Desert Rhapsody - Chapter 53

Chapter 53

No matter what, life had to go on. Beneath the pyramid, they were far from any sign of human habitation. For several thousand meters in every direction, the land was little different from barren waste. If Jiang Yuan did not want to die of thirst or be roasted alive under the sun, she could only get up and, together with Abal, stagger onward in search of a way out. Before leaving, they even made the painstaking effort to circle the pyramid once. Jiang Yuan discovered, with eerie disbelief, that she had almost no injuries at all. She was merely filthy. The sand, glued together by sweat, had dried and flaked away, revealing only skin that burned painfully from the sun. Abal was much the same. If Jiang Yuan had not dreamed it all, he had clearly been stabbed once, yet there was not a single wound anywhere on his body.

“Could it have been a dream?” Abal offered.

If their memories had been better, they might have been able to recall it more clearly. Their clothes and the things they carried were all exactly as they had been when the black sand swept them away. Only what had been lost was truly lost. Their weapons and the like were gone. The camels were gone too.

Expressionless, Jiang Yuan said, “Then who carried us to Memphis?”

This was Memphis. There was no doubt about it, because they had indeed found that mark in its old place. What confirmed that time had truly returned to the beginning was the scratch itself. The stone had weathered through the ages, and the mark had grown shallow and worn. The sandstone had dulled; perhaps in a few thousand more years, it too would vanish into time along with the rest of its companions.

Abal said, “How do you know it’s your time, and not mine?”

“Because if this were my time, you would have been surrounded and beaten half to death already.”

He glanced sideways at her. Jiang Yuan’s expression remained calm. After a moment, he laughed, his face turning teasing. “You’re lying.”

“Yes,” Jiang Yuan said. “Because the one who wants to beat you is me.”

But she could not beat him yet. Her strength had to be saved for getting out of Memphis. In the eighth century, Memphis was nothing but a ruin. Perhaps people still lived nearby, but the center of civilization had long since shifted to Alexandria. Time moved forward and never looked back. They took one last look at the pyramid, then left without turning around again.

With no camels or any other means of transport, no clean water, and no food, the grueling journey to find signs of life was something Jiang Yuan truly never wanted to remember. They caught lizards and scorpions in the desert to eat, and dug up grass roots by the roadside to suck out what moisture they could. Abal managed to start a fire, so they even got to eat roasted scorpions-as though that counted as some sort of grand feast. As he crunched through the meat, he taught her which parts tasted best.

“Enough. Shut up.” Jiang Yuan held the nearly impossible-to-swallow shell and tried with all her might to imagine it was a piece of roasted meat. “I don’t want to hear you talk anymore.”

Abal shrugged. “Isn’t it rather delicious? Don’t tell me you’ve never eaten this in Baghdad?”

Jiang Yuan ignored him. The next day, they found two snakes. Better than scorpions.

As though to prove that things really did improve with the passage of time, on the third day they walked into the ruins of Memphis and reached the Nile River. It was not that no one lived here, exactly, but compared to a city, the population was sparse and poor. People speaking languages she could not understand wore ragged clothes and held their children as they watched the two pass by in curiosity. It was like every village Jiang Yuan had ever walked through, except the abundance, clarity, and fragrance that had once belonged to this city could no longer be seen.

She passed through the temple and even went looking for the place where she had once stayed. The house had already collapsed. The platform where she had eaten and written on stone tablets had long since vanished without a trace. Before their eyes, time mercilessly rewrote memory.

“My dear Jia Nan,” Abal called from behind her. “I found camels.”

When she turned around, she saw him riding a camel, with another one led behind him, obviously meant for her. Even in a broken-down village like this, he had still found a way to make himself look presentable. Dressed in a fresh white robe from head to toe, he guided the camel to her side and looked down at her from above. He truly looked vigorous, handsome, and impossibly dashing.

“Where did you get them?” Jiang Yuan asked.

A village like this would absolutely refuse to sell its camels. What unconscionable thing had Abal done this time?

The bandit chief answered succinctly, “Gold coins.”

“…Where did you get gold coins?”

They had walked out of the pyramid utterly penniless, so Jiang Yuan was genuinely shocked. Where had this bastard gotten money from? Under her suspicious glare, the Governor of Bakum, suspected of returning to his old profession, bent down, leaned closer, and opened the small pouch he carried. Jiang Yuan moved in to look and was nearly blinded by the pouch full of gemstones and gold.

