Chapter 23: Stating One’s Inner Feelings
Chun Tian stood still for a moment in the bustle of the crowded street. The roads were unfamiliar, the faces strange–this was a foreign land. The spring air brushing her cheeks was crisp and cold, nothing like the spring rains that pattered on the eaves of little buildings, nor the apricot blossoms blooming in hidden alleys.
She knew she was being willful and stubborn.
And yet, after witnessing Madam Li’s earnest and painstaking effort, how could she not think of her own mother’s tenderness? Did her mother still worry, fret over the daughter who had vanished without a trace? Did she still hope for her return? Or perhaps he had already become a dispensable existence.
Chun Tian gave a helpless smile.
It happened to be market day. Not far off was the trading post, where Hu and Han merchants moved endlessly. The days were slowly growing warmer, it was the perfect season to sell fine silks and brocades.
By the roadside stood a Hu shop selling jewelry. The young clerk out front had bronze-colored eyes and a broad nose. Beaming, he waved to Chun Tian and called out in fluent Mandarin Chinese, “Miss! Finest jade from Khotan, sese beads1 from Tibet, crystal and agate, night pearls and black jade, come inside and have a look!”
Chun Tian hesitated briefly before stepping inside. From her sleeve, she drew a white handkerchief and held it in her palm as she addressed the shopkeeper inside. “Clerk, I’d like to sell a piece of jade.”
The shopkeeper, a Persian man with a white beard and green eyes, took one look at her plain garments, noting the absence of any hairpins or jewelry, and smiled. “Miss, we don’t do pawn trade here. If you follow this road to the end, there’s an old-established shop from Chang’an that handles such business.”
Chun Tian had a pendant of clear jade hanging from her clothes, but she had already removed it. Unfolding the cloth, she laid it out for him to see. “Shopkeeper, what would you say this is worth?”
The shopkeeper gave the pendant a glance and drew in a quiet breath. He took it in his hands and examined it with care. The jade pendant was no larger than a baby’s palm, translucent as spring water, purely condensed as ice crystal, an exceptional piece of Hetian green jade that was rarely seen at this size. The shopkeeper studied her expression, turned the piece over several times in his hand, then, after a long pause, lifted his fingers and lazily signaled: “Ten tea notes.”
Chun Tian frowned, and made as if to leave. The shopkeeper quickly reached out to stop her. “Miss, miss, let’s talk it over. I’ll add ten more, twenty tea notes. Will that do?”
“Two hundred.”
The shopkeeper sucked in a breath and stomped his foot, shouting “My dear lady, two hundred? The government will collect taxes, are you trying to cost this old life? Miss, this jade piece is not very good. Seems like an old trinket, too. Hard to fetch a high price for something like this. Where do you get two hundred from?” The Persian shopkeeper’s white beard trembled, his round belly heaving with each breath. “Fifty tea notes.”
Chun Tian knew nothing of jade appraisals, but she did know this pendant had come from the Prince Jing’s residence. Surely it was no ordinary piece. Xue furen had once sent it to her through a servant, saying it was a birthday gift from Prince Jing. It had been a subtle test of her intentions. She remembered how her cousin Changjie had liked it very much, only to be sternly scolded by her aunt and hurriedly delivered it to Chun Tian’s room.
The shopkeeper clearly coveted the piece, but Chun Tian pulled a taut face and did not budge a single coin. In the end, the deal closed at two hundred tea notes. It was a pity that such a flawless jade pendant that might’ve fetched a thousand taels of silver now passed hands for a pittance.
Meanwhile, Cao Dening found the whole matter fishy. Ever since Chun Tian had left, his thoughts had grown more uneasy. He had never met the Xue furen of the Prince Jing residence, but earlier that year, when the Dowager Princess Consort celebrated her birthday, he had accompanied Ke-ge’er to deliver gifts on behalf of the Duan family. Among the items was a five-colored cloak of golden brocade and featherwork from the Kingdom of Gaochang, a rare and exquisite piece. Prince Jing had taken special interest in it and personally instructed it be delivered to the inner residence. The steward of the residence had remarked that Xue furen was near her due date, and the Prince doted on her deeply, sending fine gifts to her rooms each day.
