White Horse Neighing in the West Wind – Chapter 16

Supu and Aman were consumed with anxiety, hoping Su Luke would win the fight outside and stop Che’erku from coming in. Through the door came an unbroken volley of thuds and crashes, a punch for you, a punch for me, laughter and curses and drunken nonsense. Then, with a tremendous boom, the plank door burst open. Cold wind and snow swept into the room, and Su Luke and Che’erku came rolling in, arms locked around each other, tumbling across the floor. The door’s sudden crash had pinned Chen Dahai behind it, and he could not bring his jian-stroke down. Su Luke and Che’erku were inside the house now, and still they grappled on.

Che’erku said, “See? You came in after all!”

Su Luke was furious. He locked his arm around the other man’s neck and bellowed, “Get out! Get out!” The two writhed on the floor, one trying to drag the other outside, the other trying to pin him down and keep him still. Suddenly Su Luke began to sing, shouting, “You can’t beat me! I’m the first warrior of the Kazakhs! Supu is second, and the son Supu will have one day is third… and you, Che’erku, are fifth…”

Chen Dahai saw they were both helpless drunks and decided they were no threat. The wind outside was fierce, driving sparks from the fire in every direction. He shoved the door shut with all his strength.

Supu and Aman saw their fathers rolling toward the hearth and rushed over to help them up, crying, “Father, Father!” But the two men were heavy, and no easy task to lift.

Supu shouted, “Father, father, that man is a Han bandit!”

Su Luke was thoroughly drunk, but for twelve years the bitter hatred in his heart had never faded. The moment he heard the words Han bandit, a flicker of clarity returned. He leapt to his feet, yelling, “Where’s the Han bandit?”

Supu pointed at Chen Dahai. Su Luke reached for the dao at his waist, but in the course of his brawl with Che’erku, both men’s daos had fallen in the snow outside. He grasped at empty air and cried, “Where’s my dao, where’s my dao? I’ll kill him!”

Chen Dahai thrust his long jian forward, the point at Su Luke’s throat. “Kneel!”

Su Luke lunged at him in a rage, but the wine had sapped his strength. Before he could reach his enemy, he crashed to the ground. Chen Dahai laughed coldly and brought his jian down in a slash. Blood burst from Su Luke’s shoulder. Su Luke howled in agony and tried to rise and fight on, but his legs were soft as mud. He could not stand.

Che’erku roared and charged at Chen Dahai. One thrust of the jian caught him in the right leg, and he too went down.

Old Man Ji turned to look at Li Wenxiu. Her expression was calm, without a trace of fear.

Chen Dahai laughed coldly. “You Kazakh dogs, today I’ll slaughter every one of you.”

Aman threw herself in front of her father, her voice trembling, “I agreed to go with you. You can’t kill them.”

Che’erku was furious. “No! Don’t go with that bandit dog. Let him kill me!”

Chen Dahai took a sheep-leash from the wall and slipped the loop over Aman’s neck. He grinned. “Good. You’re my captive now, my slave. Swear you’ll never betray me from this day on, and I’ll spare these Kazakh dogs.”

Tears streamed down Aman’s face. She knew that if she refused, her father and Supu would both be killed. She had no choice but to swear, “By the truth of Allah, from this day forth I am my master’s slave. I will obey all his commands. I will never dare to flee, never dare to disobey his orders. If I do, may I fall into the pit of fire after death, and may Allah… may Allah punish me for all eternity.”

Chen Dahai laughed aloud, immensely pleased with himself. Tonight he had gained the map to the Gaochang Labyrinth and a beautiful young girl too, luck beyond his wildest dreams. He had been long in Huijiang and knew the Kazakhs were devout followers of Islam. Once an oath was sworn in the name of Allah, no Kazakh would ever dare break it. He pulled the leash and said, “Come here. Sit at your master’s feet.”

Aman felt the shame of it burn inside her, but she had no choice. She walked to his feet and sat down. Chen Dahai reached out and stroked her hair, then her cheek and neck. Aman did not dare push him away. She could not hold back, and burst into loud sobs.

Supu could endure it no longer. He leapt up and threw himself at Chen Dahai. The long jian came out fast, its point at his chest. Half a chi more and he would have impaled himself on the point of the jian.

“Supu, stand back!” Aman cried.

Supu’s eyes burned. His teeth were clenched so hard they might crack. He stood where he was. After a long moment, he stepped back, one pace at a time, and sank to the ground in defeat.

