Chapter 44: Pursuers Part 1

A night passed, and they camped at the foot of the Tianshan Mountains. In the early hours before dawn, campfires dotted the ground like stars across the earth.

“Will we be able to escape?” Xiao Kun was deeply worried now; they had brought far too many people with them.

“Even if we can’t, we’ll have to go to the rear of the group and fight another battle.” Xiang Xian comforted him casually. “Don’t worry. Sleep first. No matter how big the problem, we’ll deal with it after waking up.”

Xiao Kun tossed and turned, unable to sleep, while Xiang Xian gazed into the distance. Their camp was set up on high ground, and many commoners were still arriving one after another, resting in place.

“Can’t sleep?” Xiang Xian said. “Brother Guang, lend me your pipa.”

Xiao Kun did not reply. As soon as he closed his eyes, his mind filled with all the recent events: the Heart Lamp, Mr. Liu, King Mu, the Ba Army—one thing after another, without even a moment to catch his breath. Many seemed unrelated on the surface, but vaguely, he felt they were all connected.

Moments later, the sound of strings rang out. Xiang Xian was testing Hulü Guang’s Five-Stringed Pipa, with Hulü Guang teaching him the finger positions beside him. Though Xiang Xian had never played Western Region instruments, he was proficient in zither and se, and knew a bit about pipa techniques. After tuning the five notes, he played a short melody haltingly. His fingering was clumsy, but it already formed a tune.

Xiang Xian sat cross-legged by the campfire, facing Xiao Kun, who had his back to him with eyes closed.

A clear voice accompanied the music.

“Before you, I meant to speak of my return date, but my spring visage grew mournful before words were said—”

“You really like Ouyang Xiu,” Xiao Kun said.

“Of course. He’s my ancestral master grandpa.” Xiang Xian laughed and played the Five-Stringed Pipa for his own amusement.

“It sounds so good!” Chaosheng listened curiously.

Xiao Kun: “Keep singing. I like it.”

“Before you, I meant to speak of my return date, but my spring visage grew mournful before words were said. Life naturally breeds amorous folly; this grudge has naught to do with wind or moon… “ Xiang Xian sang loudly, his voice echoing over the camp. The commoners stopped what they were doing and looked up toward the song from on high.

Wu Yingzong was shirtless in martial pants and boots, peeling an orange for Chaosheng in front of the tent.

“Parting songs, do not play new verses yet; one tune can knot the intestines inch by inch! Only after viewing all the flowers of Luoyang City, together with the spring breeze, is parting made easy…” Wu Yingzong’s deep voice joined in. He fetched water from the stream, passed through the camp, and sang along with Xiang Xian’s melody. His rich tone harmonized with Xiang Xian’s bright voice, forming a duet of male voices.

Life naturally breeds amorous folly; this grudge has naught to do with wind or moon… With eyes closed, Xiao Kun’s final thought before sleep was: Ouyang Xiu was truly remarkable.

Xiang Xian finished his song, and from the distant gathering of commoners, Uyghur tunes rose. Someone had brought instruments and played a Tianshan melody on the road of flight. Many gathered around the musicians, making merry amid hardship, singing and dancing by the campfires. It was not until nearly three in the morning that the camp of tens of thousands quieted down.

“Old Wu?” Chaosheng said from inside the tent.

Wu Yingzong lay outside the tent, using his arm as a pillow, gazing at the stars.

“Big Brother?” Rustling sounds came from the tent as Chaosheng sat up.

Wu Yingzong had to say, “What’s wrong? Go to sleep.”

“Come in and sleep with me for a bit, okay?” Chaosheng said.

“I’ve got night watch.” Wu Yingzong replied.

Hulü Guang dozed under a tree. Though Xiao Kun had not explicitly assigned it, War Dead Corpse Ghost soldiers patrolled the perimeter. Wu Yingzong followed habit, guarding the first half of the night so Hulü Guang could take the second.

Chaosheng left the tent. Normally, he would have been asleep by now, but he was so sleepy he kept rubbing his eyes and yawning.

“Do you have some illness?” Chaosheng asked again.

“It’s A Huang cursing me,” Wu Yingzong explained. “I don’t have an illness.”

“Oh.” Chaosheng fell silent awkwardly.

Wu Yingzong: “Go back and sleep. We’ve got marching tomorrow.”

Chaosheng sat beside Wu Yingzong, looking toward the campfire where Xiang Xian was patrolling. He knelt on one knee by the sleeping Xiao Kun, covering him with a blanket, then went to check on Hulü Guang.

“Will you go back to Big Brother’s side?” Chaosheng regretted his harsh words from that day, feeling he had hurt Wu Yingzong but unsure how to make amends.

“You said to go back and serve the Master,” Wu Yingzong said.

Xiang Xian glanced at Hulü Guang and was about to approach when A Huang stretched lazily in his scarf.

“Don’t go over,” A Huang said. “Old Wu is being stubborn.”

Xiang Xian: “??”

As Xiang Xian turned back to the campfire, Chaosheng called, “Big Brother!”

Xiang Xian made a “shh” gesture, signaling not to wake Xiao Kun.

Chaosheng looked at Wu Yingzong, who unusually avoided his gaze and dared not look at Xiang Xian, his hand trembling slightly.

“Are you injured?” Chaosheng asked.

“I’m fine.” Xiang Xian came over, patted Chaosheng’s head, and said, “Not sleeping yet? What about you, Old Wu?”

Wu Yingzong nodded stiffly, afraid Chaosheng would suddenly bring up sending him back. Chaosheng took Wu Yingzong’s hand, leaned against him, yawned again, and looked at Xiang Xian without speaking.

“Missing home?” Xiang Xian sensed Chaosheng’s subtle melancholy in the dead of night. After Chaosheng left Kunlun for the mortal world, he and Xiao Kun had often checked on their little brother at first. But after entrusting him to Wu Yingzong, their attention lessened.