Chapter 253: Something Unexpected

Feeling a lingering sense of worry, I went back to the tents to ask around. I learned that Chen Canghai and Kuba had reacted quickly when the earthquake struck; they hadn’t fallen into the fissures. Once Fourth Brother found them, he had them forcibly sent back.

Following Tian Yuqing’s instructions, I handed the entire Burial Bone Testament over to Fourth Brother. However, I kept the copper piece that had come out of it for myself. Tian Yuqing hadn’t mentioned it, so it likely wasn’t that important, and I planned to study it on my own.

I had expected a blistering lecture for ignoring Fourth Brother’s orders, running back to save people despite knowing an earthquake was coming, and entering the tomb without permission. To my surprise, he didn’t scold me at all. He simply told me to let the wound on my leg heal and get some proper rest.

His uncharacteristic leniency caused my timid attitude to instantly flare back up into its usual arrogance.

We had spent over a week inside the Tomb of King Ne. By the time we emerged, Fourth Brother’s injuries were mostly healed. We’d lost all sense of time underground; if it hadn’t been for He Yu’s watch, our internal clocks would have been completely thrown off, which could have caused real physical issues. This served as a lesson for me: in this line of work, never skip the essentials. No matter how troublesome it seems, always bring something to keep time.

Less than half a day after we surfaced, both groups began packing up their tents to move camp. I was half-asleep on horseback as we were transported to a local settlement. The locals were incredibly kind and simple-hearted. As soon as they heard we were a research expedition, they poured us milk tea and prepared bedding for us to rest.

Word was that the Burial Bone Testament was written entirely in the script of the A-Surname Tribe. This tribe was a group that supposedly only existed in the legends of the Classic of Mountains and Seas, making research extremely difficult. Since our people needed time to recover, Fourth Brother and the other leaders of the Five Masters consulted with each other. With the locals’ consent, our team temporarily settled in with the villagers.

During the first two days in the yurt, I was a nervous wreck. At first, I didn’t dare have any contact with Tian Xiaoqi. After all, her grandfather had died while shielding me from a bullet. One could say the entire tragedy was my fault. But on second thought, I realized I shouldn’t be avoiding her. Elder Tian died to save me; at the very least, I owed her an apology and needed to kowtow to the old man’s spirit.

Then there was Han Zhuo. Fourth Brother handled the communication on that front. I don’t know what was said between them, but for a long time, I couldn’t escape the shadow of that day. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the scene of Han Zhuo being shot dead.

By the third day, the weather began to warm up. Given the harsh environment and lack of facilities, leaving the bodies for too long would inevitably lead to an odor. Keeping them there wasn’t a long-term solution. I asked Fourth Brother for a contact, reached out to a transport service willing to take the remains, and followed all the traditional customs: cutting the “knife head” meat, laying out gold ingots, and burning spirit money. I handled most of the arrangements myself before finally sending Tian Xiao’s body back to his hometown for cremation.

With that, Tian Xiao became the second person in the Five Masters to be cremated.

Tian Xiaoqi cried for days, her eyes never once losing their puffiness. She remained trapped in a state of profound grief. Every time I saw her, I would open my mouth to speak, but the words would die in my throat. I lacked the courage, so I had to set the matter aside for the time being.

We stayed in Inner Mongolia for a long period. During that time, the professors gathered to study that tattered map. He Yu and I had nothing to do, so we spent our days riding horses and wandering about. He taught me how to ride, and the two of us spent three months consulting the locals. Our equestrian skills improved significantly; now, I could gallop with my eyes closed without falling off.

Once Tian Xiaoqi emerged from her gloom, she officially joined our “Unemployed Vagrant Squad,” roaming wild with us every day. She didn’t mind the dirt or the exhaustion, helping the locals herd, catch, and shear sheep without missing a beat. When she returned, her hair and clothes would be covered in grass, yet she’d still be grinning from ear to ear.

