Chapter Sixteen: Green Waves of the Grassland

After evading the pursuers, we found Lysandra and together went to buy some clothing to change our dress, and from a horse trader, we purchased three horses. Pretending to be calm, we walked out of Liangzhou City and began to gallop away on horseback.

We rode for countless hours, until the sky turned black, and the waning moon rose, finally reaching the vast Qilian Mountain grassland. The boundless green land shimmered with silver light under the night sky, surging and swelling like an ocean, unveiling its expansive embrace. I loosened my tense nerves, took a deep breath of the refreshing air, and a long-absent softness appeared in my eyes.

Li Hao stood atop the grassland, looking into the distance where the mountains seemed to don silver armor under the moonlight. The wind, carrying the scent of wildflowers and the rawness of nature, gently caressed his weather-beaten, rough face. Our mood became tranquil with the vastness of nature, as all fears and hesitations seemed to dissipate with the waves of the grass.

On this boundless grassland, time appeared to stand still. All of the past, on this ancient and mysterious land, seemed so insignificant. I too forgot the upcoming uncertainties, finding a rare peace and sense of self on the grassland. Li Hao, within this sea of grass, reignited the heroic passion that had slumbered in his heart. We took firm steps on the grassland, our hearts filled with a longing for freedom and the future.

The bright moon bathed the grassland as if it were a song. The long shadows of us three escapees on the grassland brought us closer to each other. Exhausted, we all pitched in to rest until dawn before continuing our journey; Li Hao gathered firewood, while Lysandra and I set up a simple resting place. In front of the warm firelight, we took turns keeping watch and enjoyed a good night's sleep.

The grassland's morning was bathed in golden sunlight, with dew-covered grass tips swaying in the wind, casting glimmering points of light. Eagles circled in the sky, bringing a trace of vitality to this quiet world. After a simple replenishment of dry food, we resumed our journey, appreciating the beauty of the grassland along the way

Having endured many hardships, we, three weary travelers, finally encountered the honest grassland nomads in a remote place. They were very hospitable, inviting us three to visit and stay with them for a while.

In this nomadic family, the three of us got to deeply experience the unique charm of grassland culture for the first time. Upon arriving in this unfamiliar setting, we were especially curious about the local customs and way of life. The nomads lead a simple and authentic life, with decorations in their homes showcasing grassland features—felt products, colorfully painted wooden utensils, and horsewhips and bows hanging in the corners.

The next day, as the nomads led their flocks out in the morning light, driven by curiosity, Lysandra, Li Hao, and I also began to try our hand at herding. At first, all three of us felt clumsy at riding horses and managing the sheep, especially in the wide-open grasslands without walls – only uninhibited, boundless space. Gradually, we learned to listen to the sounds of the flock, breathing and living in unison with the sheep. Following the herd, Li Hao's figure became especially prominent against the skyline of the grassland, while Lysandra and I took gentle care of the lambs, learning the tenderness of a grassland mother.

Our days of closeness with the nomads and their herds not only eased the anxiety in our hearts but also subtly changed our outlook on life. From the grandeur of mansion life to the peaceful tranquility of the grassland pastures, life's twists and turns filled me with endless emotions.

Hidden in the nomadic homes of the vast grassland, we thought we might have a chance to catch our breath, but the dark clouds on the horizon signaled a brewing storm, quietly approaching. By the nomadic fire, echoes of distant horse hooves grew clearer, weaving with the wind through every corner of the grassland.

One night, the leader of the nomads came to our tent in a state of panic, speaking a mix of anxious Tibetan and Chinese. He informed us that a large search party from the Tang court had reached the grasslands, inquiring whether anyone had seen a man and a woman passing through. The retainers of the Wu family, too, were sparing no effort and had even produced my likeness, swearing to capture us both and bring us to justice. The once-peaceful grassland life was thus overshadowed by this troubling news once again.

Determination flashed across my face, while Li Hao gripped his long sword, a fiery light emitted from his eyes. Amidst this glaring crisis, we had to act swiftly. Although we trusted the nomads who had sheltered us, we still feared that we would soon be exposed amidst the many onlookers. The night seemed to grow darker and the stars dimmer. While the nomads packed our belongings, they arranged for a guide, well-versed in the terrain of the grassland, to lead us away that night.

Before dawn, under the hazy moonlight, Li Hao, Lysandra, and I bid farewell to this brief place of refuge. The nomads bowed their goodbyes, their eyes filled with reluctance and concern. The urgent sound of the wind grew louder behind us, as if urging us to leave quickly and setting the rhythm for our somber escape.

With the guide, we traversed the grassland, continually changing our route to confuse the pursuers. Under the moonlight, the grassland hosted a race only between us and the pursuers. We crossed streams and brushed through the grass, occasionally pausing behind rocks to listen intently for any sign of the bounty hunters.

Just before dawn, the officers and the Wu family retainers found us and launched a sudden attack. They did not seek to kill—likely because Emperor Li Shimin had ordered us taken alive to face the charges—but still used their weapons. The sound of long bows and eagle whistles shattered the quiet grassland night. Li Hao bravely fought back, though we were utterly outnumbered. As our swords clashed, Li Hao silently prayed for my safety. In critical moments, thankfully, the nomads came to our aid. Utilizing their knowledge of the terrain and their nomadic combat experience, they helped us temporarily break free from the encirclement of our pursuers.

Finally, with the first light of dawn, the three of us temporarily escaped danger. Although unknown threats still lurked around, at least at that moment, life had a chance to breathe. The grassland, which had offered us moments of peace, now became a testament to our struggle and flight. Unsure of the length of the road ahead, Li Hao and I understood in our hearts that as long as life persists, so does hope.

