Lake Kobdo was far larger than Gu Chengyan had imagined.
After riding across the Naqu Mountains, a boundless expanse of azure water greeted his eyes, set against the backdrop of a gentle breeze and lush grass. Along the lake’s edge, vibrant green grass was densely woven like a carpet of varying shades, dotted with the brilliant patterns of wildflowers in full bloom. Aside from the pale blue pasqueflowers that Gu Chengyan recognized, most were unique to the prairie purple-sepaled with yellow stamens, blooming in a riot of colors.
In the distance, the rolling snow-capped mountains were hidden beneath layered clouds where the water met the sky. Closer to the foot of the mountains lay thousands of felt tents, adorned with colorful flags and prayer banners. Below the fluttering flags were countless merchant wagons, as well as herds of cattle, sheep, and horses. Merchants and girls, carrying baskets and panniers at their waists or on their backs, wove through the crowd, while many men led their own stallions, singing loudly to sell them.
Even from across half a mountain, the boisterous, bustling sound of humanity drifted clearly to their ears—
Gu Chengyan loved this urban vitality, this worldly “human fireworks.” Compared to the magnificently decorated yet cold Nebula Pavilion, he actually preferred the bustling, lively alleys.
Sahechena didn’t understand. After frowning and looking around, he still couldn’t figure out what Gu Chengyan had seen that made him smile so beautifully. He thought for a moment, then looked down.
He plucked the most beautiful sprig of fireweed from the hilltop where they stood and handed it to Gu Chengyan.
Fireweed was the Ren’erma—the most beautiful flower of the prairie. Some northern tribes even revered it as a sacred flower, reserved exclusively for sacrifices. Sahechena didn’t care about “sacred flowers”; he simply felt that everything good in this world should be piled up in front of his wife. Wuwu was the best wife, and he deserved all of it.
Gu Chengyan found it amusing. He took the flower, jumped down from his white horse, and handed the reins in his hand back to Sahechena. “You lead these.”
Sahechena nodded. While taking the reins, he used his other hand to hold onto Gu Chengyan. He could lead them, but he had to hold onto Wuwu as well.
Gu Chengyan glanced down at their intertwined hands and felt that the little cub was just like his younger martial brothers back on Qing-shuang Mountain—back when his father was still alive, every Lunar New Year, he would be like a “king of children,” leading a string of little ones down the mountain to buy festive goods. They would help the elderly in the village clean their houses, write couplets, post door gods, and take the children to see lanterns and buy snacks. The little ones loved the fun and excitement but were afraid of getting lost, so most would grab tightly onto his sleeves, while the two closest to him would grasp his hands, holding on death-grip tight throughout the journey without ever letting go.
Gu Chengyan looked at Sahechena, smiled, and let him lead him side-by-side down the mountain toward the great market.
It was clear that the great market had been open for several days. Aside from knives, whetstones, and leather tubes laid directly on the grass, there were many temporary stables, sheep pens, and tents available for rent.
Gu Chengyan had thought about the five horses Uluji had gifted them, but decided not to keep them. Although Rongdi horses were pasture-raised and didn’t require meticulous feeding, he had limited energy and couldn’t manage that many. Summer and spring were one thing, but come autumn and winter, he didn’t want to spend his days cutting grass and hovering over horses. Besides, he already had his chestnut horse and the white horse; they could pull a cart and run, and he truly didn’t have that much need for more horses.
Those five horses had beautiful coats and well-proportioned builds; they were excellent commodities. Bringing them to the great market would allow him to trade for more useful things.
Therefore, as soon as they entered the market, they attracted many eyes—not just looking at the five fine horses, but also at the two of them: Gu Chengyan was wearing a long robe of indigo with gold silk embroidery at the collar, lined with a white undergarment featuring subtle, hidden bamboo patterns. He was too lazy to wear a headpiece, opting to braid his hair at the side in the prairie fashion and securing it with a forehead band, letting the rest of his hair flow freely.
As for Sahechena, with his tall stature, fine build, dark curly hair, and those beautiful blue eyes, it was hard for him not to attract attention. In just this short distance, many girls looked at Sahechena with sparkling eyes, and the bold ones even tossed flowers into his arms.
Sahechena, however, kept a straight face, not even glancing at the bright, beautiful girls. He only held Gu Chengyan’s hand tighter, his palm damp and hot with sweat.
Gu Chengyan shook his head and pulled him along to find a salt merchant first.
Most salt on the prairie was cliff salt—formed within earth cliffs and colored like red soil; sometimes, people from the Central Plains called it “Peach Blossom Salt.” Seeing them approach from afar, the salt merchant enthusiastically opened several pottery jars, showing them the salt blocks inside. The cliff salt was deep red in color, with a texture like alum—the large ones weighed at least ten catties, while the smaller ones were the size of pebbles.
“Are you two buying salt? Mine is all freshly dug from the Fengdi Mountains. The large blocks will last two or three years, and the small ones will surely last half a year!”
The Fengdi Mountains were a famous salt mountain in the northwest prairie. Gu Chi had visited it when he was resisting enemies at the border; Gu Chengyan had known about it since he was a child. The merchant took out a scraper, picked up a small salt block, and put it in his hand. “Want a taste?”
