chapter 5

That day, while I was grazing my horse by the lake, the moment I first saw Cheng Jia, my heart raced.

Men from the Western Regions are mostly rugged, which I do not like.

I have met men from the Central Plains as well, but none were like Cheng Jia.

His complexion was fair, his eyes sparkled like stars, and his words and actions could not conceal his nobility. Even when escaping death with his cousin, he remained gentle, like a piece of jade, or the dazzling white snow atop Tianshan.

I thought that after showing him the way, I would have no further connection with him.

But later, he told me that my encounter with him was destined.

At that time, Yuan Zong, his cousin, had not yet breathed his last. Cheng Jia, after much thought, was still unwilling to give up and wanted to go to the southern edge of the desert to find the Dragon Mound.

He gave me all the silver notes and lead coins he had, hoping that his cousin could stay here temporarily.

I did not take those things: “I don’t want them.”

Cheng Jia seemed to think of something, his face reddened, and he said softly, “Miss, I know it is hard to repay your life-saving kindness. These things are hardly worthy, and silver notes from the Central Plains are difficult to spend in the Western Regions, but you can keep them for now. If you ever have a chance to go to Changan…”

“There won’t be a chance, Young Master Cheng. I won’t go to the Central Plains,” I replied seriously. “The Central Plains are too far, and very dangerous.”

Cheng Jia was stunned for a moment, then smiled: “This is the first time I’ve heard someone say the Central Plains are dangerous. Yun Li, believe me, the Central Plains are much safer than here. Changan is bustling and prosperous, with thousands of lanterns at night and never a curfew. Unlike here, where even traveling the Official Road during the day could get you robbed or killed.”

Alas, he would never understand. The danger he spoke of was not the same as the danger I meant.

Of course, the Central Plains are prosperous. Changan has long bluestone roads, teahouses and taverns everywhere, and flying eaves stretching wide.

Everything the Western Regions lack-silk, porcelain, tea, and more-they have in abundance.

Children can attend private schools, young people can take the imperial exams, everyone reads the books of sages and knows propriety, righteousness, integrity, and shame.

All these things, aside from passing merchants, my friend Qi Mo from Yuni City often told me about.

Back when Old Man Huang was still around, Grandpa would sigh to me, “The Central Plains are wonderful, like a dream.”

Long ago, that was a dream that belonged to the two of us.

But the White Dragon of Tianshan, relying on the Dragon Vein to cultivate and take human form, cannot last long after leaving here before reverting to its dragon body.

So, though we yearn for it, we would never truly go to the Central Plains.

After Old Man Huang leaked the matter of the Dragon Meat, there was even less chance of going.

Grandpa said, “Actually, the Central Plains aren’t that great. Old Huang even claims to be a Central Plains Person from Changan. Bah! What does he know of propriety, righteousness, integrity, and shame? Central Plains People don’t keep their word.”

Me: “Right, the Central Plains aren’t good at all. I don’t like Changan.”

Grandpa: “I don’t like it either. I’ve never wanted to visit Changan.”

Me: “Me neither.”

Grandpa: “I’m not interested in their Go or chess. What’s so fun about them?”

Me: “Me too. Lotus Root Powder and Osmanthus Sugar Cake and candied hawthorn-those names sound strange. How good could they taste? I don’t believe they’re delicious.”

Grandpa: “Ah Li, I heard you swallow.”

Me: “I didn’t. I just suddenly remembered Old Man Huang saying there’s an Old Monk on Three Saints Mountain in the Central Plains who’s a master at chess. I wonder if he’s still alive.”

Grandpa: “I have no desire to play chess with the Old Monk!”

Me: “Oh, I know, Grandpa. Just like I have no desire to eat Lotus Root Powder and Osmanthus Sugar Cake.”

Grandpa: “Hmph, not wanting means not wanting. I dislike the Central Plains, and I dislike monks.”

Me: “Grandpa, why are you grabbing that piece of wood?”

Grandpa: “My claws are itchy, is that not allowed?!”

Me: “…”