Chapter 113: Toward the Turks (Part I)

The journey was a stop-and-go affair, with traces of war visible everywhere. Pushing northward like ascetic monks, they traversed land so parched that entire regions seemed devoid of life. The grasslands stretched toward the horizon, where wildflowers had long withered, leaving only stems swaying in the wind. Beyond a few elk, there were almost no living creatures to be seen.

Luo Gan felt his body growing increasingly heavy. Beneath the horses’ hooves, a mixture of slush and dirt made for treacherous footing; one lapse in attention could cause a horse to stumble. Xiao Zhi was in an even worse state. Exhausted by the long trek, he had fallen asleep in the saddle and tumbled straight into the snow. Had the commotion not been so great, he might well have frozen into the northern permafrost.

"Xiao Zhi, what is wrong with you?" Luo Gan asked. "How can you fall asleep while riding a horse?"

Xiao Zhi cried out in misery, "Brother Luo, we’ve been riding for days and nights on end. It’s endless!"

Yan Shan was also parched and had little desire to talk. Everyone had brought their own water and dry rations, but Luo Gan, who hadn't yet adjusted from the comforts of modern life, found the reality far harsher than he had imagined.

The grasslands were not only desolate; food was scarce, and even the most basic water supply was unreliable. Sometimes, halfway through a stretch, the horses would be too thirsty to run, forcing them to slow down so the beasts could lick the snow off the ground. The men fared no better. Luo Gan had long since abandoned concerns for health or decorum; simply finding enough water to survive was a stroke of luck.

"Where are you all from?" Qin Yang asked. "You don't seem accustomed to such long-distance travel."

"Anping County," Xiao Zhi replied. "We came to Chang'an by a twist of fate."

Luo Gan thought to himself that it wasn't a matter of being unaccustomed to travel; he had traveled long distances before. But while riding a horse for fun was a leisurely pastime, a long-haul journey was a different story entirely. The constant jarring rhythm of the saddle left him dizzy and lightheaded. He had heard of motion sickness from cars, ships, and planes, but surely, if these people had ever ridden horses for this long, "horse sickness" would have to be added to the list.

"Brother, how far have we come?" Luo Gan asked. "Why is it still so far?"

Qin Yang looked into the distance and scanned the surroundings. "I don't know exactly where we are, but if we keep following this path, we should reach our destination in two days."

"Two days?" Yan Shan, who had been conserving his energy, finally let out a groan. It was torture; he could think of nothing but arriving in the Turkic lands so he could get it over with and go home.

The horses let out heavy, labored breaths, but the carriage remained silent.

"Wait a little longer," Qin Yang said. "The Duke of Ju has not yet issued any orders."

Luo Gan, having no other choice, looked for some amusement to pass the time. "Qin Yang, the name your parents gave you is a bit of a trap, isn't it?"

Qin Yang didn't quite grasp his meaning. He had been riding ahead, but he turned his horse around to pull up beside Luo Gan. "What did you say about my parents?"

"Think back to when Jing Ke attempted to assassinate the King of Qin," Luo Gan said. "Wasn't his accomplice named Qin Wuyang?"

"That’s not my parents' fault," Qin Yang replied. "We must accept the names we are given. How could that be improper?"

Luo Gan just smiled. Perhaps ancient people were truly bound by notions of loyalty and shame, keeping their desires hidden, or perhaps they simply didn't think in those terms, having grown accustomed to the way of life.

"That's fair enough," Luo Gan said. "If you like it yourself, it's a good name."

Qin Yang nodded, satisfied, and the anxiety on his face vanished.

"What kind of work do you all do?" Qin Yang asked, his gaze settling on Xiao Zhi with apparent interest.

"Before? I was just a waiter in a tavern. I don't have any special skills." Xiao Zhi’s eyes were hollow, avoiding Qin Yang’s gaze.

At the mention of a tavern, Yan Shan was reminded of the sweet, mellow wine of the Sword Immortal, and most importantly, the stunningly beautiful Lady Yun who stood at the entrance. If she were by his side, would he fear the freezing cold? He drifted into a daze.

"Actually," Luo Gan interjected, "we used to do good deeds for the people. We’d take on any job we could, as long as it wasn't illegal."

Qin Yang became intrigued. "Anything? That’s interesting. Do you deliver babies, too?"

Luo Gan waved his hand. "We don't do that. We don't have any female companions with us, so we can't."

"Interesting," Qin Yang said. "You call women 'companions'? Don't tell me you're a woman yourself?" He gave Luo Gan a skeptical look, scanning his physique.

"Calling them companions isn't strange," Luo Gan explained. "Men are companions, too. There’s no discrimination intended. Men and women should be equal and live in harmony."

Qin Yang was slightly taken aback. This group of plain-looking, unremarkable men was actually advocating for gender equality—an insult to all men under heaven! To think women could be placed on the same level as them.

"How strange," Qin Yang remarked. "To hear someone speak up for women... you truly are a peculiar man. But since you do everything, does anyone ever hire you to fight or kill, to go to the front lines?" He was clearly testing their combat prowess.

"Don't make us fight," Luo Gan said. "We aren't warriors. We’re just used to doing odd jobs in the county. If we were meant to fight, we might as well have joined the army in the first place."

After a long while, the carriage came to a halt. Tang Jian stepped out, stretched, and rubbed his head. "We've been jostling for so long, and we’re still so far from our destination," he remarked. "A person spends most of their life running here and there, and then, time is gone."

Qin Yang and the other soldiers felt a pang of sadness. Every one of them had been stationed at the frontier for years; once they left home, reuniting with their families was a rare luxury.

"Qin Yang," Tang Jian asked, "where is your home?"

Qin Yang bowed politely. "Reporting to the Duke of Ju, my home is in the Guannei region, in a remote village."

Tang Jian pondered this, a look of sorrow crossing his face. "Are your parents well?"

"I haven't been in touch for a long time," Qin Yang replied.

"Why not write letters home?" Tang Jian asked. "They are the parents who raised you; you must not forget them."

"I dare not forget... but I cannot write. I don't know a single character. How could I write?"

Tang Jian looked toward Luo Gan. "How about you? Can you write?"

Luo Gan was startled. Who didn't know how to write? He was about to answer readily, but then he remembered that in ancient times, people wrote in Traditional Chinese. His knowledge of Simplified characters would be useless here.

Xiao Zhi, however, was less guarded. "I can write," he replied.

Tang Jian gave Xiao Zhi a firm look and pointed at him. "Good lad. From now on, the task of writing for our soldiers is yours."

Qin Yang looked at Xiao Zhi with excitement, making the latter realize he had just fallen into a deep trap.

But seeing the hopeful gazes of the men, the strangers from afar looked at Xiao Zhi in a way that moved him. If his modest knowledge of ink could help these men solve their problems, it would surely be a good deed.

"Very well," Xiao Zhi said. "When we find paper, I will write your letters home for you."

Qin Yang asked with some embarrassment, "Could you also teach me to write? I’ve always felt uneducated, and I’m often mocked for it."