The bandit chief had struck it rich, and he was thoroughly pleased with himself. “I buried it before we left.”

No wonder he had slipped away and disappeared the moment they entered Memphis. Jiang Yuan looked at him in silence. Though these gemstones and gold were dusty and dim, they were unmistakably in the style of ancient Egypt. Clearly, during those two days at the temple, he had worked himself to the bone. Aside from sneaking out to spread rumors, he had also conveniently stolen a pile of treasure, found a hidden place to bury it, and waited to dig it up in the future. He really was optimistic enough.

Abal said solemnly, “Clearly, it wasn’t a dream.”

Jiang Yuan said, “That is indeed obvious.”

He laughed, then casually grabbed a handful from the pouch and placed it in her palm. When he lifted his eyes to look at her, his blue eyes curved wickedly behind his veil.

“My dear Jia Nan,” he said, “consider this your payment.”

Even after coming into a sudden fortune, they did not rashly buy passage on a boat heading north. Even after experiencing that dream of ancient Egypt, Abal was clearly even more wary of water than before. They rode their two camels toward Alexandria. Though the road was still long, as long as they had enough equipment, the journey became far more pleasant. Before long, they caught up with a merchant caravan, exchanged enough money, bought scimitars, changed into new robes, and once again listened to minstrels pluck their instruments and sing, drank sweet wine, and ate delicious food. When the courtesans danced, they lingered beside their table, reluctant to leave.

Even when they stayed at inns, they did not share a room. Although they had returned to the bustling prosperity of markets filled with music and dance, both of them still needed more time to recover. Jiang Yuan often slept until noon, while Abal’s habits were even more reversed between day and night than hers. In short, this journey was unexpectedly slow.

That night, Jiang Yuan slept for a very long time. When she finally woke, she could no longer fall asleep. She had not had nightmares, but perhaps because she had been tense for too long, she always woke drenched in cold sweat. She got out of bed, walked onto the balcony, and watched the moonlight bathe the little town as people sang and danced. She stared absently for a long time, until someone called to her from beside her.

Abal was sitting next to her, separated only by the railing. Their rooms were adjacent. After all, they had money now, so they had taken the two best rooms with terraces.
“Awake?” she asked, mostly for form’s sake.

“Just got back to my room,” he answered, also mostly for form’s sake. In the courtyard below, a woman caught sight of him and called out his alias in a flirtatious lilt. Abal propped his cheek in his hand and burst out laughing, then casually grabbed a handful of gold coins from his purse.

The coins rained down. Flames licked upward. The crowd cheered and stamped their feet, singing for him.

“Eagle of the heavens, lion of the earth, wealthy Shatumai, your glorious name shall spread to every corner of the world!”

Once the crowd had finished scrambling for the coins, they sang and danced with even more vigor. So Abal took two swigs of wine and tossed down another shower of gold.

The two of them sat side by side, watching the riotous revelry below.

He lazily turned his head toward her. “Having fun?” As he spoke, he handed over the wineskin. Jiang Yuan took it and drank, suddenly remembering that small town from many years ago, when she had been packed in among the bandits and their singing and dancing. She smiled faintly. “It’s interesting.”

“Then tell me a story in return.” He propped his cheek in his hand, the jeweled ring near his face glittering in the firelight. With the railing between them, they could lean against each other in perfect calm. Even when skin brushed skin, even when strands of hair touched. Neither of them moved, and neither drew any closer.

Jiang Yuan no longer quite remembered what story she told Abal that night. She only remembered the heat of Abal’s lips and tongue, the strength of his touch, the scorching, soul-stealing heat of his palms. His skill was even better than the last time. That night, they indulged themselves so thoroughly that the next day, neither of them wanted to get up to look for food. Wine had spilled over the bedding, grease had smeared the curtains, clothes and ornaments lay torn and shattered in a mess across the floor. When Jiang Yuan checked out, she had no choice but to pay for the entire room’s decorations, nearly spending all the money she had exchanged. When she walked out the door, Abal was waiting with the camels. She glared at him.

“So this is why you insisted on coming to my room?”

“Not exactly, my dear Jia Nan.” He leisurely licked his lips and gave her a wicked smile. “Without a doubt, it was because climbing into a woman’s bed is far more exciting.”