Chen Dahai poured himself a bowl of wine, took a sip, then took out the handkerchief and spread it on his knee to study it.

Old Man Ji asked suddenly, in Chinese, “How do you know this is the map to the Gaochang Labyrinth?”

Chen Dahai thought: These people won’t survive the night anyway. No harm in telling them. He had searched for twelve years, and at last his heart’s desire was fulfilled. He was brimming with joy and bursting to speak of it, and even without Old Man Ji’s question, he would have been talking to himself soon enough. Holding the handkerchief in both hands, he answered in Chinese, “We verified it beyond all doubt. The map to the Gaochang Labyrinth was in the possession of White Horse Li San and his wife. We couldn’t find it on their bodies, so it must have been with their daughter. This handkerchief belonged to that little girl surnamed Li, and it has mountains, rivers, and roads drawn on it, so it can only be the map.” He pointed at the cloth. “Look, the handkerchief is silk. The shapes of the mountains, rivers, and desert are stitched into it with cotton thread. The silk is yellow silk, and the cotton thread is yellow thread too. You can’t see it normally, but once it’s stained with blood, the cotton thread absorbs more blood than the silk, and the pattern stands out.”

Li Wenxiu gazed at the handkerchief. It was exactly as he said. On the yellow silk, wherever blood had soaked in, the hidden pattern appeared, and where no blood had touched it remained plain yellow. That day when Supu was bitten by the wolf, not much blood had been spilled, and only a corner of the pattern had shown. Tonight, from the jian wound, a much larger portion had emerged. Only now did she understand the great secret this handkerchief had been hiding all along.

Su Luke and Che’erku had both been wounded, though neither injury was deep. Each man thought the same thing: When the wine wears off, I’ll kill that Han bandit for sure.

Che’erku said, “Old man, give me some water.”

Old Man Ji said, “Very well!” He stood to fetch the water.

Chen Dahai barked, “Sit where you are. No one moves.”

Old Man Ji grunted and sat back down.

Chen Dahai was calculating: If these few join forces and rush me all at once, that would be troublesome. Better to finish off these two old Kazakh dogs while they’re still half-drunk. Safer that way. He walked slowly over to Su Luke, then suddenly drew his jian and brought it slashing down toward his head. The strike came without warning and with terrible speed. Su Luke had no room to dodge. Supu screamed and made to lunge to his father’s rescue, but there was no time.

Just as the jian was about to fall on Su Luke’s head, a sharp whistle cut the air. Something hurled toward Chen Dahai’s face with astonishing force. In his panic he forgot about his target and swung his jian to deflect it. A sharp crack, and the jian split the object apart and it shattered into pieces. A tea bowl.

When he steadied himself, he saw clearly who had thrown it: Li Wenxiu.

Chen Dahai was livid. He had taken this slim, pale Kazakh youth for a girl and ignored him, never expecting him to swat a fly on the tiger’s head. He pointed his jian and snarled, “You worthless Kazakh pup, tired of living?”

Li Wenxiu slowly untied her Kazakh outer robe and let it fall, revealing the sheepskin jacket beneath. In the Kazakh language she said, “I’m not Kazakh. I’m Han.” Her left hand pointed at Su Luke. “This Kazakh uncle thinks all Han people are bandits and villains. I want him to know that not every Han person is a bandit. There are good ones too.”

Everyone had seen clearly what had just happened. If Li Wenxiu had not thrown that bowl, Su Luke would be dead by now. Hearing her words, Supu spoke first, “Thank you for saving my father!”

But Su Luke was stubborn. He shouted, “You’re Han! I don’t want your help. Let the bandit kill me!”

Chen Dahai stepped forward and demanded of Li Wenxiu, “Who are you? You’re Han. What are you doing here?”

Li Wenxiu gave a faint, cold smile. “You don’t recognise me, but I recognise you. The Han bandits who robbed the Kazakh tribes and killed so many Kazakh people, that’s your lot.” Her voice turned bitter as she spoke. She was thinking: If your bandits hadn’t done so much evil, Su Luke wouldn’t hate us Han so deeply.

Chen Dahai barked, “So what if it was me?”

Li Wenxiu pointed at Aman. “She’s your slave girl. I’m going to take her from you and make her my slave girl.”

No one had expected this.

Chen Dahai stared at her for a moment, then burst out laughing. “Good. If you’ve got the skill, come and take her.” He flourished his jian. The blade trembled and hummed.