Chapter 56: Coming to Stir Up Trouble (Part One)

Sangkun and Jamukha, intent on ensuring the success of this campaign with a single strike, had mobilized nearly all their main forces, assembling them outside the camp. Only a few sentries patrolled the outer perimeter, while some stragglers and women remained behind to guard the livestock and treasures. In a secluded corner of the camp, Cheng Lingsu and her companions attracted little notice, for few people paid attention to that area.

The clear waters of the Onon River, source of all Mongol bloodlines, ran deep and icy. The vast grasslands undulated gently, and under the iron hooves of fine steeds, clouds of green shadows billowed like drifting snow, blending sky and earth into a single line. One felt that if one simply spurred a horse onward, following the endless steppe, one could break through the layers of white cloud and reach the very edge of the heavens.

At the Onon River’s source, brave and high-spirited Mongol warriors, passionate maidens skilled in song and dance, and a sea of voices filled the air. Wang Khan had fled, Sangkun had fallen, Jamukha was captured, and all raised their cups in celebration for Temujin, whose might now thundered across the desert.

Everyone had gone to the river’s source, leaving Temujin’s great camp suddenly silent, devoid of all human sound.

Outside a certain tent, a small wooden cauldron stood in a corner, its deep yellow hue blending almost seamlessly with the tent’s dull canvas. If one did not look closely, even in the usual bustle, no one would have given notice to this exquisite, jade-like object, no larger than a palm.

A thin, frail young man seemed to appear out of thin air, standing half a pace from the cauldron, motionless. He wore an ordinary Mongolian robe, hanging loose on his frame, billowing in the wind.

“Are you leaving?” He suddenly looked up, revealing a face far too gaunt and withered for one so young. He spoke in Mandarin, his voice hoarse and grating, reminiscent of an old wooden window creaking in the cold wind.

The tent flap shifted, and Cheng Lingsu emerged, a small bundle over her shoulder and a basin of flowers in her hands. She switched hands, walked to the corner, picked up the wooden cauldron, and held it in her palm.

The young man startled, stepping back as if avoiding a wild beast. Seeing his reaction, Cheng Lingsu sighed, set the flowerpot on the ground, and took out a cloth to wrap the cauldron carefully.

“I’m a merchant. Since the item is sold, don’t let me see it again.” Though his face had regained some color, the young man’s words still trembled. He fumbled a cloth pouch from his robe and tossed it to Cheng Lingsu. “This is what you asked for last time. Check it.”

Cheng Lingsu attached the wrapped cauldron to her belt before opening the pouch. Inside lay a knife barely the length of a finger, its blade thin and razor sharp, and four gold needles of varying lengths.

“Well?” The young man watched her intently, unwilling to miss a single change in her expression.

“Yes, this is exactly right.” Cheng Lingsu picked up the knife between thumb and forefinger, examined it, then wrapped it up with the needles and tucked them into her bosom. “Thank you.”

“And my payment?” The young man, clearly relieved, now looked at her with a trace of longing.

Cheng Lingsu lifted the flowerpot and offered it to him. “Take all these flowers. Place a wine jar beside the pot, and every three months, pick a blue blossom and bury it in the soil. Not only will snakes and scorpions keep away, but within ten paces nothing will grow and no insect will survive.”

His eyes lit up with joy. “So... I’ll never have to worry about poisonous insects crawling on me again?”

Cheng Lingsu nodded. “The blue and white flowers are mutually reinforcing and restraining. As long as the central plant, ‘Thihuxiang,’ remains, you can cultivate more blue blooms yourself.”

Trembling with excitement, the young man hugged the flowerpot tightly to his chest.

“I really must go now.”

At these words, he turned and began to leave at once.

Cheng Lingsu raised her voice after him. “These years, you’ve helped me find things from all over. Though it was business, I’ve gained a great deal from you. The seeds for these flowers came from your search; I only managed to keep them alive. So this time, consider it a debt I owe you. If you ever need anything, come find me.”

He kept his head down, his gaze fixed on the pot, as if he hadn’t heard her.

Cheng Lingsu sighed again, glancing back towards the source of the Onon, where the sounds of revelry rolled in waves across the grassland. She led out the dark-maned steed tethered at the tent, mounted nimbly, found her direction, and spurred her horse southward.