But how could the young lady they encountered at Red Ravine Valley possibly be a relative of that very Xue furen? It was too much of a coincidence. This far from Chang’an, what family ties could there truly be? She had claimed to be a niece, but what kind of niece? As far as he knew, Minister Xue had no other siblings. It seems that this girl was fabricating lies.
Cao Dening mulled it over, ground ink, and penned a letter describing the situation. He sent it by carrier pigeon to the Duan family residence in Chang’an.
Chun Tian had spent the better part of the day wandering the market after exchanging her jade for tea notes, and so returned rather late. Night had fallen by the time she made her way through the alleys and she suddenly came face to face with Li Wei.
The mourning rites for Madam Li’s seventh day had just passed. Li Wei had shed his full mourning garb and now only wore a plain white hemp sash at his waist. He looked her over from head to toe and asked, “Where have you been?”
“Went out for a walk,” she replied quietly and then asked, “Why is Master here?”
Li Wei didn’t answer. Instead, he turned and led her down the uneven stone path of the Blind Alley. Step by step, they walked in silence.
It was early spring, and the trees had just begun to bud, with tender green leaves peeking quietly over the tops of walls. Because the Li family was still in mourning, white lanterns hung along the length of the alley. Shadowy, slender branches and leaves swayed gently in the evening breeze.
She was stirred by the April breeze, soft, cool as it brushed against her cheeks. It seemed to wake her from a daze. Li Wei walked ahead, she followed behind, neither speaking a word. Chun Tian ran her fingers along the wall, eyes fixed on the outline of his back. Suddenly, she said, “Master, I went to Kaiyuan Pavilion today. I had intended to look for Young Master Duan, to ask him to pass along a message.”
“Young Master Duan is not here,” he replied, voice steady. “If you need help, Cao da-ye is just the same.”
“I know,” she said quietly.
For no reason she could name, a sense of disappointment came over her. Head lowered, she followed Li Wei, her steps dragging slightly. He turned to glance back and saw her with eyes downcast, looking subdued. After a moment of thought, he stopped walking and asked, “What did you want to tell Young Master Duan?”
She took a deep breath and shook her head.
“Don’t want to say?” Li Wei turned to face her. His dark eyes held the trace of a smile. She was no longer the fragile girl who had bitten back at him with sharp little teeth when they first met last year. The evening wind stirred the sleeves of her robe, it was truly the beautiful season of youth.
Chun Tian answered in a low voice, “I don’t know where to begin.”
He said, “You should go back to Chang’an. In a few days, a merchant caravan will be returning. I’ll ask someone I trust to look after you. You can go with them.”
At last, he said, “You’re on your own, and still young, with no experience of the world. Beiting isn’t a place you should go. And some things aren’t yours to take on.”
She refused. “Since I’ve already come this far, unless I die, there’s no reason for me to turn back.”
Li Wei shook his head. “There may be war in Beiting, and even Hexi won’t stay peaceful for long. The place you’re heading to is foreign land, barbarian territory. The journey ahead isn’t something you can imagine.”
She had read many records–journals of travelers, official reports–about Beiting and the Western Regions. Snow in summer and winter alike, poisonous winds, burning sun, flying grit and stones, bones scattered across the earth. When she first set out, she had hesitated. What could a sheltered girl from the boudoir know of that vast and desolate world? But now, she no longer feared it.
She remained silent for a long time.
He sighed softly, and for a while, he too said nothing. At last, he spoke the words in his heart: “If Junior Commandant Chun knows of this from the underworld, knowing you mean to go, he likely wouldn’t be at ease.”