Yet however long a journey was, it would always come to an end. On the night before they entered Alexandria, they tumbled together for the countless time. Perhaps they had gone mad enough along the way, because that night was unexpectedly tender. From kisses to caresses, everything carried a tremor and gentleness they had never known before. Drenched in sweat, they exchanged kisses after the calm returned.

“Come to Baghdad with me?” he asked.

“No,” she answered.

She asked in turn, “Come to the Great Tang with me?”

He laughed and answered as well, “No.”

There were no further questions, as though this had only been a passing whim. He pressed lightly at her waist and moved forward, then hooked an arm around her neck in temptation, drawing her back in once more.

The next day, after entering Alexandria, Jiang Yuan found her shop. Abal followed along out of sheer boredom, but his eyes soon lit up. He heard a familiar horse’s neigh and rushed over in a few strides. A sleek black horse was being held back by a servant, unable to come forward, and was throwing a temper. The Governor of Bakum laughed loudly, strode up, and wrapped his arms around his partner’s neck, stroking it. Then a sharp cry rang out from the sky. Abal took the leather glove offered by an attendant and fastened it around his wrist. He raised his hand and gave a whistle, and Moonlight swooped down, landing on his shoulder.

Jiang Yuan stood off to the side, holding Sun’s reins and soothing her. In Mali, Sun had always been one of a kind; no horse had ever dared surpass her. The attendant tearfully complained that Night was tyrannical, stealing Sun’s fodder and fighting with her every day. But he had been paid handsomely and had no choice but to tie them together and soothe them daily.

Jiang Yuan could not help laughing. She rubbed Sun’s ears, and Sun burrowed her face into Jiang Yuan’s arms, flicking her tail in displeasure. After so many years apart, Sun no longer followed Night, and did not even put him in her eyes. She had become a proud, beautiful mare. Abal mounted his horse with practiced ease and said to Jiang Yuan, “Since Fatini is here, I should take my leave. The trip to Baghdad can’t be delayed any longer.”

Jiang Yuan nodded. “I’ll send gifts afterward.”

He smiled. “I’ll be waiting for the rare treasures you bring back from the Great Tang. Fatini and I will both be looking forward to them very much.”

He pulled up his face covering, leaving only a pair of blue eyes visible. The Governor of Bakum was now a young man, handsome, outstanding, and dazzling. He urged Night closer to her. He was no longer the boy he had been when they first met. Jiang Yuan stood there waiting calmly, yet somehow it felt very much the same. The bandit chief leaned down and brushed close to her ear, the cool white cloth of his veil grazing her skin. Something was drawn away from her body. Jiang Yuan’s expression changed sharply. “Fuck…” she swore in Chinese.

The bandit chief smugly raised his hand beside her face, showing her a small cloth pouch. Jiang Yuan had always kept her gunpowder hidden close to her body there as a last resort.

“I’ll miss you for a long time. You truly satisfied me.”

Jiang Yuan calmed herself, then calmed herself again. Though she could not get it back, she did not believe he could figure out the proportions. The pouch’s fate would probably be the same as that blister pack of painkillers: charging into battle for him until it died in service. So she pushed him away expressionlessly.

He burst into laughter. Then he straightened, tucked the pouch into his clothes, nodded, and looked at her one last time. In truth, they had never been people on the same road, and they would never walk together to the end. If Jiang Yuan had a suitable candidate, perhaps she too would marry them, just as Abal would marry Fatini. Both of them knew very well that they cooperated only because it allowed each of them to live better.

But people were not always like that. Perhaps if she could do it over again, Jiang Yuan would never chase him into the desert, and Abal would never again exhaust every ounce of wit and strength hiding in the temple just to rescue her from the altar of a god. But there were no ifs in this world. Just as they should never have crossed paths at all, and yet, across two thousand years of time, their gazes and their fates had met here.

The next time they met, they would probably sleep together again. Once, twice, three times. Because they really did fit well in bed. Whatever she wanted to do, he understood it all.

He smiled faintly.

“Until we meet again, Jia Nan.”

Author’s Note:

I thought for a long time about whether to add “my dear” to the last line, but in the end, I decided not to.

Perhaps it is also a call understood without words.

This story ends here. Thank you all for reading.

(The End)