Chapter 5#
Equestrian Skills#
Hunda generously placed the rabbit into Jin Yang’s arms: “I heard Dayu people are good at eating. Do you know how to cook rabbit?”
“I do.” Jin Yang looked up and smiled at him. “Have you heard of ‘Bo Xia Gong’?”
Hunda couldn’t even accurately repeat the phrase: “Never heard of it.”
Jin Yang continued: “Slice the rabbit meat, add seasoning to a pot of clear water, and cook it briefly. But some ingredients might not be available here on Yetai. I’ll have to look.”
Hunda reined in his horse and stopped in front of him, leaning down: “What ingredients? Tell me. I know Dayu merchants. I can have them bring it.”
Jin Yang still wore that friendly smile, his dark eyes reflecting Hunda’s face with its newly grown tufts of beard: “Alright, let me think carefully.”
Hunda seemed to want to say more, but catching a glimpse of Helan Feng approaching from the corner of his eye, he gave a cold snort: “Your master is back.”
Helan Feng glanced at Hunda, then at the rabbit clutched tightly in Jin Yang’s arms: “All he’s good for is catching rabbits.”
Hunda glared with wide eyes: “What did you say!”
Jin Yang hugged the rabbit and swiftly fled the battlefield.
Helan Feng quickly followed. The smile Jin Yang had just shown Hunda was now completely gone. When he looked up at Helan Feng, his dark eyes were calm and cold again. A strange, sulky grievance rose in Helan Feng’s heart.
He couldn’t keep the words inside: “Are you friends with Hunda now?”
Jin Yang: “No.”
Helan Feng: “You took his rabbit.”
Jin Yang stopped walking. “Because you don’t like Hunda, I can’t associate with him?” There wasn’t a hint of anger on his face, just a calm narration. “Helan Feng, I am your slave. Are you planning to control even who I speak with?”
“He hurt you, and you still smile at him?” Helan Feng tried to snatch the rabbit from Jin Yang’s arms, but Jin Yang protected the soft little creature fiercely. “Don’t you hate him?”
Jin Yang wouldn’t let him take it. Only after Helan Feng withdrew his hand did he reply: “I don’t have the time to hate him.”
Seeing Helan Feng fall silent, Jin Yang continued walking. Helan Feng fumed for a moment, then followed closely, raising his voice: “I brought you something from Dayu.”
Jin Yang turned back, genuinely pleasantly surprised: “What?”
The two rushed into the slave tent. Helan Feng pointed to a corner, a hint of smugness appearing on his usually stubborn face.
Huddled in the corner was a deer-hide mat. At the sound of voices, the young girl on the mat sat up straight. Her hair was cut haphazardly, her face was covered in dust, and seeing the two men before her, she shrank back in fear, tightening her neck.
Jin Yang was stunned: “This is…”
“A Dayu slave I bought for you.” Even Helan Feng’s voice carried a hint of excitement. “With her as company, you won’t be bored.”
Jin Yang was instantly dizzy with fury. The wound on his back had healed, but now it suddenly began to throb with heat again, as if that iron arrow had never been removed, but had taken root in his flesh and blood.
“You’re insane! How could you buy me a slave!” he shouted. “What do you think people are!”
The other slaves in the tent were terrified and immediately dropped to their knees, trembling. Helan Feng, grabbed by the collar and seeing Jin Yang lose his temper at him, flared up in return: “What? Don’t Dayu households have slaves?”
“That’s different!”
“How is it different?” He pried Jin Yang’s hand away. “Isn’t a living person better than Hunda’s rabbit?”
Jin Yang found it impossible to communicate with Helan Feng on this issue: “How can you compare a person to a rabbit!”
The rabbit had already leaped from Jin Yang’s arms and bounded out of the tent. Helan Feng straightened his collar, a nameless, irritable frustration welling up inside him: “I heard every household in Dayu has slaves. How is it suddenly wrong in Beirong? Dayu people can buy slaves, but Beirong people can’t? You’re too hypocritical.”
This word “hypocritical” enraged Jin Yang so much that he spoke without thinking: “Beirong people, Beirong people, but you’re not even Beirong yourself!”
Helan Feng’s expression froze. A complex mix of emotions churned in his wolf-like eyes, which hadn’t yet shed their youthful appearance. He didn’t know how to respond at that moment. In his inarticulateness, a new anger emerged, as if he couldn’t believe these words had actually come from Jin Yang’s mouth. Shame, fury, resentment, and grievance tangled together. He turned and stormed off.
The slaves in the tent scurried out, leaving only Jin Yang and the newly purchased slave girl. Jin Yang gasped for breath, and regret gradually filled his heart.
He had misspoken.
Helan Feng, filled with pent-up frustration, ran like the wind to the small pine forest on Chiwang Plain.
