Death of Song Yaoer
The sandstorms in the southern part of the desert never cease. Under the dim sky, the Western Qiang camp looks like a giant beast entrenched in the wilderness, with tents stretching out in a continuous line, flags fluttering, and the air filled with the smell of burnt barbecue.
Deep in the camp, outside the largest felt tent, a bonfire was crackling. Several Western Qiang generals sat around drinking, with wine overflowing from the corners of their mouths, dripping onto their tangled beards mixed with oil.
They talked and laughed loudly in Qiang language, and from time to time they broke into wild laughter.
A skinny boy, with his head lowered, deftly collected the remaining bones into a broken wooden barrel beside him.
His name is Ding Guinan, perhaps he himself has almost forgotten this name.
Here, he is a "dog slave", the son of a Han slave captured by the Western Qiang people. His parents died in endless torture long ago, and he survived like a weed, relying on his cleverness and humility.
"Dog slave! Come here!" A centurion with a red face shouted with a breath of alcohol, and threw a half-eaten sheep bone stick to the ground, splashing some dust.
"Imitate a few dog barks and I'll give you a reward!"
Ding Guinan immediately pounced forward, got down on all fours, and barked without hesitation, his voice perfectly lifelike. He even wagged his nonexistent tail in a flattering manner and smiled at the Qiang man, "Thank you, General, dog slave. Woof woof!"
The Western Qiang people inside and outside the tent laughed so hard when they saw this.
Ding Guinan picked up the bone and, like a real wild dog, tore the pitiful scraps of meat on it with his teeth, chewing with a smacking sound.
"Good dog! What a good dog!" Another centurion laughed and pounded the ground, pouring half a bowl of leftover wine in front of him. "This is a reward!"
Ding Guinan immediately leaned over and licked the wine that had seeped into the soil, with a flattering smile on his face.
It smells like wine and meat! Great, I'll have something to eat today.
Humiliation? What is that? Living, living like an animal, that's all.
He was very satisfied to be able to beg for a piece of meat.
It was late at night. After cleaning up the mess, he carried the heavy chamber pot and staggered towards the commander-in-chief's tent. As the lowest-ranking servant, he could sometimes enter the tents of these big men to do some cleaning.
When I lifted the curtain and walked in, a strong smell of alcohol and an indescribable fishy smell hit me in the face.
The light in the tent was dim. A figure was curled up on a thick wool blanket, his clothes disheveled, and purple marks on his exposed skin.
She is a Han Chinese woman.
Ding Guinan recognized her. Her name seemed to be Song Yaoer. Like him, she was a captured slave, but her "purpose" was different.
She seemed to always be called to serve these senior generals.
He knew that she was young, beautiful, and literate, and was different from the others.
Those Qiang people like this kind of Han women.
"Get up! Get out!" Ding Guinan urged in a low, dry, rapid voice in Chinese. "The general doesn't like people staying in his tent for too long. When he comes back and sees you, he'll beat you again!"
The figure under the blanket moved. Song Yaoer slowly sat up, silently pulled up her torn clothes, looked at him with empty eyes, said nothing, lowered her head, and walked out silently.
From beginning to end, not a word was said.
There were several more such encounters later.
Sometimes during the march, he saw Song Yaoer being dragged and forced to drink by several Qiang soldiers, with her clothes torn to pieces; sometimes in the corner of the banquet, she was pushed around like an object.
Ding Guinan always quickly lowered his head, worked harder at his job, and imitated the barking of a dog, making the Qiang people laugh.
Ding Guinan thought to himself, I can’t see, I can’t see anything.
We are different, I want to survive.
Until one day, when he was drawing water from a small creek, Song Yaoer approached him.
She stuffed something into his hand, cold but with her own faint body temperature.
It was a rough silver hairpin, which seemed to be a reward given to her by the Qiang people.
He was puzzled. What did this mean?
"Can you help me get a knife?" Her voice was as low as a mosquito.
Ding Guinan was so frightened that he almost jumped up and dropped the scoop in his hand. He returned the thing to her and looked around in horror. He lowered his voice and shouted, "You are crazy! If you want to die, don't drag me down!"
Song Yaoer didn't say anything, but just stared at him with those dead eyes, and there was something in them that made his scalp tingle.
"Knife? What do you want a knife for? Ah? You..." Ding Guinan was anxious and scared. He wanted to scold her and make her wake up, but looking at her appearance, the words were stuck in his throat.
He took the watering can and turned away, not wanting to provoke this madman.
But after taking just two steps, he turned around, made up his mind, and snatched the silver hairpin. He held the hairpin tightly in his hand, turned around and ran away without looking at Song Yaoer.
Returning to the corner of the tattered tent where he lived, he secretly took out the silver hairpin and looked at it carefully against the light coming through the gap. It felt heavy in his hand, probably weighing nearly one or two taels, which could be exchanged for a lot of food. He felt secretly happy, but also scared.
That crazy woman is really tired of living.
He buried it deeper and decided to ignore the crazy woman no longer.
But the camp is so small, they will always run into each other.
Every time they met, Song Yaoer didn't say anything, but just stared at him straight. Her eyes were like needles, making him feel uneasy.