Far from the tumult, Li Hao and I found brief tranquility on the boundless grassland. However, the calm was short-lived, as the impending crisis drew near once more. The help of the nomads became our steady rudder through the looming storm.

As our interactions with the nomads became more frequent and the simple tent formed a temporary shelter, we shared roasted meat by the communal fire, exchanging stories—a gesture that dissolved the barriers of language in the warmth of the firelight and the urgency of the beating drums. Li Hao and I expressed our gratitude to them using gestures and simple phrases in Tibetan. The approachable nomads, in their unique way, had pointed us in the right direction for our escape, planting the seeds of mutual trust.

Yet, cultural clashes were inevitable even on the compassionate grassland. Our customs from the Central Plains inadvertently stirred up controversies. When I followed what I knew of court ceremonies during a ritual to the heavens, the nomads interpreted it as contempt for their beliefs. This difference in customs led to a series of misunderstandings, and the divide behind laughter emerged.

Li Hao's identity as a warrior was also a catalyst for conflict. His aid with a sword was seen as a provocation by the nomads. During one herding, he accidentally angered the lead sheep of the flock, which led to suspicion and accusations from the nomads. For a time, the same nomads who had helped us wore a guarded look, and the silent understanding between us seemed to loosen slightly.

At a critical juncture, simple communication dissipated the doubts between us. At a nightly bonfire gathering, the three of us—through sharing food and helping to set up tents—demonstrated our respect for the grassland culture. The tolerance and ingenuity of the nomads were revealed in the silent assistance. On the evening grassland, the tent's shadow stretched long under the moonlight, the sound of the wind responding to the reconciliation and harmony among the tribes.

Although cultural differences brought temporary obstacles, our united resolve to counter external threats brought the hearts of the nomads and escapees closer together. After numerous attempts at understanding and adapting, we gradually became members of the tribe. We learned how to dance with this land and its people, finding a delicate balance on the grassland.

We treated others with openness, and in return, the nomads reciprocated with kindness, as time quietly passed on the grassland. And as the three of us embarked on a new journey with the sunrise over the grassland, we left behind not only a look of gratitude but also a mark of friendship etched in the hearts of the nomads. 

Once more, on this ever-vibrant land of the grasslands, we faced the stern pursuit of the Tang dynasty officers and the Wu family retainers. The environment of the grassland was both our cloak and the source of our resolve in crisis. The wisdom of the nomads, as the soul of the grassland, harbored a deep understanding of the land and contributed a crucial strategy for our escape.

With dawn's mist rising, the grassland was enshrouded in a haze, leaving only a blurred line between heaven and earth. We followed the nomads' guidance, using the natural camouflage to silently maneuver through the undulating grass. Dew dampened our knees, with every step bringing us closer to success.

The nomads told us of natural trenches, long used by shepherds as shelters from wild storms. Using these hidden terrains allowed us to evade the sharp eyes of the officers and the noses of their hunting dogs. When the pursuers were almost upon us, we quickly hid in the trenches, waiting until the dangerous footsteps gradually faded away.

Some of the nomads devised a clever strategy — covering us with a flock of sheep. On the grassland, shepherds and their flocks are a regular sight. Under the nomads' leadership, a flock was sent circling around, confusing the pursuers. We disguised ourselves among the nomads, handling the shepherd's crook, blending seamlessly with the sheep. From afar, apart from the undulating white waves of the flock, no one could recognize the shadows of us three fugitives.

In this way, the silent cooperation of the nomads successfully redirected the pursuers. Hidden and sheltered by the nomads' intricate planning, we were like a gust of wind on the grassland, elusive and traceless.

With the cloud-covered moonlit grassland and these clever and brave nomads, the three of us managed to dodge disaster. Not every clever idea could bring eternal resolution, but it at least bought us precious time. Hiding deep in the grassland, beneath the magnificent horizon, our hearts had a momentary return to a calm rhythm, while the nomads continued to speak of the land's wisdom and courage in the evening breeze.

In the distance, the only things left on the grassland skyline were the endless sunrise and tranquility. The dewdrops on the tips of the grass lingered as if the stories were still clinging to everyone's hearts. With the help of the nomads, we finally drew a period on the chase of cat and mouse with the pursuers. We found a secluded haven in a corner of the grassland, the threat of the court and the pursuit of the family left behind. The first rays of the morning light gently covered our temporary sanctuary.

Finding temporary peace, the three of us washed away the superficialities and reclaimed the meaning of life. The beauty of the grassland and the simplicity of the nomads made us have a profound affection for this land. Yet deep inside, we knew that such days could not last. Life is not about escaping but facing challenges head-on. On this piece of grassland, every patch of land we brushed past, every footprint we left, made our hearts tougher. For the future, more planning and more courage are needed.

After several discussions and plans, we decided that once the shelter offered by the grassland ended, we would return to the broader world to find a new sanctuary. We were heading to a place where we could start anew.

On the morning of departure, we bid farewell to the nomads who had provided warm protection, filled with gratitude. The goodbye was not just to a region but also to a profound experience and precious friendship. Li Hao looked west, towards the direction of a new life; I sealed the memories of this escape, knowing that history's long river would leave us with many more chapters.

On the grassland, it seemed everything returned to peace. Yet by the nomads' campfire, there was a new, wondrous legend added. Under the purple veil of night, they recounted the story of these three fugitives: how they cleverly dodged grave dangers and narrated farewells and reunions under the starry sky.