Xiao Nanhui had always believed that those who had endured hunger possessed a greater resilience than ordinary folk.
She had traveled thousands of miles alone, trekking through seas of sand, scaling snowy peaks, and crossing verdant oases. She believed that as long as one held onto a conviction, there was no place unreachable.
But she had never considered that darkness could be harder to endure than hunger or thirst.
An endless, suffocating darkness.
Her torch had sputtered out an hour ago. What followed was a void without boundaries, a darkness that seemed to have no end.
Deprived of the sun, moon, and stars, the passage of time slowed to a crawl. It felt like a sentence without a term, designed to break the final defenses of the human heart.
Whenever she felt herself on the verge of collapse, she would take his hand and press it gently against her cheek.
His palm felt even colder than the surrounding rock walls and damp earth, yet the lingering, faint scent of cold plum blossoms always managed to steady her heart.
Though the ground within the secret passage was uneven, it was far smoother than the mountain paths of Douchen Ridge. However, she was now burdened by the weight of another person. In the pitch-black environment where she could not see her own hand before her face, she frequently stumbled into the rock walls, scraping her shoulders raw.
At first, he felt light, as if he weighed little more than Cuckoo. Gradually, he seemed to grow heavier, until he felt more burdensome than a vanguard soldier wielding a massive battering ram in a siege.
Whenever the weight became too much, she would sit down, gasping for breath while loudly cursing that wretched Ding Weixiang. She did this as if the man might suddenly appear out of thin air to defend his master.
Cursing for so long inevitably left her parched. Lacking a waterskin, she could only press herself against the stone walls and use her tongue to lick the moisture seeping from the crevices. Yet no matter how long she spent doing this, she felt as though the water she consumed was less than the sweat she poured out.
Eventually, even resting failed to restore her strength. Sometimes, the moment she stopped, her legs felt as though they were filled with lead, refusing to move another inch.
But she did not allow herself to linger for long. She would count her own pulse and heartbeat, tracking the hours before forcing herself back onto the path.
During the first few miles, she would occasionally stop to listen intently to her surroundings. She fantasized about hearing the sounds of the Shen family clashing with Ding Weixiang; even the noise of a slaughter would have brought her comfort. Yet from the moment she took her first step, she heard nothing but her own ragged breathing and the sound of her boots grinding against the mountain stone.
She was traveling through the very heart of the great mountain. All sound and light were barred from this place; she had nothing to rely on but herself.
She began to estimate the days based on her sleep. But as she transitioned from light dozing to long, heavy dreams from which she struggled to wake, even this method lost its accuracy.
It was during her fifth long dream, amidst a heavy stupor, that she faintly heard a rustling sound.
She opened her eyes, unsure if she was still dreaming or back in reality.
Before her was the same darkness. The sound was close to her hand. A moment later, she felt a furry sensation scurrying over her fingertips.
Her wrist, which had lacked strength for so long, suddenly snapped shut. A sharp, piercing "squeak" erupted from her palm.
It was a small, blind mouse that had been licking the salt from her sweat.
She released the tiny, screaming creature. Hearing the sound of its four little paws scurrying across the ground, a long-absent smile finally touched her lips.
Where there were mice, an exit was near.
She hoisted Su Wei onto her back, struggling to her feet, and stumbled after the sound of the mouse.
After three or four steps, the silence returned. Time and space seemed frozen in this impenetrable gloom. The only spark of life was that mouse.
It scratched here and dug there, letting out an occasional squeak that served as the most beautiful consolation in the world.
Finally, her ankle struck a stone step. The squeaking vanished ahead of her, and the passage fell into silence once more.
Xiao Nanhui took a deep breath, slowly crouched down, and felt her way forward.
One step, two, three...
There were seven steps in total. At the top was a hard, damp wooden board. There was a gap about half a palm wide at the edge; that was where the mouse had escaped.
Her legs began to tremble. The exhaustion accumulated over the long journey finally began to crash over her.
She lowered the man from her back, placing him on the stone steps, and gently patted his face.
"Your Majesty! Your Majesty!"
Her urgent calls echoed and collided at the end of the passage, yet there was still no response.
She checked his pulse again. Though it was steady, he remained devoid of his five senses, showing no reaction.
