Chapter Seventy-One: Even the Longest Journey Eventually Reaches Its End

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In the mist-shrouded valley at dawn, on the long-ruined martial practice grounds of the Pei family estate, Pei Wuniang held her longbow drawn taut as a full moon, motionless for what seemed an eternity, resembling a lifelike statue. General Pei Min was not only a master swordsman but also renowned for his archery. It was said he once shot thirty-one tigers in a single day, then stood at the foot of the mountain, proudly surveying the land. An elder approached and said, “Those were all leopards, not tigers. Should the General encounter a true tiger, he might not prevail.” Pei Min replied, “And where might a true tiger be found?” The old man answered, “Thirty li north from here, tigers are often seen.” Pei Min rode off at once and, in the thickets, indeed a tiger sprang forth—small in size but fierce in manner. With a roar that split the mountain stones, his horse faltered, his arrows fell, and he barely escaped with his life. From then on, he was ashamed and never again hunted tigers.

Pei Wuniang, unwilling that her late grandfather’s name should bear such a stain, dedicated herself to mastering archery, vowing to slay a fierce tiger and present it before all.

With a sharp whistle, her arrow split the air and struck dead center of the target fifty paces away. Swiftly, she drew arrow after arrow, each one following the last, all thudding into the heart of the target with precise, unerring succession.

Lu Liaoliao and Bai Liangqi, master and apprentice—a tall one and a small—watched in utter amazement, clicking their tongues in awe.

“The legendary Nine Stars in a Row—would you like to learn it?” Lu Liaoliao gazed enviously at Pei Wuniang, who stood not far off, seeming dissatisfied despite her skill, and asked Bai Liangqi.

Bai Liangqi nodded repeatedly.

“Then go on, call her ‘Auntie’ a few more times and beg her to teach you,” Lu Liaoliao urged.

“No way. Last night at supper, I already called her ‘Sister’ several times. Now, just to learn her family’s secret archery, you want me to call her ‘Auntie’? I’d die of embarrassment. If you want to learn, why don’t you go yourself?” Bai Liangqi rolled his eyes.

“Me? If I went, I’d have to call her ‘Auntie’ too and fall a whole generation behind. You rascal, you never listen to your master, no sense of respect at all.” Lu Liaoliao rapped Bai Liangqi on the head.

“If you hit me again, I’ll tell Pei Wuniang you covet her family’s secret archery!” Bai Liangqi glared in annoyance, threatening.

Lu Liaoliao, now angry, dragged Bai Liangqi away. After a long walk, they found themselves atop Ghost Valley Peak.

“This is where the Grandmaster taught the art of war to Sun Bin and Pang Juan,” Lu Liaoliao said, pointing to two stone mountains, one tall and one short. “The tall one resembles a disheveled old man deep in thought—legend has it our Grandmaster became it after passing away. The short one is his disciple, Nier. After the Master’s passing, Nier faithfully watched over the mountain gate until he too became a mountain. Look at the elders, not one of them was disrespectful to their master like you.”

Lu Liaoliao glared angrily at his unruly disciple.

“Master, do you think Elder Nier could have been a woman?” Bai Liangqi tilted his head in curiosity.

A sudden mountain wind swept by. Lu Liaoliao turned away, unable to look at the Grandmaster’s stone. Pointing at Bai Liangqi with a heavy heart, he wondered if this disciple could ever be taught.

Back at Pei family estate, after supper, Lu Liaoliao paced the small courtyard, hand on chin, deep in thought.

“If I wish to ask a favor, I must first know her likes. Pei Wuniang trains day and night in archery, hoping to redeem her grandfather’s name—this I cannot help with. But what else does she like?” he muttered.

“Yes! What else does she like?” Bai Liangqi trailed behind, imitating his master’s steps and pondering as well.

The next morning, Pei Wuniang was once again practicing archery in the training grounds.

Lu Liaoliao and Bai Liangqi stood nearby, mimicking her stance—focused and calm, drawing bows like full moons.

Again her arrow struck the heart of the target. Bai Liangqi’s arrow bounced off the target and fell. Lu Liaoliao’s arrow flew with the most momentum and the loudest sound, but the arrow itself was nowhere to be seen on the target.

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After several attempts, Pei Wuniang could stand it no longer and walked over to scold and instruct the two.

The pair—one large fox, one small—exchanged a triumphant smile.

Pei Wuniang, spirited and generous yet proud and competitive, could never resist the urge to teach others.

On a towering peak, Aimir gazed lost in thought toward the direction of the Youzhou Fanyang Military Governor’s residence, her hand resting on her belly as she sighed softly.

Lu Liaoliao approached from behind, embracing her gently.

“It’s been nearly five months since you took me from that carriage, my prison. Now Fanyang is within reach, and you’ve been learning archery from Sister Pei for over ten days. Are we to stay here forever?” Aimir covered his hand with hers, her voice tinged with sorrow.

Lu Liaoliao stiffened. He knew in his heart he had been avoiding the truth. But would avoidance change anything?

“All right. Tomorrow, we’ll pack up and go to Youzhou City,” he replied, his voice dry.

