Chapter 2

He vaguely remembered hearing his mother say that further south, it never snowed in the winter. Longxi was too far away; even when fighting took place, it was only a little further south. The wind swirled dust into his eyes, and tears were common during the march. When Li He wasn't on night watch, he would gather with them around the burning firewood. He had slept for so long, and now, being assigned to a new unit to collect grain, he didn't know if he could still light a fire at night.

He only remembered that the previous winter in Longxi had snowed heavily, and the river ice was much thicker than usual. Few fish had been caught in the frozen water, and the few remaining flints at home couldn't even strike a single fire. He hadn't frozen to death last winter, but this winter, he counted, had less than two weeks left.

The herbal smoke finally cleared, and Li He lay back down, his back turned, not wanting to look at the old man. His head was throbbing with pain, and he couldn't hear what he was saying. Being alive was good. When he returned to the battlefield, he would definitely pick up a handy knife. He was short and not very strong, so he could put on two layers of cloth armor before putting on armor. That way, he wouldn't freeze to death on the battlefield this winter.

He didn't know where he was, but he heard them say that once the barbarians were driven back—no, once the imperial court finished collecting grain—the military supervisors would arrive with carts of food and fodder. That way, they could have a full meal and have the strength to fight the enemy. This war would never end. It would only stop when everyone was dead, when the imperial court called for a ceasefire, or when the barbarians retreated south or east.

When it came time to reward people for their contributions, those who had made great contributions would be given official positions. People like them, after retiring from the army, would be exempt from grain taxes for at least three years. By the time they returned home, their wives would be old and their legs would be weaker, and their children would be grown up and ready to get married. The years they didn't pay grain were perfect for finding a match for their children, so they could have a few years of well-fed and well-dressed lives. The remaining grain could be exchanged for two taels of rice wine[1], which they drank sparingly. On winter days with a strong northwest wind, they could drink a sip to warm themselves up, and they wouldn't be afraid of the sand, no matter how yellow or fierce it was. The roof would also need to be rebuilt, and the grain vats had to be carefully watched to prevent insects from crawling in.

Li He followed their words and thought silently. No one would care whether he spoke or not at this time. He thought that after the battle was over, he could find a place to rest at night on his way back. He could no longer remember the way home. He only knew that there was a winding river outside the village, and there were not many fish in it. He could not remember how long it would take to walk back from Longxi, or whether he would be recruited to fight in Saibei this time. When it came to territory and war, Li He's deepest impression was the name he was given. Where were Longxi and Saibei?[2] He only saw the continuous mountains that separated his home.

By the time he could return home, he would be alone anyway. It would be easier to travel alone. If he wanted to live in the village, he could repair the roof of his house, cut some thatch, dry it, and lay it down thickly. Once he had rested enough, he could head south. The snow in Longxi was so heavy that after winter, it was all white and nothing could be seen. Going south, I heard that further south, it was warm and humid year-round. It rained many days in the summer, and in late autumn, the leaves on the trees remained green and didn't fall. And during the winter, he wouldn't have to worry too much about the roof collapsing under the weight of the snow. Going south, the place A Niang sang about should be far, far south. He had to survive.

Only by staying alive could he reach the day when the war was over, and only then would he have time to save money. If he stayed alive, he would eventually find a night of deep sleep, a day when he could save enough money. That time would probably be a few years from now, a little longer wouldn't matter, but it wouldn't be ten years. Either the barbarians would invade or they would be driven out. There were only so many people, and if they all died on the battlefield, there would be no one to bury them. By then, the bodies would lie scattered, the grass wouldn't grow as tall as before, and the windblown sand would be buried in small piles until the smell faded, and perhaps a new war would begin.

Li He believed what they said, because they had been fighting for longer than he had, starting a year ago, and years before that. There were even others who had been fighting even longer than him. But in the middle of the night, when the wind blew the campfire sideways, their voices gradually faded. Some of them fell asleep from exhaustion, but they still said that this war would eventually end.

Li He rubbed his eyes. There was no sound in the house. The old man and the child had gone out without knowing when. He used this time to think again. He decided to stay alive first. There was nothing wrong with being alive. If he went down to see his parents and his younger sister and brother too early, he would not have anything to say. It was all about the war. What could he say about the war? People died, and the survivors were injured and rescued. Then the war continued, and people continued to die. Then he said he was dead. His mother would definitely wipe her tears. He did not want to see her wiping her tears again. He was rescued, so he would live on.