She abruptly raised her head, her body trembling, and stared at him. But his face was half-hidden in the dim night, revealing only the faint, chiseled outline of his features. Her fingers touched the rough brick wall, sharp, prickling with pain. She bit her lower lip. “Da-y knows me? You knew my father?”
He replied, “I never had the chance to meet Junior Commandant Chun in person, but I had the honor of hearing of his deeds.” Li Wei’s voice was low, with a trace of weariness. “At the time, Junior Commandant Chun served as a Commandant of the Imperial Guard stationed at Ganluchuan in Yiwu. It was the winter of the sixth year of Jingyuan, bitter cold beyond reckoning. Many herders lost their lives and livestock to the freeze. The Turks came south, harassing the border. Without waiting for authorization from higher-ups, Junior Commandant Chun led two hundred elite armored cavalrymen and launched a raid into enemy lines. Though he inflicted heavy losses on the Turkic riders, the cavalry at Ganluchuan suffered greatly as well. Later, the Yiwu Garrison joined forces with the Moli troops stationed in Guazhou to attack the Turks from both flanks, forcing them back past the Yahai line. Though those two hundred elite armored cavalrymen achieved merit, they had disobeyed orders. The military would not grant compensation, nor bestow posthumous honors to their families.”
She fixed her gaze on his lips, watching as he spoke each word, recounting the past. The pain in her chest twisted sharply; swallowing back tears, she said, “My father was wronged. He was acting under orders. He led the vanguard, there were to be reinforcements behind him. But as he pressed into enemy lines, those promised reinforcements never arrived. He held out with two hundred cavalry, using all his willpower and bitterly endured, and in the end, died in battle, covered in blood. But the military claimed he acted without orders, wasted elite troops, and did not even recover his remains.”
In the sixth year of Jingyuan, Li Wei had also taken part in that campaign with the Moli army’s forces. Back then, he was just a low-ranking soldier. By the time he arrived, Junior Commandant Chun had already perished. Later, following the momentum of battle, the army forced the Turks back to the Yahai line in one fell swoop.
The moment he received word from an old comrade in the army about Chen Zhongxin’s whereabouts, Li Wei had already confirmed Chun Tian’s identity.
That dagger had been a military-issued weapon–its blade black, weighty, sharp enough to slice iron like mud. It was forged from a kind of dark iron not native to the Central Plains, likely originating from the northernmost Kyrgyz tribes. The Kyrgyz supplied it to the Turks, yet Li Wei knew they also secretly traded arms with the Beiting military to aid in resisting the Turks. He had seen such daggers before in Ganluchuan, Yiwu.
When Li Wei returned home and heard her give her name, she said her surname was Chun, Chun as in the character for spring, he was struck by a sudden thought. The surname Chun was exceedingly rare. He didn’t know why, but at that moment, he thought of Junior Commandant Chun. Though they had never met face to face, he had once heard that the man had a daughter. Judging by age, she would now be a young woman in the prime of her youth.
Chen Zhongxin had a fellow townsman and former schoolmate in the army, his dearest friend, none other than Junior Commandant Chun.
So the daughter of Little Chun, carrying the relic of her dead father, had traveled alone across a thousand miles to Beiting. Whether she intended to offer a memorial at his resting place, or to retrieve his remains, Li Wei knew, no matter her reason, he had to stop her.
He could not bear to tell her that, in those days, Junior Commandant Chun had pursued Supreme Khan Ishbara Tolis2 deep into Turkic territory, all the way to the Irtysh River. In the end, his entire force was annihilated there3. If one were to seek that battlefield now, the armor would lie buried beneath the earth, the bones entwined in grass, how could anyone tell which remains were his? What’s more, the frontier now stirred at the faintest sign; the army was on constant alert. How could she ever cross the line of watchtowers and beacon fires?
