Chapter 54: The Medicinal Catalyst Please add to your favorites.

Sangkun and Jamukha, hoping to succeed with a single strike, had mobilized nearly all their main forces, assembling outside the camp. Apart from the outer ring of sentries, only a handful of stragglers, women, and children remained to guard the livestock and treasures. Since Cheng Lingsu and her companions were in a remote part of the camp, no one paid much attention to their presence.

The clear waters of the Onon River are the source of all Mongol bloodlines. The river, deep and icy, weaves through undulating grasslands. Under the iron hooves of spirited horses, green shadows swirl like scattered snow, blending with the azure sky as if, by galloping endlessly across the plains, one could break through layered clouds and reach the far edge of the heavens.

At the source of the Onon, valiant Mongol warriors and passionate, talented young women gathered in celebration. Amid the cacophony, Wang Khan had fled far, Sangkun met his end, Jamukha was captured, and all raised their cups to honor Temujin, whose might shook the steppes.

Everyone had gone to the banks of the Onon, and Temujin’s great camp fell into sudden, utter silence, not a sound to be heard.

Outside one tent stood a small wooden cauldron at the corner of the canvas, deep yellow in color, nearly merging with the dusky fabric. If one did not look closely, even with the usual bustle, no one would have noticed this palm-sized, exquisitely crafted thing that gleamed like jade.

A frail young man appeared as if conjured from thin air, standing half a pace from the cauldron without stirring. His plain Mongolian robe hung loose on his thin frame, billowing in the wind.

“Are you leaving?” he suddenly asked, lifting his head to reveal a face far too gaunt and aged for his years. He spoke Mandarin, his voice hoarse like an old wooden window creaking in a winter gale.

The tent curtain rustled, and Cheng Lingsu emerged, a small bundle slung over her shoulder and a basin of flowers cradled in her hands. As she spoke, she shifted the flowers to her other hand and walked under the tent awning, picking up the wooden cauldron and holding it in her palm.

The young man seemed startled and retreated a step.

Seeing him shrink away as if from some wild beast, Cheng Lingsu sighed. She set the flowerpot on the ground and took out a cloth to wrap the wooden cauldron with great care.

“I’m a businessperson. Now that I’ve sold you the item, don’t let me see it again.” Though the pallor of the young man’s face had eased, his voice still trembled slightly. He fumbled in his robe and tossed a cloth pouch to Cheng Lingsu. “This is what you wanted last time. Have a look.”

Cheng Lingsu took it, tied the wrapped cauldron to her belt, and then opened the pouch. Inside was a tiny knife, barely the length of a finger, its blade razor-thin and keen, along with four golden needles of varying lengths.

“Well?” The young man watched her closely, unwilling to miss the slightest change in her expression.

“Yes, that’s exactly it.” Cheng Lingsu picked up the little knife between her thumb and forefinger, then put it back, wrapping it with the needles and tucking them into her bosom. “Thank you.”

“And my payment?” The young man’s relief was evident, but now a hint of yearning flickered in his eyes.

Cheng Lingsu lifted the flowerpot and held it out to him. “Take this whole pot. Place a flask of wine beside it, pluck a blue flower every three months and bury it in the earth. Not only will it ward off snakes and scorpions, but within ten paces, not a single blade of grass or insect will survive.”

The young man’s eyes lit up, his face breaking into an expression of wild delight. “So… I’ll never have to worry about poisonous creatures crawling on me again?”

Cheng Lingsu nodded. “These blue and white flowers balance each other. As long as the central stalk of ‘Ti Hu Xiang’ survives, you can cultivate the blue flowers yourself.”

Overcome with excitement, the young man’s hands shook as he accepted the pot, finally hugging it tightly to his chest.

“I truly am leaving now.”

At her words, the young man turned and walked away at once.

Cheng Lingsu raised her voice after him. “All these years, you’ve helped me find this and that. Though we called it business, I truly gained much from you. These seeds were yours to begin with; I just kept them alive. So, this time... consider it a debt I owe you. If you ever need anything, just come find me.”

But the young man kept his head down, his gaze fixed only on the flowers, and it was unclear if he heard her at all.

Cheng Lingsu sighed again, glancing back toward the source of the Onon, where waves of celebration sliced through the sky above the grasslands. She led the blue roan horse from in front of the tent, mounted up, oriented herself, and rode south.