He dodged at first, but then became angry at being stared at. Once, when there were no Qiang people around, he threatened viciously in a low voice: "Look again! If you look again, I'll beat you up! Tell the adults and throw you to the wolves!"
Song Yaoer seemed not to hear it, and the next time, she still looked at him the same way.
This silent torture almost made Ding Guinan collapse.
Finally, one evening, he somehow sneaked to where Song Yaoer was working and quickly stuffed a rusty old dagger into her hand.
"Take it! Don't look at me anymore! We are even now!" He said hurriedly, turned around and wanted to run.
"What's your name?" Song Yaoer suddenly asked.
Ding Guinan paused and was stunned.
Name? No one has asked his name for years.
He laboriously dug deep into his memory, and those deliberately forgotten fragments gradually emerged: his parents' blurred faces, their whispered admonitions...
"Ding Guinan." His voice was hoarse, almost not his own. "My name is Ding Guinan."
Song Yaoer nodded gently and whispered, "I remember it."
Ding Guinan left as if he was escaping.
But after returning home, the more he thought about it, the more he felt something was wrong, and cold sweat dripped down his face.
What did that woman want a knife for? What if she did something stupid, got caught, and confessed under torture? Giving her a knife myself would be courting death.
He regretted it and planned to get the knife back tomorrow, or even just return the silver hairpin to her. He couldn't get involved in such a life-threatening matter!
He no longer remembered what his parents looked like. He only remembered that in that dark, smelly, pigsty-like scene, his parents kept him alive.
How could he have brought such trouble upon himself?
What should I do? I’m so anxious! I’ll go there tomorrow morning and come back!
He was thinking anxiously like this until the second half of the night.
Suddenly, a huge noise broke out on the west side of the camp!
Crying, shouting, and cursing suddenly tore through the tranquility of the night.
Ding Guinan jumped up with a start and followed the other awakened slaves, rushing towards the commotion in panic.
In the light of the fire, a horrifying scene came into view.
The area in front of the felt tents of several generals was in a mess. Several corpses of Western Qiang generals lay on the ground. Some had scissors stuck in their bodies, and some had their throats cut, with blood gushing out.
Next to them were the corpses of more than a dozen Han female slaves. Their clothes were torn, they were covered in blood, and they fell to the ground in various twisted postures. Some of them even bit the flesh of the Qiang people until their death!
Sixteen women!
They didn't know how to connect with each other, but on this night, they took revenge like moths to a flame!
I heard that some people worked together to knock down a drunken general, while others sneaked into the tent alone...
Four or five of them succeeded, but most were hacked to death by the guards who reacted quickly.
Ding Guinan saw Song Yaoer among the bloody corpses at a glance.
She lay on her back with a horrifying bloody hole in her chest. Her eyes, which always looked at him blankly, were now wide open, staring at the starless night sky in Mo Nan.
Ding Guinan felt as if all the blood in his body had frozen and his hands and feet were icy cold.
"Damn you two-legged sheep! They're rebelling! They're all rebelling!" A surviving Western Qiang noble roared furiously, a bloody streak still streaking down his face. "Kill! Capture all the Han slaves! Kill them all! Commemorate the fallen warriors!"
The Qiang soldiers, like wolves and tigers, immediately rushed into the slave camp, indiscriminately grabbing and chopping anyone with black hair and yellow skin! Screams suddenly filled the air.
Ding Guinan was also roughly dragged out. Terrified, he cried out in his most fluent Qiang language: "Sir! I am not Han Chinese! I am your dog! I am loyal! Let me go! Let me go!"
"I'm loyal! I'm different from them!"
The Qiang soldiers who were trying to capture him ignored him and raised their scimitars.
Is he going to die?
Song Yaoer, I hate you!
Ding Guinan was filled with hatred. Why did they want revenge? Why did they want to implicate him? He just wanted to survive! Could he not even survive?
The cold blade reflected Ding Guinan's desperate face, and he saw Song Yaoer's eyes that were still open not far away.
Now, they are going to die together, damn it!
When he goes to hell, he will beat her up severely. This woman has caused him so much trouble!
Right at this moment.
call out!
A sharp arrow came through the air and pierced the throat of the Qiang soldier holding a knife!
The Qiang soldier froze in his tracks, looked down in shock at the arrow feathers trembling in his throat, and fell to the ground with a thud.
Ding Guinan was confused.
Then, arrows rained down from outside the camp like a torrential downpour! Countless torches suddenly lit up, illuminating the dazzling words "Mingzhu" on the black banner!
The shouts of killing shook the earth. The Southern Dynasty soldiers, like a tide, armed with sharp blades, broke through the camp fence and rushed into the chaotic Western Qiang camp!
"Kill the Qiang dog!"
"Long live Her Royal Highness Princess Mingzhu!"
Ding Guinan rolled and crawled to hide behind a broken car, holding his head, his whole body shaking like a fallen leaf in the autumn wind.
Fire, blood, slaughter, roars...
The whole world was spinning before his eyes.
He saw the once-arrogant Western Qiang warriors panicking in the face of the sudden attack, saw the familiar slave camp ablaze amidst the flashes of swords and sabers, and saw the once-unreachable Pearl Banner fluttering in the air, illuminated by blood and fire, drawing ever closer...
He survived.
Ding Guinan took another look at Song Yaoer's body.
But she died.
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