He saw her slender shoulders trembling and offered her a path forward: “If someone were willing to intercede through military channels and have Yiwu’s Regional Inspector dispatch an envoy to retrieve the fallen general’s remains from the Turks, it would be a simple matter. Your wish could be fulfilled.”
What he meant was her maternal family and the Prince of Jing’s household–just a word passed lightly through the army, and there would be no need for her to journey a thousand miles at risk to herself.
She shook her head. “No one is willing to do so. I have no brothers, no uncles. In this world, I may be the only one who still remembers my father. I want to bring him home.”
Li Wei stared for a long time at the white lantern swaying under the eaves. “Let me find a way for you. But you mustn’t continue westward, it’s too dangerous.”
“Thank you, Da-ye,” Chun Tian whispered, biting her lip. She waited for the sour ache in her chest to subside, rubbed her eyes, and pulled her veil over her head, walking forward without looking back.
Changliu was still coughing. After days of illness, his face had thinned to a sharp point, making his large, lonely eyes appear even more prominent. When he saw her return, he asked softly, “Chun Tian-jiejie, where did you go? I didn’t see you all day.”
Changliu was timid by nature, and after days of illness, he had come to rely on Chun Tian’s care. Nestling beside her, he asked softly, “Are you hungry? The kitchen saved some supper for you.”
She placed a palm against his forehead, his fever had gone down, though his voice was still hoarse. “I’m not hungry. Did you take your medicine?” She herself had not eaten or drunk anything all day and yet felt no hunger. Instead, she went to fetch Changliu’s medicine bowl.
The next day, Li Wei took Changliu to Ruoshui Town to deliver the mourning notice. The village of Xishan near Ruoshui was Madam Li’s ancestral home. Though her immediate kin had long passed, distant relatives of the same clan still remained. Li Wei, an orphan adopted by the Old Master Li, had no family of his own, but per the old man’s wishes, once the Li household had all passed on, Changliu would be recorded into the clan registry as the last of the Li bloodline.
Before leaving, Li Wei instructed Chun Tian, “We’ll be back by nightfall. Get some rest while we’re gone.”
The Ruoshui grasslands stretched for dozens of li. It was also one of the most renowned horse-breeding pastures in Ganzhou. In spring, the foals were just born–small and no taller than a person’s waist, their whinnies sharp and bright, full of life as they galloped after their mares across the open steppe. Sitting before Li Wei on horseback, Changliu watched the distant herds with shining eyes.
“Uncle Helian bought Jiayan a little black horse too.”
“Go pick one you like,” Li Wei said, patting Changliu’s head. Madam Li had always worried about him getting hurt, preferring he behave properly and rarely allowing him to ride. Now that she was gone, Li Wei feared the boy would dwell in grief too long, so he thought to take him out and keep him moving.
Changliu was thrilled, inspecting one after another, until his eyes fell on a young colt with jet-black hooves and a snowy-white coat, trotting behind the herd with lively steps.
Just as the stablehand was herding the colt from the pen and preparing to harness it, a small jujube-colored horse with large eyes and long lashes dashed out from behind. It lifted its tail high, nuzzling close to the white colt’s neck with great affection, refusing to part. Even with shouts and the whip, it wouldn’t be driven away.
“What a pretty little jujube,” Changliu reached out to stroke both foals, eyes full of longing. “Father, why don’t we buy one for Chun Tian-jiejie too?”
The stablehand chuckled beside them. “Six hundred coins apiece, a full string of cash for the pair. Da-ye, why not take them both? The two little ones can keep each other company.”
Li Wei nodded and paid the full price, leading both young horses home to the city.
By the time they returned to the alley, night had fallen. At home, the ever-burning lamp for Madam Li till glowed quietly. Hearing the horses neigh, Aunt Zhao and Xianxian ran out to greet them.
Something felt off to Li Wei. Before he could speak, Aunt Zhao said directly, “ˆDa-ye, Miss Chun Tian is gone.”
