Chen Rulan had procured a horse of his own. Just a loan, for use in the city and the surrounding areas. A Tibetan colt, grey. The animal’s youthful energy was a good match for Pengfei’s recently reinvigorated mare. The mounts nipped at each other playfully, to the consternation of their riders.

  It only took an hour to reach the outskirts of Hotan where the Tibetan’s wintered. Two young boys rode out to greet them as the Kunlun elder and disciple crossed onto their land. Master Rulan displayed proficiency in yet another language and the boys waved for them to follow.

  They were taken to a cluster of large tents, where livestock of all types milled about. A flap opened as they approached and Pema stepped into the midmorning sun.

  --Damn, she is beautiful!--

  Pengfei’s… appreciation… for the girl had only deepened since the last time he had seen her. He never even considered whether it was the prolonged isolation from the opposite gender, a natural phase for a boy his age, or a more pure and genuine affection. He just reveled in it.

  “What are you doing here!?” Pema yelled out happily as she recognized the guests.

  Pengfei waved back but waited until they were closer to respond.

  “Hello Pema. It’s good to see you.” He dismounted and greeted her with awkward politeness, restraining himself from anything less formal in front of the elder and Pema’s kinsman. “We’ve come to Hotan on business, and I thought your family might be able to help. Hoping to buy some horses.”

  “We can certainly help with that. My father knows every seller in the region.”

  Pema called behind her to the tent and a middle-aged man emerged. Pengfei recognized his face from when the Tibetan clan had passed through Kunlun’s valley three months ago. Long overdue introductions were made.

  “This is my father, Dorje.”

  Chen Rulan was able to greet the man in his own language while Pengfei bowed silently.

  “Do you know what you’re looking for?” Pema asked.

  “Kazakhs. Thirty-head for now. Ready to ride. And another four hundred in three years.”

  The girl gaped at Pengfei’s words and her father exclaimed immediately upon hearing the translation. He spoke hurriedly, addressing the elder, while Pema translated for the disciple’s benefit.

  “My father wishes to know if you are aware of the cost… this is not an easy thing. The horses from the west are –“

  “The funds are not a problem.” Chen Rulan reassured the parent and child.

  More words flowed between the Tibetans. Then Dorje retrieved a saddle from his tent and made ready to ride one of the nearby mounts.

  “We will take you to see a man. If you wish my father to negotiate on your behalf, he asks for a commission on whatever money you save below market price.”

  Pengfei thought it was fair and was pleased to see Chen Rulan nod his assent as well.

  Dorje led them back to the road and then to the west. The men rode side-by-side and spoke, allowing Pema and Pengfei to ride behind and carry on their own conversation.

  “What is going on with her? She’s at least a hand taller than last time I saw her.” Pema nodded at Horse.

  He gave a look to make sure Elder Rulan was sufficiently distracted, but in the end he still didn’t want to risk it.

  Pengfei whispered to Pema, “I’ll tell you later.”

  “You look bigger too. More muscular at least. Are we allowed to talk about that?”

  “Haha… sure. But it’s less interesting. Just exercise and a lot of goat meat.”

  “It suits you. You almost look like a man. How old are you now?”

  He winced at the word ‘almost’ but accepted the compliment. “I guess I’m fifteen now. What month is it?”

  Pema shrugged.

  This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  They talked of inconsequential things and Pengfei found himself smiling the entire time. It was a welcome relief from the strange malaise he had been in since his encounter in the canyon.

  They came over a hill and found a herd of horses grazing around another river. Dorje was already riding up to one of the keepers.

  “Anything else new with you?” Pengfei asked as an awkward silence fell between the pair.

  “My father is trying to marry me off again. It’s becoming quite bothersome.” Pema clicked to her horse and trotted to join Dorje and Chen Rulan with the horse merchants. She looked back at Pengfei and called out happily, “Come on!”

  --Married?! Shit! I guess she is that age, but… shit.--

  Pengfei tried his best to hide the shock Pema’s words had given him. He smiled through the pain and trotted after her.

  ******************************************************************************

  They spent two days on negotiations and still didn’t conclude matters definitively. But the most immediate concerns were taken care of. Pengfei rode through the herd with Pema, Dorje, and the Kazakh merchant. Pengfei and the Tibetans pointed out thirty mares and geldings to take back to the sect in the late spring. As the final choices were made, the merchant set his hired hands to branding the chosen horses, marking them so they’d be recognized as the property of Kunlun, then came back to the buyers. Chen Rulan rode up to join the discussion as well.

  “For the larger purchase, we want eighty geldings, eighty mares. For the rest, I want fillies and colts. Definitely nothing more than six years old. Ratio of 7:2, female to male, at least.”

  Pema translated Pengfei’s words to her father, who nodded approvingly, then translated them again into Kazakh for the merchant.

  Eventually, an agreement came back down the chain. Pema delivered the terms.

  “He can guarantee two hundred at least, but he will have to meet his cousin in the summer to discuss the rest. He will know for sure by next winter. And you’ll have to take delivery within a week of their arrival. They don’t have enough land here for that many.”

  Pengfei was satisfied but looked to Chen Rulan for final confirmation. The elder nodded his assent and shook hands with the Kazakh merchant. When the deal was concluded, the Taoist master congratulated Pengfei.