Chiwang Plain didn’t have many tall trees, but it had several broad patches of pine and birch forest. The small pine forest was closest to Yetai and was Helan Feng’s favorite place. In his childhood, with no children in the camp to play with, the three siblings had whiled away the long hours in this forest. Helan Jinying had used wooden boards and Xileng poles to build a sturdy little shelter in the largest pine tree. Zhuozhuo loved coming here to sleep in the summer.
Helan Feng lay in the dry grass of the little shelter, staring blankly overhead.
Seven or eight Xileng poles stood on the thick pine branches, their other ends gathered and tied together, then covered with a layer of felt to block wind and rain – the simplest kind of shelter. Where the Xileng poles met, a small gap was left. The snow on the treetop had been shredded by the wind and drifted lazily down through the opening, landing on Helan Feng.
For a moment, Helan Feng couldn’t figure out why he was angry.
Jin Yang was right. He wasn’t Beirong.
From the moment he was born, blood from both Gaoshin and Han people flowed in his veins. He also had a pair of wolf-like eyes and features that more closely resembled the Han people, inherited from his green-eyed father and his beautifully featured mother.
In Beirong legend, the Gaoshin people from the northwestern frontier were incarnations of disaster. Their green eyes were proof of punishment by the Wolf God: the ancient, solemn deity had hidden the soul of an evil wolf within the Gaoshin people. Green-eyed Gaoshin would devour their parents, siblings, and children, destroy rivers and valleys, and bring sweeping disasters upon the earth.
When Helan Feng was born, the people of Yetai had already accepted his father and elder brother. But after his parents died one after another, the legend seemed to be confirmed, and everything gradually began to change.
Helan Jinying was already a teenager then, the most handsome rider in Yetai, yet he wasn’t even qualified to participate in equestrian competitions. After selling the family’s two horses, the brothers finally scraped together a little money and grain to save their infant sister from a severe illness.
But the rumors didn’t stop. Zhuozhuo was too young, and Helan Jinying was strong enough. Young Helan Feng became the most suitable target.
Helan Jinying was often away hunting or herding, and Zhuozhuo was cared for by the camp women. He could only protect himself: alongside Du Ze, he followed behind Hunda’s horse, enduring his ridicule and his whips; he spoke Beirong, mocked his own wolf eyes, and like the Beirong boys, drank Beirong wine in large gulps, used the small knife his father had left him to cut mutton and horsemeat, and learned to handle the wind camels.
Helan Jinying had laughed at him, advising him not to be like this. But for a ten-year-old child, the pain and suffering of being ignored and rejected was earth-shattering.
To survive on Chiwang Plain, he first had to become a Beirong.
But when Jin Yang abruptly blurted it out, Helan Feng felt a rough but lasting hurt. He had saved Jin Yang once, and he had thought Jin Yang should be different from those other people.
Someone knocked on the tree trunk, and a flurry of snow fell from above: “Helan Feng.”
After a long silence with no answer, Helan Jinying laughed from below the tree: “Fought with your little slave?”
Helan Feng poked his head out: “What are you doing here?”
“To give you advice.” Helan Jinying smiled. “If he makes you angry, make him do hard labor. If you’re still angry, give him to Hunda. I see Hunda quite likes him…”
Helan Feng listened quietly to his nonsense, the rejection clear in his expression.
Helan Jinying said enough and stopped, tapping his riding whip lightly against the tree trunk, looking up at his younger brother.
“I know you can’t bear to,” he said. “He’s your friend.”
Helan Feng finally spoke: “He’s not.”
“Only friends would get angry over this kind of thing.”
Helan Feng sat up straight abruptly: “You eavesdropped on us!”
“Just happened to pass by. I warned you, Dayu people are strange, everyone precious. Jin Yang never considered you a friend.” Helan Jinying said, “But he insulted you, so he’s in the wrong. I just beat him up.”
Helan Feng was startled: “He just recovered from being sick!”
Helan Jinying: “He’s only got half a breath left. Want to go see?”
Helan Feng scrambled down the tree, mounted Helan Jinying’s horse, and headed back.
Ever since becoming a centurian and moving into a new tent, the brothers each had cattle and horses. Zhuozhuo had learned a word from Jin Yang and now called herself “a wealthy family” every day. Helan Jinying wanted to ask Helan Feng if he liked the black Gaoshin horse, but Helan Feng was distracted.
“Big brother, where are we from?”
Helan Jinying answered without hesitation: “Gaoshin.”
“…But our mother was Han.”
“So we are also Han.” Helan Jinying replied casually.
“How can that be?”
“Why can’t it be?” Helan Jinying smiled. “Is there a heavenly god on Chiwang Plain who stipulates that a person can only belong to one piece of land? A hundred years ago, there were no Beirong here, and in a hundred years, there won’t be any Dayu under heaven. Right now, we are on Chiwang Plain. You could even say you are a person of Chiwang Plain.”
A sudden lightness filled Helan Feng’s heart: “A person of Chiwang Plain?”