“Gone?” His brows furrowed. “When did she leave?”
“She left early this morning. I took Xianxian out to buy vegetables, not long after we stepped out, she left.” Aunt Zhao sighed, “Before going, she bid farewell to Aunt Huang at the alley’s mouth and gave her a box of pastries, saying she was going to search for family. She also said she’d discussed it with you beforehand. When I came back and looked around the house, the west wing was already tidied spotless. She left a few things on the table.”
Li Wei felt a headache coming on and let out a deep sigh.
Changliu turned to his father, his voice full of worry. “Will jiejie be alright?”
Aunt Zhao came forward, holding the belongings Chuntian had left behind.
She had sewn a set of clothes and shoes for Changliu, bought a hairpin for Xianxian and Aunt Zhao, and left Li Wei a slip of paper. In neat, graceful script, just one line:
“If I am fortunate enough to return, I will repay your kindness.”
Footnotes:
- Sese beads: historical and likely transliterated term from ancient Persian word, sit-sit, referring to rare, highly prized gems or beads, possibly sapphires, lapis lazuli, or other valuable stones depending on the era.In particular, according to the Tang Dynasty’s Record of Chengdu, after rain, small beads would appear in the place of stalagmites, of green and yellow color, some with fine holes you can thread with silk. These beads held religious, cultural and sometimes political significance and were mentioned in both Chinese and Tibetan records. In Tibetan areas, “sese” became closely associated with Dzi beads, which are sacred and often traded at high value. It was often said in Tang Dynasty’s New History of the Five Dynasties, that the value of Dzi beads was such that 1 Dzi bead was worth one good horse. Here, it seems that it is more likely that these were Dzi beads. For that definition, I suggest following this wikipedia link for a picture and explanation: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dzi_bead ↩︎
- Ishbara Tolis: He was a ruler of the Western Turkic Khaganate in the early Tang dynasty. His full title : Sha-bo-lüe (Ishbara) Qaghan 沙缽略可汗, personal name She-tu 攝圖, son of Yi-xin-ji. He was a member of the ruling Ashina clan, the royal family of the Turks (Tujue), who established a powerful nomadic empire across the Eurasian steppe in the 6th-8th centuries. He was enthroned in 634 under unfavorable circumstances and had to rely on vassal tribes more powerful than himself. At the start of his reign, he faced internal conflict between two major Western Turkic factions: the Five Dulu tribes in the west (Northern Court) and the Five Nushibi Tribes in the southwest (Southern Court). His empire came to be known as the “ten arrows”, originating from when he sent arrows to ten tribes legitimizing them as shads (semi independent governor princes). Hence, he reorganized the Turks and split them so that east of the Suyab River, the Dulu Tribes were governed by five major chuo while west of the Suyab River, the Nushibi Tribes were governed by five major shijin. He was also known as the Qaghan, or the Spreme Khan, he presented 500 horses to the Tang dynasty in 635 and submitted a memorial requesting a marriage alliance, but Emperor Taizong of the Tang dynasty declined the marriage alliance. ↩︎
- The Battle of the Yetie River (657 CE): was a military campaign by the Tang dynasty to destroy the Western Turkic Khaganate. The Tang Empire’s commander led Tang forces and Uyghur cavalry to defectat the tribe of the Western Turks north of the Altai Mountains. They joined forces with the Nishu tribe to attack Qaghan Ishbara Tolis, but was surrounded by the enemy’s 100,000 troops. The commander, Su Dingfang deployed infantry armed with spears in formation to the south while personally leading the cavalry in formation to the north. Ishabara first attacked the infantry and launched three charges without succeeding, his forces’ morale beginning to falter. Eventually, the Tang Commander charged with is calvary and was able to scatter the Qaghan’s remaining forces. While I’m not sure how much the author is pulling from real history, this is sort of the context of the battle. ↩︎
TN: Hope everyone is doing well! Chun Tian’s journey begins!
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