  “You did well, I think the Patriarch will be happy. We should celebrate tonight.”

  “Thank you, Elder. But Pema offered to show me the desert…Would it be alright if I went with her?”

  Chen Rulan gave a glance to Dorje, who was still talking animatedly with the merchant, but then nodded to Pengfei.

  “Fine, as long as you can find your way back to the inn. Don’t be too late, we need to leave early in the morning. Back to Kunlun.”

  “Yes sir.”

  Pema shouted something to her father, who waved her off distractedly, then the two teenagers galloped to the north. They followed the river through the fields until the soft earth turned to rock beneath the horse’s hooves.

  They dismounted and let their animals drink.

  “Does the river flow all the way through to the north side of the desert?” Pengfei asked.

  “I don’t know.” Pema spoke candidly and smiled at him. “Maybe I’ll follow it someday and find out.”

  Pengfei reached into one of his saddle bags and brought out a jar of the alcohol he had purchased. He took a drink and handed it to Pema.

  “Wasn’t I supposed to bring you alcohol?” When the Tibetan nomads had passed through the valley on the way to Hotan, Pengfei had asked her to bring back as much wine as she could manage. He chuckled now at the memory.

  “The request still stands. By the time your family comes back through the valley, me and my friends will have drunk everything I bought.”

  She took a long swig and wiped her lips. “Alright. So, are you going to tell me what happened with your horse now?”

  “I named her Horse by the way – “

  “Awful.”

  “ – and it’s a long story. Let’s get moving first.”

  They got back into their saddles and headed east, along the northern edge of Hotan. The rocky earth gave way to hard packed sand as they moved farther from the river, and then to dunes. The true Taklamakan experience.

  The horses plodded along the crests of the dunes and the winds whipped the grains of sand around their hooves in mesmerizing chaotic displays.

  Pengfei told Pema about his trip through the valley, the canyon. Finding the dead body and the subsequent confrontation with Guoyu. And of course, the Thousand Year Ginseng.

  She grimaced and gasped at the appropriate moments, laughed when he explained how Horse had stolen the elixir for herself, and stared in wonderment at the description of the Mountain King.

  They paused at the top of a dune and looked out over a sea of sand, passing the jar of wine back and forth between each other.

  “Ma Feng can rest easy now. I’ll rest easier too, knowing those bastards have left my mountains.” Pema smiled at him. “How do you feel about it all?”

  --Feel… how do I feel? Hell if I know.--

  For Pema, he made an effort to voice his ambivalence. “I don’t think I feel the way I’m supposed to feel. I don’t feel happy that I got revenge. I don’t feel angry that I was attacked, or upset that I killed someone. Just confused.”

  The Tibetan girl shrugged. “I think there are some things in life that you can’t figure out. You just have to get used to them. Let’s head back.”

  Pema leaned in and kissed Pengfei’s cheek. Then she turned her horse back toward the town and lead the way down the sandy dune.

  ******************************************************************************

  For the first time since the canyon, Pengfei’s dreams were free of Guoyu’s face. Instead, they were filled with sand and wine, and over too soon. Chen Rulan jostled him awake before the sun rose and the pair dressed for the day’s ride.

  The young boy who worked as groom at the inn was nowhere to be seen, so Pengfei saddled Horse himself as the elder checked some of the goods in the back of the yak cart. The disciple watched closely, ready to deny any knowledge of the case of alcohol if it should be discovered, but it never came to that.

  However, Pengfei did catch sight of something interesting. In his last checks, Elder Rulan opened a box containing a pair of weapons. Two short sabers. Somewhere between butcher’s knives and swords, really. Single edged, fat blades, about the length of a forearm. One curved quillion ran along the spine of each blade, another would guard the front of the hands.

  “Where did those come from?” Pengfei inquired.

  “I requested them while we were visiting the blacksmith. A little side project of mine.”

  The elder shut the box and took his place at the reins of the cart, ready to begin the journey back to the sect.

  The streets were already busy by the time they left the stables and Pengfei had to ride behind the cart again. Most of the traffic was against them as merchants and customers made their way towards the center of town.

  On the outskirts, they met a group of young men in red robes. About Pengfei’s age, with hair even shorter, more recently shaved. They stopped in the road to converse with Elder Rulan. The words were obscured as other pedestrians began to shout at the obstruction on the thoroughfare, but Pengfei recognized the language to be Tibetan.

  Elder Rulan looked back to Pengfei, then turned back to the group in red, waving his hands in some sort of contradiction. The group bowed to the elder and continued on their way, eyeing Pengfei menacingly as they passed.

  It was half an hour before the disciple could ride next to the cart instead of behind it.

  “Who were those guys?” he asked. “They looked like monks.”

  “Yes, lamas from a Tibetan monastery. They’ll travel into Mongol territory after the winter.”

  “What did they want?”

  “To fight you.”

  Pengfei was taken aback. He looked over his shoulder but there was no sign of the red-robed young men. “Why would they want to fight me?”

  “I don’t know. But I told them we were in a hurry today.”

  “Thanks for that.”

  “And I told them you would be back in a few months for the first thirty horses. That they could fight you then.”

  “… Thanks for that.”