She had once fled with him to the edge of the desert. The situation then might have been more perilous, and her heart had certainly been frantic, but for some reason, as long as he was awake, she had not felt so utterly alone.
Hunger and fatigue ravaged her body, yet they left her mind with an unprecedented clarity.
She did not rush to push the wooden board. Instead, she held her breath and pressed her ear against it, listening for any movement on the other side.
This secret passage had been dug from the Shen estate. Heaven only knew what lay at the other end. She didn't want to leap from the wolf's den only to land in a tiger's maw; she didn't have a shred of strength left for a fight.
However, she had even less strength to turn back the way she came.
The other side of the board was silent. It was like the most expensive courtesan in a brothel—until the moment of the tryst, she wouldn't let you see a single hint of what was to come.
Life or death depended on what lay beyond that door.
At this thought, she actually grew calm. She drew her dagger—its edge notched and rolled from heavy use—and wedged it into the gap of the wooden board. Bracing her arms, she twisted with all her might and delivered a fierce kick with her right leg.
A dull cracking sound rang out. Xiao Nanhui pushed the board open, and a scent of decay and dampness, accompanied by a shower of dust and dirt, fell squarely upon her.
Xiao Nanhui coughed violently, unsure if this wretched tunnel truly led outside.
As the dust settled, she blinked, only to find that the surroundings were still dark. There was no sign of starlight or moonlight, and the air was stagnant.
Xiao Nanhui’s heart sank inch by inch.
Was it a dead end?
She clenched her fists and dragged the man toward her. Just as she was about to heave him onto her back, before she could even straighten her waist, her head struck something hard.
She cried out in pain and crouched back down. Reaching up to feel the space above her, she touched a surface made of wooden planks. The cracks in these planks were like the gap in the board from before—some were one or two fingers wide, clearly showing their age.
What kind of room was this? Why was the ceiling so low?
Could she... could she be inside a giant coffin?
Recalling what she had seen and heard a few days prior, a skin-crawling sensation crept up her spine to the back of her neck. Facing the unknown alone, her fear was magnified infinitely; she felt the hair on her arms stand on end.
But she could not retreat.
He only had her now. If she retreated, they might both die here, and Tiancheng would lose its Emperor.
No, that was unacceptable.
A man like him, who should be accompanied by the stars and embraced by colorful clouds, could not die in some forgotten corner. And she, who had spent her life yearning for warm sunshine and the free winds of the world—how could her life end in such a stifling, pathetic manner?
Xiao Nanhui clenched her fists.
No matter what lay in the darkness, she could only move forward.
After several deep breaths, she finally hunched her body and summoned the courage to walk forward.
With her very first step, her foot knocked something over.
A heavy *thud* sounded.
Something round and somewhat heavy rolled a few times across the floor before coming to a stop.
She swallowed hard, listening intently. Once she was certain the object was no longer moving, she slowly reached out to feel it.
It was cool, round, and seemed to have some prickly fuzz on its surface.
Xiao Nanhui froze. Refusing to give up, she felt it again. The expression on her face shifted from confusion to shock.
She quickly took a few more steps forward, then crouched down to search again.
This time, she felt something oblong. One end was smooth, while the other was somewhat scarred and bumpy.
She sat back on the ground with a thud. After staring blankly for a moment, she suddenly burst into laughter.
A winter melon and a head of cabbage.
She finally knew where she was.
***
Three days later, on a dusty path southwest of Que City, a bullock cart creaked and groaned as it rolled along.
The sun blazed overhead. The cart’s roof consisted of only half a piece of tattered cloth; pull it to the left, and the right side was exposed; tug it to the right, and the left side lay bare.
Two figures sat side-by-side beneath the cloth, one in grey and one in white.
The wheel hit a bump in the road, kicking up a cloud of yellow dust that smelled of dried ox dung. The white robes were now so covered in grit and ash that they were nearly the same color as the grey ones.
Yi Kong took off his bamboo hat, shook the dust from it, and placed it back on his head.
"How many days left?"
Hao Bai remained expressionless. He had a cloth tied tightly over the lower half of his face, sitting as motionless as a mountain, exuding an aura that warned others not to approach.
"I don't know."
The young monk seemed entirely unable to read his companion's mood, his voice tinged with genuine surprise.
"Aren't you from Wan City? How can you not know how long it takes to get home?"
Hao Bai finally moved.
He blinked, and grains of sand fell from his eyelashes. He ripped the cloth from his face and threw it onto the ox's backside.
"I know how many days it takes by carriage! I know how many days it takes by horse! How should I know how many days it takes by bullock cart?!"
The young monk produced a cattail leaf fan from somewhere and began to fan himself leisurely.
"The weather is dry and the air is parched. Benefactor Hao must learn to find peace and stillness of heart."
"We've been on the road for three days, and you haven't contributed a single copper coin! I only have thirty wen left in total. Do you intend for us to beg our way through the remaining hundred miles?!"
Yi Kong did not stop fanning. He used his other hand to shade his eyes as he looked into the distance.
"Benefactor Hao, do not use such harsh words. It is called seeking alms."
"Seeking alms?! From the day before yesterday until now, what exactly have you 'alms-ed'? If I hadn't brought a few roasted cakes before we left, I'm afraid we would have starved to death before even leaving Chi Province..."
Hao Bai’s incessant grumbling drifted across the sweltering wilderness. Even the crows hiding in the shade of the old walnut trees were too lazy to pay him any mind.
The air shimmered and distorted in the high heat, making the dirt road appear to twist and turn. In the distance, a large poplar tree cast a shadow across the path, making it look as though the road had been cut in two.
Yi Kong narrowed his eyes. Seeing something, he stood up and patted the old yellow ox's rump. The cart creaked and groaned toward the tree.
This short stretch took nearly the time it takes to burn half an incense stick. As they drew closer, they saw two horse-drawn carriages parked in the shade of the tree. The roofs of the carriages had been freshly lacquered, and the dappled sunlight falling through the leaves made them shimmer brightly.
Yi Kong’s eyes seemed to light up at the sight. He brushed the dust from his clothes and looked at the irritable physician beside him with great cheer.
"Our travel expenses have arrived."
Hao Bai’s nagging stopped abruptly.
His luck had been abysmal lately. Of his few recent long-distance travels, he had either narrowly escaped having his head chopped off, been tricked into a bandit camp to treat a female brigand's leg, or been imprisoned as a slave for months after kindly trying to save a horse.
Alarm bells rang in his mind. Anxiety made his voice sound strained.
"What expenses? Someone you know?"
Yi Kong didn't speak, merely offering a faint smile.
The more he smiled, the more nervous Hao Bai became.
"What's so funny?! I'm telling you, you're just a monk from the deep mountains who hasn't seen the world. When you're out traveling, the most taboo thing is stopping for strangers. This is exactly how mountain bandits hijack carriages! If we really run into them, do you think you can hold them off for even two or three rounds?"
"Mountain bandits?" Yi Kong’s tone remained leisurely, though his hands were busy urging the ox forward. "What do you and I have on us that a bandit would even want to steal?"
Hao Bai was momentarily speechless, but the humiliations of the past were vivid in his mind. He quickly came up with an even more terrifying scenario.
"They don't just steal money! They also kidnap men to take back to their camps for the female bandit chiefs to toy with for pleasure! Don't think they'll let you off just because you're a monk..."
As they spoke, the bullock cart drew closer to the poplar tree. The carriages, and the scholar in a blue cap standing before them, came into clear view.
A scholar? A mountain bandit wouldn't bring a scholar along to hijack a cart, would they?
Hao Bai’s heart, which had been in his throat, finally settled a little.
The bullock cart came to a halt in the shade of the poplar, facing the two carriages.
The air grew still for a moment. Then, a string of loud snores erupted from inside the carriage, followed by a rhythmic pause before falling silent again.
Hao Bai looked on with suspicion, while the scholar by the carriage lowered his head in embarrassment. He leaned toward the carriage window, coughed loudly, and whispered.
"Teacher, they are here."
A dull thud sounded from within the carriage. After a long moment, someone finally pulled back the window curtain.
Hao Bai stared at the face behind the window, his eyes widening in disbelief.
Yi Kong, however, had clearly expected this.
After all, thousands of carriages had ascended the mountain over the years. He always remembered which families provided the most generous incense offerings.
"Has the Chancellor been in good health lately?"
"All is well." Bai Zhaoyu smiled, his beard behind the curtain trembling slightly. "It is only that my sleep has been light and filled with dreams lately. I wanted to go to the temple to request a few more boxes of that soothing incense, only to be told that the Master had already descended the mountain. That is why I have been waiting here."
"The incense is gone, but I have a talisman. If the Chancellor does not mind, please accept it."
As Yi Kong spoke, he drew a thin envelope from his monastic robes.
Bai Zhaoyu nodded. The scholar beside the carriage respectfully took the letter from Yi Kong’s hand and passed it to his teacher.
With the letter in hand, Bai Zhaoyu did not rush to open it.
"As the saying goes, in troubled times, no news is good news. I wonder if this paper the Master has written is a talisman of peace or a curse of suffering?"
Yi Kong pondered for a moment, the smile on his face flickering.
"I once made a promise to my master, yet I have been slow to fulfill it. Now that the time has come to complete my lessons, I have gained some insights. I cannot say whether they are joyful or sorrowful, auspicious or ill-omened. However, if the Chancellor is lacking sleep, perhaps you should read it only after you have rested sufficiently."
*After I've rested?* The old Chancellor hadn't had a full night's sleep in over a month.
The old man cursed inwardly but said no more. He turned and took a small box from the carriage, gesturing for the scholar to hand it to the young monk.
"The journey for the Master and Mister Qu will surely be arduous. His Majesty once instructed this old official that should I encounter those traveling far, I must assist them with all my might. This box and the carriage over there are a small token of my regard. May the road ahead be smooth for you both, and may all things go as you wish."
Yi Kong accepted the box naturally. The moment it touched his hand, he knew by the weight how many taels of silver were inside, and his smile deepened.
"This monk thanks His Majesty for his care and the Chancellor for seeing us off. The journey is long, so we shall depart now. May the Chancellor sleep well every night."
With that, Yi Kong hopped nimbly off the bullock cart, dragging Hao Bai and their luggage onto the empty horse carriage.
Before leaving, he remembered something and leaned out of the carriage.
"Ah, one more thing."
The scholar looked up, and Bai Zhaoyu opened the window once more.
"What is it?"
Yi Kong pointed politely to the side.
"That ox and that cart are one of the three treasures of my temple. I must ask the Chancellor to help return them. This monk would be deeply grateful."
Without waiting for a response, Yi Kong snapped the reins, and the carriage sped away.
The horses, freshly fed, moved swiftly, leaving only a trail of dust in the blink of an eye. The scholar watched the carriage vanish, then looked at the bullock cart before him, suddenly feeling a sense of indignation.
"Teacher, why is it that people are always borrowing carriages from our manor? It would be one thing if they just borrowed them, but they never return them. Is that not utterly brazen..."
"How dare you!" Bai Zhaoyu scolded huffily. "Is that someone you are fit to gossip about?"
The scholar fell silent, dejectedly leading the yellow ox as it nibbled on the grass.
"However, you are right." Bai Zhaoyu’s expression softened as he touched the letter Yi Kong had left behind. "Next time, I really must get some benefit in return, including the payment for that soothing incense..."
He stopped abruptly, then slammed the carriage window shut.
"Pah, pah, pah! There will be no next time!"
***
| Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation |
| :--- | :--- | :--- |
| 肖南回 | Xiao Nanhui | Female protagonist |
| 夙未 | Su Wei | The Emperor of Tiancheng |
| 丁未翔 | Ding Weixiang | A subordinate/guard loyal to Su Wei |
| 斗辰岭 | Douchen Ridge | A mountain location |
| 阙城 | Que City | A city name |
| 晚城 | Wan City | Hao Bai's hometown |
| 赤州 | Chi Province | A regional province |
| 一空 | Yi Kong | A young monk |
| 郝白 | Hao Bai | A physician/doctor traveling with Yi Kong |
| 柏兆予 | Bai Zhaoyu | The Chancellor of the realm |
| 安神香 | Soothing incense | Literally "calm-spirit incense" |
| 平安符 | Talisman of peace | A protective charm |
| 苦恶咒 | Curse of suffering | Literally "bitter evil curse" |
| 镇寺三宝 | Three treasures of the temple | A humorous reference to the old cart |
| 天成 | Tiancheng | The name of the empire/dynasty |
