Though she was usually served by palace maids, being alone with a complete man, even her “old husband,” made her embarrassed, her face turning red.
Xi Linxuan bent down to check the water temperature. “It’s a bit cool.”
“Did you secure the sheep pen gate?” Weilin asked.
“Yes.”
“Did you feed the dogs?”
“The water’s getting cooler,” Xi Linxuan said.
“Maybe you should go check again,” Weilin suggested.
Xi Linxuan thought and nodded. “Right.” At the door, he instructed her, “If any neighbors drop by, say I’m outside. Don’t let them in.”
Weilin waved him back, thinking it’d be better to blow out the lamp to avoid awkwardness if someone unexpectedly entered.
With the lamp out and Xi Linxuan guarding the door, Weilin discreetly removed her robe and wiped herself with a towel, feeling her sweat unbearable. After cleaning her front, she struggled to reach her back. Suddenly, a hand took the towel, almost making her scream.
Oh, who else could it be but Xi Linxuan?
The towel gently wiped her back. Though Xi Linxuan’s hand didn’t touch her skin, Weilin’s face grew hot; she unconsciously clutched her robe to her front.
“Chenbi!” Xi Linxuan’s voice was low.
“Yes? What?” she was nervous.
“You…”
“Yes?”
“How many days has it been since you last bathed?” Xi Linxuan asked.
Wei Linxia’s tense emotions were dissolved by Xi Linxuan’s one sentence, replaced by a small flame flickering on her head, silently lashing at him. Upon their reunion, he broached the subject without tenderness.
Gritting her teeth, Wei Linxia said, “What do you mean ‘hmm’? Can’t you see I’m counting on my fingers? So many days and back and forth trips?”
She seemed to hear Xi Linxuan laugh.
“What are you laughing at? It’s your fault for living so far away, making me search everywhere,” she added.
As they entered the grasslands, they met people from the small settlement where Xi Linxuan was originally placed. The few remaining residents shared that their settlement had been infected by an unknown disease years ago, resulting in nearly everyone dying within half a year. When they inquired about someone surnamed Qiu, the men scratched their heads, stating he seemed to be gone too. At that moment, Wei Linxia’s vision darkened, and she felt a surge in her chest, nearly spitting out blood.
Despite the guards’ reluctance to speak, Wei Linxia insisted on searching the entire grassland for him, determined to find even a grave hidden in the wild grass, believing Xi Linxuan would leave her something and not disappear silently.
They continued walking through the grasslands until they approached the original settlement’s location, where a person surnamed Qiu still lived. He had never migrated and remained alone in his tent, guarding a flock of sheep and several fierce herding dogs. Now that everyone had returned, they had formed a small settlement again.
Wei Linxia’s heart had never truly settled until she saw him alive.
“Okay, it’s clean now,” Xi Linxuan said, washing a handkerchief and wiping her face. “Clean your face, and I’ll apply something good so you don’t become a yellow-faced woman.”
Wei Linxia tilted her face up, adjusting her robe while enjoying his service. “What good thing?”
Xi Linxuan took something from his chest, poured it on his hand, and gently patted her face. The strong scent of milk mixed with a slightly pungent smell filled the air. Wei Linxia accidentally licked Xi Linxuan’s palm, confirming it was sheep’s milk.
“It’s just sheep’s milk, why be so secretive? This will need to be washed off later, or it’ll smell,” Wei Linxia said.
“No need. Go to sleep. I’m not afraid you’ll stink me up,” Xi Linxuan replied.
“Who would stink you up? Just turn over.” Wei Linxia wiped her legs and washed her feet as Xi Linxuan lit the candle.
The grassland night was quiet, without unexpected sounds or disturbances.
Wei Linxia had slept soundly during the day but found herself staring at the tent ceiling.
“This pillow looks new,” Wei Linxia noted.
“Newly replaced,” Xi Linxuan replied, holding her tightly as if fearing she might run away.
“What about the old one?” she asked.
“Thrown away. I knew you’d struggle to sleep after a long day,” he said, patting her.
The next morning, Wei Linxia woke to bright light in the tent and found Xi Linxuan gone. As she dressed, she heard unfamiliar voices outside, mingled with Xi Linxuan’s, but she couldn’t understand them.
Xi Linxuan returned, bringing coolness with him. He placed his whip by the door and carried a nearly lifeless goose.
“Where did this come from?” Wei Linxia asked.
“Hunted it last night. They’re having a bonfire party to welcome you, and this is our contribution,” he explained.
“Welcoming me? The grassland people are so hospitable,” Wei Linxia replied with a smile.
Xi Linxuan went to prepare the goose. Wei Linxia washed her hands to help make soup but recalled the books she’d read that only described grassland heroes fighting, racing horses, and feasting, never detailing how to gather firewood.
When she asked Xi Linxuan, he said it was under a straw mat near the sheep pen. As she was about to go to the door, he added, “Or I’ll go get it.”
“It’s just gathering firewood,” Wei Lindxia said confidently. She found it, lifted it, and was stunned. The lumps were flat, dark, hard when poked, and didn’t look like firewood at all. She picked up a few and brought them back to the tent, grabbing some dry grass along the way. These items didn’t seem easy to light. When she returned, Xi Linxuan was slightly surprised but turned back to prepare the goose. Only after Wei Lindxia gathered materials and managed to cook breakfast did he stop.
The taste was clearly not as good as Xi Linxuan’s cooking. After eating, he asked, “Do you know what you just burned?”
Wei Lindxia shook her head.
“Dried cow dung,” he said.
She had to admit her stomach churned momentarily at the thought.
After some reflection, Wei Lindxia felt she had to face reality. People on the grasslands had been using it for years, and grassland girls still looked lovely. What was the big deal? She squatted next to Xi Linxuan to help pluck the fine feathers.
“That…” she started.
“Hmm?” Xi Linxuan looked up, a smile on his face, “Actually, it took me quite a while to get used to it too. It’s nothing.”
“No, we don’t have cows at home.”
Where would we collect cow dung?” Wei Lindxia asked.
Xi Linxuan laughed, inserting a beautiful goose feather in her hair: “You don’t need to worry about that. I’ll take care of it.”
“Okay,” Wei Lindxia nodded.
That night, the group lit a large bonfire, roasting tender lamb and the goose Xi Linxuan had caught. Most didn’t speak the central plains language, so Xi Linxuan translated. As the men drank from large cups, Wei Lindxia, concerned for Xi Linxuan’s health, tugged his sleeve, making the men laugh. Xi Linxuan assured her, “Just a toast, I won’t drink too much.”
The mood was festive, with laughter from men and women. A group of young girls whispered nearby, leaving Wei Lindxia uncertain if they were laughing at her concern for Xi Linxuan.
The middle-aged woman who had praised Wei Lindxia approached, bringing mare’s milk wine: “Qiu Madam, you’re lucky. Qiu Sir is educated and has a good temper, much better than our rough men.”
“Oh, you’re too kind. Compared to them, my Qiu Shui is quite delicate,” Wei Lindxia replied, feeling secretly pleased.
Men’s praise of each other’s wives holds less satisfaction than the envy that comes from other women, reaffirming their husbands’ worth.
Because she hadn’t been this happy in a long time, Wei Lindxia drank too much. The grassland liquor was strong, and by the end of the feast, she felt dizzy and weak. Xi Linxuan carried her back.
(end)