Gu Chengyan’s hands were both occupied. He started to let go of Sahechena, but at his first attempt to pull away, he was glared at by the boy, and his hand was pinched. He sighed and had no choice but to break off the long, tough stem of the fireweed and tuck the sprig behind Sahechena’s temple.
This stunned Sahechena.
Gu Chengyan, however, looked at the youth with the flower in his hair and chuckled softly. He turned to taste the salt and began bargaining with the boss—some salt merchants were careless and didn’t care about quality when collecting salt, leading to varying levels of bitterness and saltiness. Gu Chengyan had been fooled by this as a child: when he went down the mountain to buy salt, he brought back bitter salt meant for sacrifices. Not only was he mocked by his uncles, but he was also punished by having to eat bitter rice for an entire night.
Gu Chengyan stuck out his tongue and insisted on tasting every block. Eventually, he struck a deal with the boss, trading one pure brown riding horse for two large jars of salt.
Aside from salt, there were other daily necessities Gu Chengyan wanted to trade for, but those were small items not worth a whole horse. Thus, after asking the salt merchant to help move the two large pottery jars onto the cart and secure them, he turned to search the market for a place to sell horses. Only by trading the remaining horses for pearls and gold coins would he be able to buy the arrows, bowls, needles, thread, and fabric he wanted.
As he was craning his neck to look around, Sahechena reached out as if performing a magic trick and produced a pale blue pasqueflower from nowhere. Following Gu Chengyan’s lead, he quickly tucked the little blue flower behind his ear and gave him a mischievous smile, revealing two little canine teeth.
Gu Chengyan: “…”
He shook his head. Truly a little rascal.
Afterwards, they traded the remaining four horses for a bag of gold coins, and then, under the strong recommendation of the horse field owner, rented a felt tent. The great market by Lake Kobdo would be held for over ten days; not only would merchants trade during the day, but there would also be campfires at night: young men and women playing instruments and singing, and warriors wrestling and competing in archery.
Having been on the prairie for so long, Gu Chengyan had never seen a real campfire party. He only remembered his mother saying that this was the most important folk gathering after the Midler Festival. The prairie herdsmen were warm and hospitable; as long as you sat by the campfire, there would be enough fine wine and roasted meat to go around.
Gu Chengyan wanted to see it for himself, so he decided to take Sahechena to stay. When he heard they were staying overnight, the little fellow had grumbled at first, but seeing that he only rented one tent, his eyes lit up, looking like a puppy that had spotted a meaty bone.
Gu Chengyan didn’t know what was going on in his little head all day long. He shook his head and packed away everything he had bought. Seeing that it was still early, he took the initiative to hold Sahechena’s hand and pulled him out for a stroll by Lake Kobdo.
When they came down the mountain that morning, Gu Chengyan had seen many antelopes and wild horses grazing and drinking water leisurely by the lake, unafraid of humans. Everything on the prairie was different from the Central Plains; there was an indescribable peace, as if the heavens had a special fondness for the creatures and plants here.
Gu Chengyan held Sahechena’s hand and walked slowly, his eyes curved and his mouth lifted in a smile. He felt as if his previous life had been lived in vain.
Blowing in the gentle breeze from the lake, Gu Chengyan was focused on admiring the scenery. After walking for a distance, Sahechena suddenly stopped him:
“Wuwu.”
“Hm?”
“This is a deep-water lake,” he said solemnly. “No matter how far we walk, we won’t find small fish. If Wuwu wants to eat fish, I’ll catch them for you when we go back.”
Gu Chengyan was stunned.
Sahechena added earnestly, “Catch many, many fish to keep Wuwu full.”
Gu Chengyan couldn’t help but laugh out loud, his body trembling uncontrollably with laughter, until he finally rested his head on Sahechena’s shoulder.
This child.
After laughing for a while, tears of mirth welled up in the corners of his eyes. After wiping away the glistening moisture, Gu Chengyan nodded without much explanation and promised:
“Alright, I’ll wait for you to catch them for me when we go back.”
Sahechena scratched his head, but silently made a mental note: Beautiful wife loves fish; I must remember to catch more in the future.
Gu Chengyan hadn’t really intended to go very far. Wasn’t a walk just aimlessly wandering about? Besides, he had already gained plenty this time: he had seen the windswept lake, the mountains dyed in the red clouds of sunset, the wild horses and herds of deer grazing leisurely, and had gained an extra promise from a “Wolf King.”
Gu Chengyan smiled, wondering if he should go back and buy more onions, ginger, and garlic it seemed that he would have an endless supply of fish in the future.
The two walked back slowly. Gu Chengyan casually tested him on a few of the words he had taught recently; Sahechena’s memory was not bad, and he had mastered them quite well. It was just that occasionally, when he tried to say a long string of words, the sentences would become incoherent as he tried to figure out how to use them like a pathetic little stutterer.
Gu Chengyan saw that although his face was tight, his blinking eyes betrayed a sense of anxiety. Therefore, he ruffled the little wolf cub’s head and praised him generously, “Alright, you learn very quickly and speak very well!”
Sahechena sighed in relief in his heart. After looking at Gu Chengyan, he suddenly brought up the question that had been weighing on his mind for a long time:
“Then… I still want to know the meaning of one word.”
“What word?”
“E… Eche…” Sahechena articulated with great effort. After getting the pronunciation right, his beautiful blue eyes remained pure and crystalline:
“What does ‘Eche’ mean?”