The day grew dark. The moon slowly rose in the sky.
The three men who’d been left behind to take care of any emergencies in the encampment felt there was nothing to worry about now that they knew Gongzha was on his own and wounded, so they went up the mountain to join in the fun. The women didn’t go up with them; they stayed down below, chatting among themselves.
No one knew how the fire in the tents behind them started. They just heard Sega shouting and then Yangji.
‘Fire! Fire! Come and help us put it out!’
‘Who could have started it? What about the children? Tajiapu, where are you?’
‘Dawacuo? Dawacuo!’
*
Gongzha was hiding behind a boulder, his sheepskin chuba tied around his waist, his shoulder wet with blood. He’d been plotting his escape when he suddenly saw flames rising into the sky. Then he heard Jijia shouting orders. ‘Three of you go and watch the pass; everyone else go back down to fight the fire.’ Guns in hand, the men who’d been hunting him flew back down the mountain.
Gongzha had no idea what was going on, so he poked his head out to have a look.
‘Uncle Gongzha! Uncle Gongzha…’
A figure appeared to the right of the boulder; it seemed to be carrying a child.
‘Dawacuo, what are you doing here?’
‘We’ve come to rescue you!’ Dawacuo flashed him a clever smile.
‘This is no time for games, Dawacuo. Hurry back and find your mother.’
‘Ama sent me up here. Uncle Gongzha, this is Uncle Jijia’s child. Auntie Sega says that you’re to take good care of him and not hurt him.’
‘Jijia’s son?’ Gongzha pictured the little boy in Yongxi’s arms, sturdy as a calf.
‘Yes. He’s called Tajiapu. He’s sleeping now. Are you hurt, Uncle Gongzha?’
Gongzha twitched the corner of his mouth, forced out a smile and said, ‘Uncle is slightly hurt, but it’s fine.’
‘Let’s go to the cave; there’s medicine there. Before, when Auntie Sega was learning to shoot, she came up here to hunt. If she hit an animal that was too small to keep by mistake, we helped it get better and then let it go.’
Gongzha glanced at the flames down below and then at Dawacuo. He finally understood. Clutching the right side of his chest, he followed Dawacuo back to the cave, took off his chuba and made Dawacuo hang it over the cave mouth. He used his flint to light some oily paper and sterilised his knife. Then he bent his head and cut open his chest; blood streamed down his copper-coloured skin.
Dawacuo took off her headscarf and helped mop it up. ‘Does it hurt, Uncle Gongzha?’
Gongzha gritted his teeth and pulled out the bullet. It clanged as it fell onto the stony floor of the cave. ‘No.’
Dawacuo pulled a paper bag from a crevice in the rock, sprinkled some medicinal powder on Gongzha’s wound, then wrapped it in a clean cloth she’d brought.
Tajiapu lay quietly on Dawacuo’s chuba, breathing evenly.
Dawacuo filled a wooden pail with water, cleaned the blood off Gongzha’s chest with a small cloth and helped him pull on his clothes. When he saw her looking tearful, Gongzha smiled and said, ‘Dawacuo, why doesn’t Uncle sing for you?’
‘Alright.’ Dawacuo took down the chuba from the cave mouth and covered Gongzha with it. With Tajiapu still fast asleep, she sat down and leant against Gongzha.
Gongzha gazed out at the bright moonlight and sang softly.
‘Today I must go to a faraway land
When we parted you said, “Please don’t forget me.”
Our promise hangs high in the sky
Those white clouds, those stars, that moon
Bear witness to our promise that in the next life we will meet again
And never forget each other.
‘Beautiful shepherdess, I love you
No matter how the world changes, you are forever in my heart.
Beautiful shepherdess, your laughter echoes under the blue sky
And deep in my heart.
‘Oh, give me a tent
I want to take your hand and live together free of pain.
Oh, give me some land
I want to dance with you there, slowly and forever.
‘Shepherdess, sweet shepherdess
When will you return and make our love run smooth?
My greatest hope is not to be separated
Has our love in this life already scattered?
Could it be that loving you brings only despair?
Every day without you is a tragedy.’
*
In the morning, Jijia came charging murderously up the mountain with a band of men and horses. He rampaged all over the mountain, occasionally firing into the air. ‘Gongzha, Gongzha, what sort of man are you? Not only do you set fire to one of our tents, but you steal my son too?’
The gunshots frightened the child awake. When Tajiapu opened his eyes and saw that he was not in his familiar tent, he began to wail.
Gongzha stood up, clasping his wound, took up his gun, and walked out.
Dawacuo quickly picked up Tajiapu and put him in Gongzha’s arms. ‘Auntie Sega said that if Jijia sees you holding him, he’ll let you go. I know you’re hurt, Uncle Gongzha, but we can’t do anything about that just now – try and hold on a bit longer.’
Using a child as a shield was against Gongzha’s principles. He wanted to put Tajiapu down, but the little boy was still bawling and Dawacuo was pushing him from behind. He had no option but to go out there with the child in one hand and his gun in the other.
Jijia was standing less than fifty metres below him with a gang of men. They all looked up in surprise when he suddenly appeared with Tajiapu.
‘Tajiapu, darling, Aba’s here; there’s no need to be afraid.’ When Jijia saw his son flailing and screaming in Gongzha’s arms as if his guts were about to burst, he hurriedly ordered his men to hold back. ‘Don’t open fire. I’ll kill anyone who hurts Tajiapu.’ Then he cursed Gongzha. ‘You’d use a couple of kids to protect yourself, Gongzha? You spineless creature, you’re feebler than a blade of grass on the plain.’