Later, a local named Hairigu remarked that the three of us hadn’t managed to catch a single sheep, but we had certainly caused plenty of chaos. Emotionally, however, we were deeply satisfied. We could clean off three large bowls of food at every meal, and the He kid could put away four.

Hairigu was a year younger than me. Despite his teasing, we felt no shame. The next time he went out to herd sheep, we followed him just the same. Through these constant interactions, we became good friends with the lad.

One day, as we finished driving the sheep into their pen and sat on the ground to rest, we noticed a steady stream of tourists arriving.

I asked Hairigu if there was an important holiday coming up, wondering why the place had suddenly become so lively.

He told me that in a few days, they would hold the Aobao Sacrifice^[1]. That was when the grasslands truly came alive. There would be sacrificial ceremonies where people gathered before the Aobao to pray for blessings, followed by horse racing and archery. It was a grand, lively affair.

I’m a bit of an oddball. I’m fine with small gatherings of two or three people, but as soon as I hear about a large, bustling event, I tend to retreat into my shell. At most, I’ll just stand on the sidelines and watch.

He Yu was different. He loved to throw himself into any excitement. Hairigu’s father was in charge of the event, and once He Yu heard how much fun it would be, he immediately went over to report to him, claiming he was deeply interested in traditional Inner Mongolian festivals. Acting as a self-appointed “ambassador of ethnic friendship,” he declared that he wanted to participate alongside the people of the grasslands. Hairigu’s father was a straightforward man of the plains, so he led He Yu outside right then and there to shoot a few arrows.

The result was three attempts: twice the bowstring was too heavy for him to draw, and the one arrow he did manage to loose landed on someone else’s target. He even tried to cover his embarrassment, claiming the bow had a “spirited nature” and probably hadn’t recognized him as its master yet. I had been watching from the side, but after hearing his nonsense, even my thick skin couldn’t take it anymore, and I slunk back into the tent.

He Yu’s “Grand Grassland People’s Gathering Plan” was essentially dead in the water.

The custom of the Aobao Sacrifice went back centuries, and the countless Aobao of various sizes scattered across the grasslands were all products of this tradition. I listened to Hairigu explain much of it and gained a basic understanding. He said that for nomadic people like the Mongols, whenever they left their ancestral lands to migrate, they would gather a stone and a handful of soil. They would place them at the highest point of their new territory, eventually building an Aobao to serve as a shrine.

Passed down through generations, the tradition had evolved into various forms, but its core meaning was always about good fortune: praying for favorable weather and peace for both people and livestock in the coming year.

On the actual day of the Aobao Sacrifice, He Yu and I were only fit to snag a good spot early to watch the others wrestle and gallop across the grasslands.

It was an incredibly lively day. Kuba came as well. He and He Yu watched those Mongolian men wrestle with blood-pumping excitement, and I was swept up in the passion of the grasslands too, joining the crowd to shout a few cheers.

Next came Hairigu’s mounted archery. Despite the immense draw weight of his bow, he could still hit his target dead center while riding a galloping horse. Watching from the side, I was genuinely impressed; I hadn’t realized the kid actually had real skill.

By evening, pairs of lovers began to appear across the plains. They were all pretty young women and handsome lads; the girls had long braids, and the evening glow cast a golden sheen over them as they sat on the grass chatting, waiting for the sunset. Kuba, who had yet to taste the bitterness of love, looked on with deep envy.

He Yu was envious too. The two of them sat huddled together on the grass, watching the beauty of other people’s romance with long, drooping faces, looking as miserable as a pair of French bulldogs.

After the archery ended, I scanned the area and felt like someone was missing. After doing a quick head count, I realized Tian Xiaoqi wasn’t there. I searched around but couldn’t find her, so I went to ask He Yu.

He Yu was currently wallowing in his own frustration. He swiped my hand away and pointed impatiently toward a ridge where several girls were making wishes at the Aobao. I spotted Tian Xiaoqi’s horse immediately; she was up there too.

“Isn’t she right there?” He Yu snapped. “Stop being such an old lady. The girl is making a wish and you have to stick your nose in that too? Get lost and let your brother contemplate the meaning of life in peace.”

After being snapped at for no reason, I felt a bit foolish. I decided to just take a walk on my own. The grassland breeze was cool, and the evening was the most refreshing time of day. The air felt wonderful, and my mood began to improve along with it.

I leaned against a tree and squinted slightly, wondering if I should apologize to Tian Xiaoqi. Then again, I thought, the girl had only just started to cheer up; bringing up her painful memories might backfire. And then there was that bronze piece. It didn’t seem to have any hidden mechanisms, but the shape looked familiar, like I’d seen it somewhere before. Where exactly was that thing supposed to be used?

Just as my mind was a jumble of thoughts, the sound of hoofbeats approached from a distance.

I turned my head and locked eyes with Tian Xiaoqi’s little white horse, which startled me so much I instinctively took a half-step back.

“Give me a heads-up next time, little sister,” I said to Tian Xiaoqi as she jumped down from the saddle. “What kind of wish takes that long? I’ve been looking for you for ages. I thought you’d gotten lost in the crowd.”

“There’s hardly anyone left now, so I wouldn’t get lost.” Tian Xiaoqi held her small riding crop and gave me a brilliant smile.

“The wind is getting cold and everyone else has headed back. Let’s go.” I naturally reached out to take her horse’s reins, intending to walk back with her.

Just as I turned around, she suddenly shoved something into my arms. The object was quite light, and I failed to catch it at first. I hurriedly dropped the reins to grab it, and Tian Xiaoqi seized that exact opening to nimbly vault back onto her horse. She flicked the whip and galloped away.

“Hey! Come back! Stop playing around, it’s late, we have to go back!”

I was completely bewildered. I shouted after her a few times, but she feigned deafness and didn’t even look back. I had no choice but to pick up the object from the ground and hold it up to my eyes. The moment I saw it, I felt my heart sink. The shock cleared my head instantly.

I stood there frozen as several possible solutions flashed through my mind.

Just then, He Yu, Kuba, and Hairigu lunged out from behind me. Instinctively, I turned away to hide the object inside my coat, but He Yu’s hands were too quick. With a flick of his finger, he snatched the item right out of my arms.

“Oho! You’ve got something good and you’re not sharing it with your brothers? How exquisite! A hand-embroidered pouch, isn’t it? Why is Xiaoqi being so good to you? She didn’t give me one just now. I’m going to go find her!”

He Yu started rolling up his sleeves to go after Tian Xiaoqi, but Kuba grabbed him from behind. Speaking in his heavily accented Mandarin, Kuba said, “No, no. This was given to him. You cannot go ask for one.”

He Yu stuffed the pouch back into my hand. “Why not?”

Kuba looked at him without explaining, simply chuckling. Seeing him laugh, He Yu suddenly had an epiphany. “Oh, you mean it’s that?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what it means,” Kuba laughed heartily. He turned to me. “Quick, young man. Take my horse and bring the girl back. The sun is setting; it isn’t safe for her to ride out so far alone.”

He Yu chuckled and clapped me on the shoulder. “You lucky dog, haha!”

I frowned, my expression darkening. Even so, I took the reins Kuba offered and mounted the horse. Seeing my face, He Yu quickly stopped laughing. He stood on tiptoe and leaned in. “Do you want me to bring her back instead?”

Kuba’s commotion had already drawn a crowd. They were all looking at me with clear expressions of blessing and congratulations, and many of them were workers from the Tian Family. If I didn’t go after her, it would likely damage Tian Xiaoqi’s reputation.

Gazing out at the open wilderness, I tucked the pouch away and said in a low voice to He Yu, “I’ll go bring her back. Then I’m returning the pouch.”