Aimir shook her head gently. “My father, my brothers, my people are on the grasslands by the Great Wall. In the end, I want to see them once more. If they know I’ve returned, they will inform the Governor’s office.”

A mournful wind swept the mountain, sending their clothes fluttering as they held each other tightly.

The carriage moved on, carrying Aimir and Bai Liangqi, but now with an additional companion—Pei Wuniang, valiant and poised, riding beside them with bow in hand. Eager for new experiences and breakthroughs, she cared nothing for Lu Liaoliao’s reluctance and joined the journey uninvited.

As they drew closer to Aimir’s homeland by the Wall, conversation between them grew sparse, as if a sudden distance had opened.

The endless grasslands spread out like a vast green carpet over the earth. Waves of grass rippled in the wind, dotted with clusters of golden wildflowers and flocks of sheep, like clouds drifting across the sky. In the distance stood colorful tents; here and there, herders raced on horseback, laughter echoing.

Aimir leapt from the carriage, falling to her knees on the green grass, tears streaming down like pearls onto the earth.

From afar, herders galloped over, eyes wary and unfriendly.

Aimir looked up and saw among them a young man in his twenties, handsome and commanding. She rushed toward him, tears on her face, crying out, “Brother, it’s me, your beloved sister Aimir!”

The young man looked closely, then leapt off his horse, embracing her tightly, tears streaming down his face.

“Aimir, my poor sister, you’ve finally come home!”

Surrounded by her people, Aimir was led toward the largest tent on the steppe. Lu Liaoliao and his companions stood awkwardly, as if forgotten.

“Master, has Mistress Aimir abandoned you?” Bai Liangqi asked, tilting his little head towards the hollow-eyed Lu Liaoliao.

“Don’t say such things, Liangqi. How could Sister Aimir abandon her brother? She’s just overcome with emotion,” Pei Wuniang gently tapped Bai Liangqi’s head, sneaking a glance at Lu Liaoliao’s dejected expression.

Lu Liaoliao stood in silence, gazing long at the tent where Aimir had vanished.

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Before long, Aimir returned, her face bright with joy, leading a middle-aged man in splendid robes, surrounded by herders, to stand before the three.

“This is Lu Liaoliao. Don’t be fooled by his gentle looks—he’s braver than any warrior of our tribe’s legends. It was he who escorted your daughter safely home,” Aimir introduced Lu Liaoliao with happiness evident to all.

The weathered face of the chieftain, Kang Rizhi, showed a fleeting trace of difficulty before he forced a smile and bowed. “I am Kang Rizhi. I am deeply grateful for your courage in bringing my daughter home.”

Lu Liaoliao, in the presence of his would-be father-in-law, dared not be disrespectful. He returned the bow solemnly. “I am Lu Liaoliao. Escorting Miss Aimir was my duty. You are too kind, sir.”

They entered the tent and took their seats. Lu Liaoliao glanced around at the simple furnishings, then kept his gaze on Kang Rizhi, the chieftain of the Kang tribe. The lines on his face did not soften with his daughter’s return but grew heavier, stirring unease in Lu Liaoliao’s heart.

Neither the lavish feast nor the passionate Hu Xuan dance could lift the somber mood inside the tent. Only when a little girl of five or six, dressed in her finest, performed a lively dance did a faint smile return to Lu Liaoliao’s face.

From time to time, he exchanged glances with the radiant Aimir, and before he knew it, cup after cup of wine sent him into a stupor, unconscious before the night was through.

At noon the next day, Lu Liaoliao awoke with a splitting headache. Instinctively, he reached for the familiar form beside him, the familiar scent, but found nothing. Feeling a loss he could not name, he stepped outside the tent into blinding sunlight.

He retreated indoors and washed his face in the copper basin. Turning around, he saw Aimir’s brother Kang Zhimu enter, flanked by two Hu girls bearing gifts.

“These gifts are to thank you for returning my sister to us. Please accept them,” Kang Zhimu said woodenly.

“Where is Aimir? I must see her!” Lu Liaoliao ignored the gifts, his heart pounding with dread.

Kang Zhimu’s face twisted in pain. He could not meet Lu Liaoliao’s eyes. “My sister, Aimir, will not see you again.”

“No! I don’t believe it. Where is Aimir? I must see her!” Lu Liaoliao made to rush outside.

Kang Zhimu blocked his path, agony on his face. “Four years ago, Aimir was offered as the brightest jewel of our tribe to our savior, Lord An Lushan. Wherever she has gone, whatever has become of her, only Lord An may decide. For the sake of our people, she cannot meet you again.”

“I don’t believe it, I don’t believe it!” Lu Liaoliao fell to his knees, powerless. In truth, both he and Aimir had known this would be their fate.

The carriage rolled away, Lu Liaoliao sitting on the driver’s seat—hollow, as if lifeless. Only Bai Liangqi stuck his little head out the window, looking back with all his might.

Aimir, frantic, spurred her horse up a high slope. She watched the distant carriage disappear, tears streaming like a spring down her cheeks.

Alone on the hillside, she cried out Lu Liaoliao’s name to the wind. But the grassland wind tore her voice away, leaving only a white scarf waving helplessly in her hand.