The old man's legs were broken, and the youngest was too young to fight. He must have used a lot of their herbs in bed for over half a month, Li He continued to think: stay alive, and then repay them for saving his life during the next grain collection. He figured it out: until the war was over, he too had nowhere to go. The grain collection should be around the corner. They had taken him away last time, at the beginning of winter. He wanted to go back, back to fight. This time, he knew to pick up a sharp knife first, and choose armor that would protect his bones and stomach.

Going to war, at least you can eat one meal a day. Even the thinnest porridge can be filled with a little hot soup. Perhaps the war won't have to wait five or ten years, but by the beginning of next spring, the war will be over. The Hu people must also need to eat and farm, otherwise they wouldn't have anything to eat, and their horses would be starving. In winter, the fields in Longxi don't grow grass, so the horses, without food, would starve to death. If they starved to death, there wouldn't be so many casualties in the war.

When he went to war again, he could tell the official who was taking the roll that his name was Li He, Li being his surname and He being the river next to the village. He could even peek and see how Li and He were written. Li He thought that the officials would surely be able to write the two characters, and then they would remember that someone knew his name was Li He and that He was the river that freezes.

When he comes back from the war, he can ask people who can read, and ask them how to write "Li" and "He". He will be a person with a name in the future, and it is a name he likes very much. He can also come back to see the old man and the youngest child, and when he sees them, he can imagine what his father and brother would look like if they were not dead. Anyway, he will definitely go west or north, and when he comes back, he will definitely pass by the place where the old man and the youngest child live. With his gratitude, the father and the youngest child will have food to eat this winter, and they can pick more herbs and go out to exchange food with others. These are two people who know him. When he wakes up, he can tell his name to the old man, and they will always remember him.

Li He rolled over. It must have been dark outside. Only the cold moonlight and the chill wind filtered through the straw curtains. He dragged the straw mat over to cover the wound on his stomach. The herbal remedy must have taken effect. He felt the bleeding had stopped, and the pain in his eyes hadn't faded as the light faded.

At this point, it made no difference whether you opened your eyes or closed them; you couldn't see anything anyway. The wind whistled in and out, and the old man hadn't lit a fire. He wished he could get out to the fields and chop some firewood. Then, before the grain officials arrived, the night wouldn't be so cold. A fire would make things look better. When you lie awake in bed, you can turn around and see the crackling flames burning the dry grass. The thatched roof had been soaked by rain, so a small fire and smoke wouldn't be able to burn through. The smoke would definitely be suffocating at first, but with a fire, you could sleep a little longer at night, and you wouldn't be woken by the cold until the firewood burned out.

Li He huddled up, even burying his head under the straw mat, thankfully blocking out the slightest bit of wind. He'd assumed he'd been unconscious for so long that he wouldn't sleep well tonight. Perhaps it was the pain from his wound that had been hurting all afternoon, or the sheer amount of thought he'd just put into his head, or perhaps it was the chill of the wind that blew in tonight. The moonlight had shifted downwards a bit, and he closed his eyes, finally falling asleep, a rare night.

In Li He's dream, the river flowed constantly, gurgling, and fish seemed to swim just above the surface. The tree beside the stream finally bore green fruit, and he stood beneath it, clinging to a branch to see what it was. He seemed to hear another sound, and Li He turned back to find its source. It was coming from his own house.

His younger sister and younger brother ran out, laughing and guessing if there would be anything good to eat tonight. He glanced at them, rolled up his sleeves, and waded into the water, trying to catch a fish hiding near a rock wall. The rocks at the riverbed were slippery, and he stumbled twice before regaining his footing. He reached out and slowly approached the smaller fish. The wind was gentle, and the water was warm. He slowly closed his palms and finally caught the black fish. It was an edible fish, ready to be roasted or boiled over a fire.

Li He thought that his younger brother and sister would be happier now, so he went ashore, held the fish he had just caught tightly in both hands, and slowly walked towards his house.

The moonlight returned, the straw curtains whipping sideways from the wind. A late autumn wind entered the house and joined the sleeping quarters, the mat sliding off Li He's head. He turned over in his dream, sitting by the firewood pile. Mother soothed her younger sister and brother, and the long-forgotten ballad resumed its familiar tune, sung over and over again.

[1] Most muddy wines are rice wine, but drinking in the wilderness of Northwest China must have been difficult at that time. I suddenly felt a sense of empathy.

[2] The world view is an imaginary time travel. The specific technological level refers to the Warring States period to the Qin and Han dynasties. The territory mainly refers to the Qin Dynasty. Longxi and Saibei should be connected, one in the northwest and the other in the grassland.