“Hua Zheng! Hua Zheng!” She had ridden only a dozen miles when eagle cries split the sky above. Behind her, the thunder of hooves and cracking whips drew steadily closer.

Cheng Lingsu reined in her horse and looked back, surprised to see Tolui, who should have been at the Onon gathering, galloping after her alone. Two young white eagles, newly learned to fly, circled in the air before swooping low, their wings skimming past her mount’s head.

Tolui pulled up sharply half a pace from her, his horse rearing with a shrill neigh. Sweating and flustered, he untied a leather pouch from his saddle, rode up, and fastened it to hers. “Father will be angry, but you’re still his daughter. If you ever tire of wandering and wish to return, don’t be afraid—just come home.”

“Brother Tolui…” Cheng Lingsu had thought he’d come to stop her and had been preparing to explain herself. She was surprised by his gentle words.

Tolui leaned over from his saddle, his arm coming to rest lightly on her shoulder. “If you ride south, you’ll reach the Jin Empire. The Jurchens love treachery. Wang Khan’s sudden attack on Father was instigated by their Prince Wanyan Honglie. They’re not like us steppe folk; their word can’t be trusted. Be careful not to be deceived.”

Cheng Lingsu couldn’t help but laugh, nodding as she whistled. The two white eagles answered with ringing cries and landed on their shoulders.

She stroked one eagle’s talon; it bent its head and nuzzled its hooked beak into her palm, then flapped its wings.

“You’d better go. If Father finds we’re both missing, he’ll send people searching.” Tolui waved, trying to shoo the eagle from her shoulder. But the bird, clever and willful, pecked sharply at his hand instead.

Its beak, though not yet fully grown, left a vivid red mark. Watching Tolui stare in shock at his hand, Cheng Lingsu burst out laughing.

Her clear laughter mingled with the sighing wind, and the grass tips rippled in green waves, as if dancing in time with nature’s sweetest music.

She could not recall when last she had laughed so freely. The melancholy that had clung to her heart now drifted away with her laughter. Whether Medicine King Manor or the Mongol desert, Cheng Lingsu had always been one to leave as she pleased. Light at heart, she patted Tolui’s shoulder, bade him take care, and turned her horse south, never looking back.

The two white eagles spread their wings like twin clouds, tracing graceful arcs behind her. For a moment, with one to the left and the other to the right, it seemed her galloping dark-maned steed had grown wings. The girl’s long hair streamed behind her, as if she were riding beyond the world itself.

Above, the sky was layered with drifting clouds, serene and gentle, occasionally parting to reveal a blue so pure it pierced the soul. The endless steppe and desert stretched to the very edge of sight, seeming to have no end.

Cheng Lingsu rode on, the wind whistling in her ears and the vast landscape spreading before her, her heart brimming with exhilaration.

On these wild sands and green plains, it was easy to lose one’s way. Even seasoned merchants advanced with caution, stopping every few miles to regain their bearings. But Cheng Lingsu had no such concerns. The two white eagles soared high, their keen eyes spotting the waystations along the trade routes from afar. Her dark-maned horse followed their flight, never missing a place to rest.

After several days, she left the grasslands and deserts behind and reached the banks of the Blackwater River. The white eagles circled above a roadside inn, announcing her arrival.

Cheng Lingsu took a deep breath, knowing she had finally set foot in the Central Plains. She was about to ride toward the inn when she heard a familiar sound of camel bells.

Her brow furrowed slightly. This was not the usual jingle of caravans, but something different—and as she drew closer, she saw four snow-white camels resting by the road, tossing their heads and ringing their bells in the sun.

Author’s note: A little background on Lingsu’s medicinal herbs and their sources—this young man is no mere passerby and will play an important role later~

Farewell, grasslands and desert! I’ve yet to see the desert’s round moon, but I have seen the grasslands, and they truly stretch on and on, just like the Windows desktop~

Here are two photos I took of blue sky, white clouds, and adorable colts on the grasslands—absolutely beautiful~

And here’s a snippet of conversation about this chapter:

Me: What do I do when the male lead keeps disappearing?

Friend: Just leave his… behind!

Me: It’s still wandering around…

Ouyang Ke: