White Horse Neighing in the West Wind – Chapter 14

When Li Wenxiu caught sight of the pair of short jian, her heart lurched. Something seemed to lodge in her throat, and dizziness swam before her eyes. Those are Mama’s paired jian, she thought. Though she had been very young when Gold and Silver Little Swords Third Lady died, she recognised that pair of short jian perfectly. There could be no mistake.

She glanced sidelong at the man and recognised him clearly. This was one of the three leaders who had directed the men who hunted her parents down and killed them all those years ago. Twelve years had passed. Her own appearance and bearing had changed utterly, but a man who had been in his thirties and aged twelve more years had not changed all that much. She was terrified he might recognise her and did not dare look at him for long. If not for this great snowstorm, she thought to herself, I would never have seen Supu, and I would never have seen this villain either.

Old Man Ji said, “Where has our guest come from? You must be travelling a long way?”

The man grunted an answer and poured himself another bowl of wine.

By now five people sat around the fire. Supu could no longer whisper sweet nothings to Aman. He stared at Old Man Ji for a moment, then suddenly said, “Old sir, let me ask you about someone.”

Old Man Ji said, “Who is it?”

Supu said, “She was someone I used to play with when I was small, a little Han Chinese girl…”

At these words, Li Wenxiu’s heart gave a violent leap. She turned her head away, not daring to look at him.

She heard Supu continue, “Her name was Axiu. It’s been eight or nine years since I last saw her. She lived with an old Han Chinese gentleman. That must be you, surely?”

Old Man Ji coughed several times, trying to catch Li Wenxiu’s eye for some hint. But Li Wenxiu had turned her face away. Not knowing how to respond, he could only grunt ambiguously, neither confirming nor denying.

Supu said, “She had the most beautiful singing voice. Some people said she sang even better than a Tianling Bird. But I haven’t heard her sing in all these years. Does she still live with you?”

Old Man Ji was deeply awkward. “No, no, she’s not… she’s no longer…”

Li Wenxiu broke in, “That Han Chinese girl you’re talking about, I happen to know her too. She died several years ago.”

Supu was startled. “What? She died? How did it happen?”

Old Man Ji glanced at Li Wenxiu and said, “It was illness… she fell ill…”

Supu’s eyes grew moist. “When I was little, I used to herd sheep with her. She sang so many songs for me, and told me so many stories. I haven’t seen her for years, and I never imagined she… she had actually died.”

Old Man Ji sighed. “Ah, poor child.”

Supu gazed into the flames, lost in thought for a while, then said, “She told me her parents had been killed by evil men, and she came to this place all alone, orphaned and helpless…”

Aman asked, “Was this girl very beautiful?”

Supu said, “I was young then, and I don’t really remember. I only remember her singing was beautiful, and the stories she told were beautiful…”

The man with the short jian at his belt suddenly spoke, “You said she was a little Han Chinese girl? Her parents were killed, and she came here all alone?”

Supu said, “That’s right. You know her too?”

The man did not answer but asked instead, “She rode a white horse, didn’t she?”

Supu said, “Yes, so you’ve seen her too.”

The man suddenly rose to his feet and said harshly to Old Man Ji, “She died here at your place?”

Old Man Ji gave another vague reply.

The man said, “What about the things she left behind? Have you kept them safely?”

Old Man Ji shot him a sidelong look and asked, puzzled, “What business is that of yours?”

The man said, “I had something very important that the little girl stole from me. I searched everywhere for her, and now I find she’s actually dead…”

Supu leaped to his feet and shouted, “Don’t talk nonsense! How could Axiu steal anything from you?”

The man said, “What would you know?”

Supu said, “Axiu and I grew up together. She was a very, very good girl. She would never take someone else’s things.”

The man twisted his mouth in a contemptuous sneer. “Yet she went and stole something from me all the same.”

Supu’s hand went to the hilt of the dao at his waist. “What’s your name? I’d say you’re no Kazakh. You might well be one of those Han Chinese bandits.”

The man walked to the door and opened it wide, looking outside. As the door swung open, a gust of wind drove countless snowflakes swirling in. Beyond, the entire plain was a maelstrom of wind and snow. No horse or man could travel in this.

The man thought to himself: No one else will be coming in from outside now. In this house there’s a girl, an old man, and a skinny young lad, all of them I could drop with a touch. Only this burly young fellow will take a bit more effort. He was not in the least concerned and said, “What if I’m Han Chinese? My surname is Chen, given name Dahai. In the jianghu they call me the Green Python Jian. Ever heard of me?”

Supu had no understanding of these Han Chinese customs. He shook his head. “Never heard of you. Are you a Han Chinese bandit?”

Chen Dahai said, “I’m an escort master. I make my living fighting bandits. How could I be a bandit myself?”

When Supu heard he was no bandit, his expression immediately softened. “Well, that’s good then! I’ve always said there are plenty of good Han Chinese too, but my father just won’t believe it. Don’t you ever say Axiu took something from you again.”

Chen Dahai sneered, “The girl’s dead already. Why are you still thinking about her?”

Supu said, “When she was alive, she was my friend. Now that she’s dead, she’s still my friend. I won’t let anyone speak ill of her.”

Chen Dahai had no patience for argument. He turned back to Old Man Ji. “What about the girl’s things?”

Li Wenxiu heard Supu defending her, and her heart was deeply stirred: He hasn’t forgotten me. He hasn’t forgotten me! He’s still kind to me. But hearing Chen Dahai repeatedly asking about the things she had left behind, she was puzzled: I never took anything from him. What is he looking for?

She heard Old Man Ji ask too, “What has our guest lost? That little girl was honest from the start. This old man trusted her completely. She would never take another person’s things.”

Chen Dahai paused briefly in thought. “It was a painting. An ordinary person would find it useless, but because it was… it was hand-drawn by my late father, I must recover that painting. Since this girl once lived here, have you ever seen such a painting?”

Old Man Ji asked, “What kind of painting was it? Was it a landscape or a portrait?”

Chen Dahai said, “It was… a landscape, I think?”

Supu sneered, “You don’t even know what the painting looked like, and yet you accuse someone of stealing it from you.”

Chen Dahai was enraged. With a ringing scrape, he drew the long jian from his waist. “You little brat, are you tired of living? I wouldn’t think twice about killing someone.”

Supu also drew his short dao from his waist and said coolly, “I’m afraid it won’t be so easy to kill a Kazakh.”

Aman said, “Supu, don’t stoop to his level.”

Supu heeded Aman’s words and slowly slid the dao back into its sheath.

Chen Dahai was single-minded in his desire to obtain the map to the Gaochang Labyrinth. They had spent twelve years in the desert, traversing thousands of li of desert and grassland, all in search of Li Wenxiu. Now at last they had caught the faintest trace of her. Though he was fierce and ruthless by nature, he also knew the wisdom of enduring small things lest great plans be undone. He glared fiercely at Supu, then turned to Old Man Ji and said, “That painting, you could also call it a map. It depicts the mountains, rivers, and terrain of the great desert, that sort of thing.”

Old Man Ji’s body trembled slightly. “How… how do you know the map was in that girl’s hands?”

Chen Dahai said, “This is absolutely certain. If you can find that map and give it to me, I will naturally reward you handsomely.” With that, he took two silver ingots from his breast and placed them on the table. In the firelight, they gleamed and glittered.

Old Man Ji thought for a moment, then slowly shook his head. “I have never seen it.”

Chen Dahai said, “I want to see the little girl’s belongings.”

Old Man Ji said, “Well… this…”

Chen Dahai’s left hand darted up and pulled out the silver-hilted short jian. With a sharp clang, he drove it into the wooden table. “What’s this ‘well, this’? I’ll go look for myself.” With that, he lit a candle of mutton-fat wax and pushed open a door to go inside.

He went first into Old Man Ji’s bedroom. Seeing at a glance that the furnishings were not right, he rummaged casually through the chests and trunks, then went into Li Wenxiu’s bedroom.

He saw several young woman’s garments laid out on the bed and said, “Ha, so she was grown up when she died.” This time he searched extremely carefully, even bringing out Li Wenxiu’s childhood clothes. Li Wenxiu had kept these children’s clothes because they were made by her mother’s own hands. Though she had grown too old to wear them, she had preserved each one carefully. The moment Chen Dahai saw those few children’s floral-cloth garments, he dimly recalled the scene of chasing her across the great desert twelve years ago. He cried out triumphantly, “That’s right, that’s right, it was her!” But though he nearly turned the bedroom inside out, cutting open the lining of every garment to examine it carefully, where could he find even a shadow of a map?

Supu watched him treating Li Wenxiu’s belongings so roughly. Again and again his hand went to his dao, ready to rise, and each time Aman held him back. Old Man Ji glanced sidelong at Li Wenxiu from time to time. She kept her eyes fixed on the fire, seemingly blind to Chen Dahai’s violence. Old Man Ji’s heart ached: Against this violent man’s dao, what can she do?

Li Wenxiu looked at Supu’s expression. Her heart was filled with both sorrow and sweetness: He has kept me in his memory all along. To protect my belongings, he was actually ready to draw his dao and fight to the death. But she was also deeply puzzled: This wicked bandit says I stole his map. What map could it possibly be?

All those years ago, before her mother died, she had tucked a woollen handkerchief inside the breast of her robe. The danger had been dire, and her mother had only time to tell her to take good care of herself. There was no time for anything else. The mother and daughter parted then, and never saw each other again. For twelve years, the men of the Jinwei Armed Escort had roamed the length and breadth of the Tianshan mountains in search of her, while Li Wenxiu herself had not the slightest inkling of it.

Chen Dahai searched for a long time without the slightest result. Deeply despondent, he returned to the hall and demanded harshly, “Where is she buried?”

Old Man Ji was taken aback. “She was buried very far away. Very far.”

Chen Dahai took an iron spade from the wall. “Take me there!”

Supu rose to his feet. “What do you want to do?”

Chen Dahai said, “What business is that of yours? I’m going to dig open her grave and have a look. Perhaps she took that map with her to the grave!”