“Right!” Helan Jinying squeezed his horse’s sides, and the animal galloped across the snowy plain. He held his brother before him. “We have horses, we have two legs. We can go anywhere under heaven! Wherever you want to be from, just go there!”
Helan Feng was infected by his spirit, letting out a loud whoop on horseback, his heart filled with elation. Helan Jinying rode around the small pine forest a few times before loosening the reins, letting the horse walk slowly back towards Yetai.
“Truly wanting to be friends with the hostage, sending slaves and rabbits won’t work,” Helan Jinying said suddenly. “Why not learn Han script from him?”
Helan Feng looked at Helan Jinying’s handsome face, half illuminated by sunlight: “I can speak Han.”
“But you can’t write it.” Helan Jinying ruffled his hair. Helan Feng’s hair color was darker than his, only showing a deep golden sheen in strong sunlight. “You don’t even know how to write his name.”
Helan Feng lowered his head.
“Learn to write Han script, learn some Han customs…” Helan Jinying said seemingly offhandedly, “Ask him about things in Dayu. What the Jin family is like, what the streets of Liangjing look like, where the Imperial Palace is… Just have him draw you a map of Liangjing. While drawing, you’ll start talking.”
Helan Jinying had, of course, not beaten Jin Yang. Helan Feng rushed into the slave tent like a gust of wind, only to see Jin Yang wiping the face of the young girl. He took one look, froze for a moment, then turned and rushed out again like another gust of wind.
Jin Yang: “…?”
He came and went so fast that Jin Yang hadn’t even had time to apologize.
He had already carefully cleaned the girl’s hands, feet, and face. He couldn’t help but feel she bore a slight resemblance to the young daughter of Minister Fang next door to the Jin residence.
“…They didn’t bully you, did they?” Jin Yang asked.
The girl shook her head.
“What’s your name?” Jin Yang asked again.
The girl took his hand and wrote characters on his palm, stroke by stroke.
Jin Yang was startled in his heart: She couldn’t speak.
“Ruan Buqi…” Jin Yang asked, “Where is your hometown?”
Ruan Buqi wrote for him: Wandering for a long time, scared on the road, forgot many things.
Jin Yang’s heart ached. He held her hand tightly, as if speaking to her, but also to himself: “Don’t be afraid. I’ll take you back to Dayu with me.”
The rabbit had run off. The next day, Hunda came to Jin Yang asking for his “Bo Xia Gong.” Jin Yang naturally couldn’t provide it. Before Hunda could get angry, Jin Yang quickly said: “Or you could teach me to ride? I want to try hunting rabbits too.”
Du Ze stood nearby, looking Jin Yang up and down. Jin Yang really didn’t look like a rider capable of hunting rabbits. Although this period of slavery had made him a bit darker and sturdier, he still stood out as different among the Beirong.
But Hunda agreed. He was eager to show off his family’s wealth in front of Jin Yang and actively invited him to see his horse stable.
General Hu’s stable held seven or eight fine horses, all Beirong or Gaoshin breeds, tall, sturdy, with glossy coats.
“The best horses in Yetai are all in my stable,” Hunda said proudly.
“I know, everyone in Yetai says so.” Jin Yang looked at Hunda with admiration. “Hunda, with my aptitude, how long do you think it will take me to learn?”
A quarter of an hour later, Hunda gave Jin Yang his answer: “I think you’ll never learn.”
Jin Yang clung to the saddle with both hands, unable to mount no matter how he kicked his legs. The horse was gentle-tempered, its tail lazily swishing. After a long while, it snorted through its nose.
Jin Yang was embarrassed: “It’s too tall.”
Hunda: “…This is the shortest one.”
He braced Jin Yang’s back and waist, forcing him onto the horse’s back. Before Jin Yang could even sit up straight, the horse took half a step forward, scaring him flat onto the saddle, clutching the reins for dear life: “Why is it moving!”
Hunda: “It’s not moving.”
The horse, uncomfortable from being reined in, shook its head and took another two steps. Jin Yang: “It’s moving again!”
Hunda: “It’s not!”
He was utterly exhausted and began to persuade Jin Yang to give up learning to ride, saying playing with rabbits was enough.
Ruan Buqi sat by the paddock, watching with great amusement.
A black horse approached slowly. On its back, Helan Feng asked expressionlessly: “What is he doing?”
Ruan Buqi hurriedly stood up, gesturing to describe the situation to him.
Helan Feng looked at Jin Yang from afar, feeling both surprised and amused.
“The son of General Zhong Zhao doesn’t know how to ride?” he murmured to Ruan Buqi. “Only a fool like Hunda would believe that.”
Author’s Note:
Treat everyone to “Bo Xia Gong” today. This name is too elegant – using chopsticks to swish thin slices of rabbit meat in a clear broth pot, like stirring clouds and rosy mist.