“Though the heavens are merciless, and the wind and sand blind, one must still value life despite any attachment. Why linger here so long, my lord?” she asked.
The man, dressed in fine black robes, did not turn to look at her again. He only replied absently, “Fei Ta still breathes.”
Upon hearing this, Huang Bei Shuang understood his resolve, and her heart was moved. Without hesitating for long, she called to Duo Zai and said, “Nanny, tell Guo’er and Yan’er to bring ten bags of water to see if they can save the horse.”
Dor Zai nodded and hobbled around to the back of the caravan. After quite some time, she returned alone, carrying the ten bags of water. They were clearly heavy, and her steps were unsteady as she walked. Setting the water beside the white horse, she respectfully retreated.
At this, Fei Ta’s master seemed somewhat surprised and asked directly, “My lady, do you realize that in the desert, ten bags of water are more precious than a thousand bags of gold?”
Huang Bei Shuang smiled faintly, letting the string of pearls fall to half-cover her face. “I have dozens of horses, none of which I’ve ever named—they simply obey my commands. You, on the other hand, have only one horse and yet are willing to stay by its side until the very end. For that alone, I’m willing to give you ten bags of water—five to save Fei Ta, and five as a gift to you. I wish you a safe journey. We must continue on our way, so this is farewell!”
Huang Bei Shuang didn’t want to linger any longer. After all, the sky was growing darker, and the desert terrain would change at night, making it dangerous. They had to complete their planned journey before sunset. Besides, she had already done all she could, and felt no regrets. So, she gave the order for the group to continue moving. Just as Duo Zai was about to lower the curtain again, the horse’s owner suddenly called out to her, “I am Qing Yun. I will repay the lady’s kindness.” His voice, though cold, carried his name.
Sitting in the carriage, Huang Bei Shuang pondered Qing Yun’s words and couldn’t help but smile. Repay? When and how? It seemed unlikely they would ever meet again. As long as the horse survived, that would be the best outcome. Otherwise, it would be a shame to have wasted ten bags of water—something that could save lives.
Qing Yun—such a deep and reserved appearance, yet his name carried both elegance and a touch of authority. Who could he be, this lone wanderer in the boundless desert sea?
Huang Bei Shuang smiled and shook her head, pushing this brief encounter to the back of her mind. Thinking about how, in seven days, they would reach Yunpei, a sense of bitterness welled up in her chest. Yunpei, the place where her soul might fade away like incense. Although she was the Ernaqi tribe’s peace offering, sent to Yunpei as a symbol of loyalty, they hadn’t sent a single soldier to escort her. Huang Bei Shuang and her group had to cross the desert on their own. Along the way, they had to be wary of bandits and human traffickers—the former killed and looted, while the latter kidnapped people for sale. This was the harsh reality for the people of their impoverished tribes, struggling to survive in the desert world.
As she gazed outside, the sky growing darker, the sunset casting a red glow, the beauty of the scene seemed too quiet. Leaning against the window frame, Huang Bei Shuang suddenly remembered her mother’s words when she had bid her farewell.
“My daughter, when you marry into Yunpei, you will not be a wife, nor a subject. You will be a piece of art in their war treasury. You are the symbol of our peace, the note of harmony that represents our hopes. My daughter, even if you do not find happiness, do not forget the yellow sands of Ernaqi, your homeland!”
That day, her mother had wept bitterly, full of sorrow as she saw her off. Even after the carriage had left, her mother stood for a long time, calling out after her, “My daughter!”
In truth, the Ernaqi tribe had existed for over a hundred years, living by herding livestock and excelling in music and dance. The tribe had only about 7,700 people and had long relied on peace marriages to secure protection from ruling powers. But who wouldn’t feel sorrow and pity? In past marriages of peace, over two hundred Ernaqi girls had died in foreign lands, used and discarded, with word often coming back that not even their bones remained. That grief had turned into prayers, still echoing in the barren desert.
Nashou—what does it mean to be a Nashou? In the Ernaqi tribe, the highest rank is Ershou, the leader of the tribe. The second highest is Nashou, who possesses both the lineage of the chief and exceptional beauty, symbolizing loyalty in peace marriages with the ruling nobility.
Of course, not every girl sent for a peace marriage is a Nashou, nor are they always sent to Yunpei. But the more politically symbolic the marriage, the greater the danger on the journey.
Who might she encounter? That was impossible to know. In this desert, the sands buried desires and evil, madness and plunder, greed and despair…
“Duo Zai, are you hungry? We’ve been walking for so long. Come up and sit with me for a while!”
Huang Bei Shuang felt deep compassion for this elderly woman, who, despite her age, had endured the scorching sun and biting sandstorms, walking alongside this young convoy. They had 124 guards, 24 maidservants, and with the Nashou and her bridal attendants, the group totaled 150 people. Once they left their homeland, it was unlikely they would return. For the Ernaqi, this was considered a grand marriage procession. Yet, of them all, only Duo Zai was advanced in years.
“Nanny is not hungry. Is the Nashou hungry?” Duo Zai asked, peeking into the carriage.
“Duo Zai, come up here!” Huang Bei Shuang patted her frail shoulder.
“Nanny cannot come up,” Duo Zai shook her head.
Huang Bei Shuang smiled, “If Duo Zai won’t come up, then sing for me! Sing the prayer of the women, so I may never forget the desolation of this desert in my life!”
Duo Zai fell silent, for only this elderly nanny truly understood Huang Bei Shuang’s sorrow. An eighteen-year-old girl, forced to cross the desert and marry into a foreign land, with a future filled with uncertainty—dangerous and treacherous. The moment the formal proposal arrived from Yunpei, the marriage became inevitable. Eighteen-year-old Huang Bei Shuang had hidden her fear, never showing even a trace of anxiety or reluctance. She always rode off alone, only returning after her emotions had settled. When she came back, there was always a faint smile on her face, and no one could tell if she had hesitated at all. Duo Zai had children of her own, but she knew that no one’s child was as strong, kind, clever, or beautiful as Huang Bei Shuang.
Thinking of this, Duo Zai finally relented. With some effort, she clambered up to the carriage. But her age made it difficult, and she struggled. Huang Bei Shuang, understanding, reached out and pulled her up. Once she was seated, Huang Bei Shuang gently brushed the dust from her hair, then took her hand and pressed it to her heart, saying softly, “Duo Zai, do you know? In this world, Nashou loves you the most, more than my father and mother, more than my brothers and sisters.”
Duo Zai’s chest tightened, tears welling up only to be held back. She squeezed Huang Bei Shuang’s hand firmly and whispered, “Nashou, Nanny believes in you, and you must believe in Nanny. Everything has an end—sorrow has its end, happiness too; poverty has its end, and so does wealth. When the end comes, it will either be the bitterness ending in sweetness, or a life beyond caring. But Nanny knows, for you, the bitterness will surely end in sweetness!”
Huang Bei Shuang looked at Duo Zai and felt deeply touched. “Duo Zai, I know you possess endless wisdom. Without you by my side, I would have lost my courage long ago.”
As she spoke, she gently brushed away the messy strands of hair from Duo Zai's forehead and asked, “Tell me, Duo Zai, why did you come to be my wedding nanny?”
Upon hearing this, Duo Zai felt a mix of emotions stir within her heart, but she lowered her gaze and replied, “Nanny is old, useless now. At home, I’m just a burden. My son and daughter have their own families. In this chaotic world, it’s hard enough for them to survive, let alone take care of an old woman like me. It’s enough—I managed to raise them to adulthood, what more can I ask for? But the one I can’t let go of is you, the Nashou who nursed at my breast when you were little. Nanny has lived long enough and is not afraid of death, but as long as I have breath, I will stay with you to the end! Just like that white horse, Fei Ta—would the Nashou wish for anything different?”
As Duo Zai spoke, Huang Bei Shuang was already in tears, unable to hold back the years of suppressed sorrow and grievance. It was as if, in this world, Duo Zai was the only family she had left. “Nanny, don’t worry. The Nashou will wait—wait until the hardship turns to sweetness.”
Duo Zai wiped away Huang Bei Shuang’s tears, her heart filled with endless affection.
“Nanny has one more truth to tell you. When you hear it, act as though you haven’t heard it. When you understand it, act as though you don’t. Do you understand?”
Huang Bei Shuang nodded, leaning into Duo Zai’s embrace, drawing comfort from the motherly warmth she had always known.
“Everything has an end—sorrow has an end, and happiness does too. Poverty has its end, and so does wealth. Only heaven and earth do not end, nor does time; desire does not end, and neither does wisdom... Nashou, do you hear me?”
Huang Bei Shuang was already half asleep, as though she had heard a lullaby. A smile lingered on her lips as she murmured back, “Mmm... let's pretend I didn’t understand, Duo Zai.”
Hearing her reply, Duo Zai couldn’t help but smile as she gazed at the beautiful young girl in her arms, her innocence and charm shining through. For her to remain so calm... Duo Zai thought, clever child, do you realize? Your destiny is already set, and you will walk a path that is difficult and extraordinary. Though it will twist and turn, it will still be a brilliant life.
The desert at night was terrifying. The endless darkness made it impossible to focus one’s sight, and many lone travelers had gone mad and perished because of it. By the time the night had fully fallen, the long strings of camel bells had long since rung themselves into exhaustion. Huang Bei Shuang looked at the sky and knew they could not travel any further. She ordered the convoy to stop, instructing the guards to build a fire. The 150 people gathered behind a large hill covered in thorny trees to rest.
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