“Hua Zheng! Hua Zheng!” She had ridden just over ten miles when cries of eagles echoed above, sharp and clear. Hoofbeats thundered behind her, whips cracking like a string of firecrackers, drawing ever nearer.

Cheng Lingsu reined in her horse and turned to see Tolui, who should have still been at the Onon gathering, riding alone at full tilt. Two young white eagles, just learning to fly, circled gracefully overhead, their wings outstretched as they swooped past the horse’s head.

Tolui drew up half a pace before her, yanking the reins. His horse skidded to a halt and reared up with a piercing neigh.

“Hua Zheng,” Tolui, drenched in sweat, fumbled at his saddle and retrieved a leather pouch, urging his horse alongside Cheng Lingsu’s and tying it to her saddle. “Father may be angry, but you’re still his daughter. If you ever tire of wandering and wish to return, don’t be afraid—just come back.”

“Brother Tolui…” Cheng Lingsu had thought he was there to stop her and was busy preparing an explanation, but to her surprise, the usually straightforward Tolui spoke these gentle words.

Tolui leaned from his saddle, his arm encircling her shoulders. “If you head south, you’ll reach the Jin Empire. The Jurchens are full of tricks—Wang Khan attacked father this time because he was incited by Prince Wanyan Honglie of Jin. They’re different from the sons and daughters of the steppe; their words cannot be trusted. Be careful not to be deceived.”

Cheng Lingsu laughed, nodding, and whistled up at the sky. The two white eagles called out in unison, gliding down to perch on their shoulders.

She reached out to stroke one eagle’s talon. The bird bent its head to nuzzle her palm with its sharp beak, then flapped its wings.

“Go now. If Father finds we’re both missing, he’ll send someone after us.” Tolui waved, shooing the eagle from Cheng Lingsu’s shoulder—only for the clever bird to peck him sharply on the hand.

Though not yet grown, the eagle’s bite was fierce enough. Seeing Tolui gape, clutching his reddened hand in disbelief, Cheng Lingsu burst out laughing.

Her crisp laughter mingled with the wind sweeping the plains, rippling the verdant grass in waves, as if the prairie itself danced to this most beautiful melody.

She couldn’t recall the last time she had laughed so freely. The sorrow and reluctance weighing on her heart seemed to drift away with the sound. Whether the Medicine King Manor or the Mongol desert, Cheng Lingsu had always come and gone as she pleased. Her heart light, she patted Tolui’s shoulder, bade him farewell, then turned her horse south without a backward glance.

The two white eagles suddenly unfurled their wings, drifting behind the horse like clouds. Together, they traced elegant arcs through the sky, then split left and right. From afar, the roan galloped like a beast with wings, the girl’s long hair streaming behind her, as if she soared beyond this world.

Above, the layered clouds floated gracefully, parting now and then to reveal a sliver of piercing blue. Looking out, the endless prairie and desert stretched to the horizon, seeming without end.

Cheng Lingsu rode for a while, wind whistling in her ears, the open landscape before her filling her heart with exhilaration.

In this vast expanse of yellow sand and green grass, it was easy to lose one’s way. Even seasoned merchants stopped every few miles to check their bearings. But Cheng Lingsu, with two white eagles soaring high, never worried. Their sharp eyes could spot every inn along the caravan routes, and her blue roan followed their shadows faithfully, never missing a single resting place.

After several days, crossing the grasslands and the desert, she reached the banks of the Blackwater River. The eagles cried out and circled above an inn by the road.

Cheng Lingsu drew a deep breath, knowing she had finally stepped onto the soil of the Central Plains. She was about to spur her horse toward the inn when suddenly the familiar sound of camel bells reached her ears.

Her brows furrowed slightly. The bells were different from those she had heard among merchants’ caravans. Drawing closer, she saw four snow-white camels by the roadside, tossing their heads and making the bells jingle.

Author’s Note: A little background on the sources of Lingsu’s medicines and plants—this young man is not just a minor character, but will have an important role to play! Farewell to the prairie and desert—though I’ve never been to the desert, I have seen the grasslands, and the endless expanse really does look just like Windows wallpaper~

Here are two photos I took of blue skies, white clouds, grasslands, and adorable horses—truly beautiful!

Below is a snippet of conversation between me and my best friend about this chapter—

Me: What should I do if the male lead keeps disappearing~?
Friend: Just leave his jj behind!
Me: His jj is still out there, sowing wild oats…
Ouyang Ke: