many did you kill?" Pei Wuniang approached, excitement on her face, her skin smeared with blood.

Faced with his brash junior sister, Lu Liao was at a loss for words. After a moment’s hesitation, he quietly raised four fingers.

Pei Wuniang’s lips curled in open disdain. "Four fell to my arrows alone. Senior Brother, you’re too weak."

Lu Liao sighed softly, ruffling her hair. "If any of the dead were your kin, you’d understand—life is not just a number."

The eight bodies of the fallen were laid upon a funeral pyre. The entire tribe—men, women, children, and elders—stood silently, honoring those who had died to protect them. As Kang Rizhi set the pyre alight and sang a mournful dirge, grief filled the air.

Aimir nestled in Lu Liao’s arms, gently caressing her slightly swollen belly, her eyes brimming with tears.

"I hope our child will never have to face such a fate," she whispered.

"He won’t. Never," Lu Liao murmured, gazing at the faces flickering in the firelight, watching them dissolve into nothingness with the burning leaves.

Having survived bloodshed together, the bonds between the young people deepened. Kang Zhimu and the tribe’s youth grew close to Lu Liao, all barriers gone.

Lu Liao, the picture of happiness, watched as Aimir lovingly sewed tiny clothes for their unborn son. Suddenly, Kang Zhimu burst in, flustered.

"Go! You must leave at once. An envoy has come from the Military Governor’s Office of Fanyang. They want to take Aimir back for questioning and are waiting for my father’s reply. I’ll stall them as long as I can. You must go now!"

As Kang Zhimu disappeared again, Lu Liao turned to Aimir, confused. "Did you tell your father to pass on what you’d heard to Lord An?"

Aimir looked at him with guilt. "I had no choice. For the tribe to remain on this grassland, I had to do it."

"Don’t pack anything. We must go now," Lu Liao said in panic.

"Go? Where can we go?" Aimir shook her head gently, tears in her eyes. "If we flee, what will become of my father and brother, and our tribe? What about your family in Chang’an?"

"We’ll escape first and figure things out later," Lu Liao said, losing his composure, scooping Aimir into his arms and moving to run.

Aimir drew a dagger and pressed it to her throat, her tear-streaked face resolute as she shook her head.

Lu Liao clung to her, helpless, and sank to his knees.