Gongzha gave a bitter laugh. He glanced first at the child bawling in his arms and then at Jijia. ‘Yongxi had this child for you, and you still doubt her? Don’t you understand what sort of person your woman is, Jijia? Come, take your son back down. I might not be a soaring eagle, but I have eagles’ wings in my heart. How could I use a child to protect myself? Come, take your son.’
Hearing this, Jijia’s eyes grew wide. He stared at Gongzha in disbelief. ‘If you weren’t intending to use him as a shield, why did you steal him?’
‘Steal him? When did I steal—’ Gongzha was about to say that the children had run up the mountain themselves, but Dawacuo tugged on his clothes from behind. He recovered himself and hurriedly said, ‘I was simply afraid that your son would be killed in the fire, so I brought him and this little girl up here.’
‘So I’m supposed to thank you for saving my son?’ Jijia laughed coldly. ‘You think I’m three years old?’
Gongzha laid the child on the ground, squatted down, pulled Dawacuo forward and said, ‘Take him over there.’
Dawacuo took Tajiapu’s small hand very unwillingly and slowly made her way down the slope.
Gongzha stood up. ‘Jijia, why don’t we settle this matter the grassland way?’
Jijia rushed over, picked up his son and handed him to his men. When he turned to face Gongzha, there was a look of appreciation in his eye. ‘It seems you’re a decent man after all. So, what will it be?’
‘Man to man. No guns. Knives.’
‘That’s not fair. You’re wounded. Let’s use guns, it’s faster.’
Gongzha nodded and lifted up the old gun beside him. Jijia shook his head. ‘That gun of yours is too heavy; use this one.’ He took a smaller gun off one of his men and threw it to Gongzha.
‘We’ll go by the old rules: a single shot each. Let fate decide.’ Jijia stood on a rock and raised his
hand.
Gongzha also raised his hand.
The two men stood there in the morning light staring at each other, faint signs of frustration on both their faces.
Gongzha’s frustration was that his opponent was Yongxi’s man. No matter how evil Jijia was, it shouldn’t be up to him to take his life. In all Gongzha’s years of hunting, his gun had never taken a human life.
Jijia’s frustration was that Gongzha had unexpectedly given his son back. He’d thought Gongzha had stolen Tajiapu and was going to use him as a hostage. He saw that Gongzha’s chest was bandaged and that blood was seeping through the white cloth, yet Gongzha stood there proud and quiet. Jijia admired that kind of man, a true grassland man: dripping blood not dripping tears, prepared to lose his life but not to lose face.
The wind moaned. Two old geese flew past, squawked and disappeared into the distance. The silence intensified, as in the moment just before an explosion. If there was a gunshot, one man would fall.
A sudden hysterical shout rose up from the foot of the mountain and surprised Jijia so much he almost dropped his gun. ‘Jijia, you stole my son! If you kill my brother, don’t you ever expect to enter my tent again!’
Yongxi. If only she’d come earlier or later – why did she have to turn up exactly at this moment? Jijia was a respected figure in the wilderness, how could he be so frightened of a woman?
Very impatiently, very reluctantly, Jijia put down his gun, lowered his head and said disappointedly, ‘Go, Gongzha. The bear you’re looking for left this area yesterday. She went to the other side of the lake.’
Gongzha looked at Jijia, who a moment ago had stood there fearlessly, about to risk his life, but now seemed as miserable as a patch of frostbitten grass, and he couldn’t help laughing. This really was a case of one person having power over another. He brought his palms together in grateful thanks, nodded to Jijia, picked up his gun and headed off towards the mountain pass. The sound of his lusty singing drifted back on the wind.
23
As Feng watched the grassland flashing by, getting wilder and increasingly remote the deeper in they drove, she grew more and more unsettled. But this was No Man’s Land after all, not some Shanghai backstreet. She’d set out so hastily – what if she didn’t find him? What if when she did find him, he didn’t want her?
She sighed inwardly. Given that she had made the decision to go looking for him, what was the point of overthinking it now? As for whether or not he would want her, she’d worry about that when she found him.
Gongzha: placid by nature but also capable of intense feelings. She had never missed someone so much, had never missed a place so much. Everything about the Tibetan wilderness was beautiful, and he was somewhere in this heavenly place, somewhere in this boundless vastness.
Rongma was right on the edge of No Man’s Land and the last place to get supplies. Feng took the advice of her driver Junsang and agreed to stay there a couple of days to rest and stock up on food. Two days was not a long time, but to Feng, who was longing to spread her wings, it seemed like two years.
She remembered Rongma very clearly. She had said goodbye to Gongzha on the mountain pass above the town. At the time, she’d thought she would never come back, would never see him again. Standing in the town now, she felt an incomparable sense of familiarity. Even the afternoon dust and the filthy street dogs seemed almost familial; it was as if she’d never left. She walked confidently as she meandered down the empty street. A little lamb trotted by and Feng knelt down to let it lick her palm. The warm feeling on her hand felt just like Gongzha’s gaze. When she was ill, being in Gongzha’s care had felt like that. Where under this blue sky was he? Which white cloud was hiding him, which mountains were sheltering him?
As if in a dream, she made her way to the hot springs, marvelling at the lovely red-rock valley unfolding in front of her. Beneath the blue sky and white clouds, the glistening travertine had formed all kinds of shapes, and the clear, steaming pool shone like a beautiful piece of jade. Red, white and blue pools were scattered across the slope. A stream wound its way through the pale yellow travertine, babbling cheerfully over red and green pebbles polished smooth and shiny by its flow. She picked one up and held it in her hand. It was cold, and as she rubbed it she felt a deep sense of calm. The grass on either side of the stream was a lush, dark green, and further up the slope some lost sheep were gazing down at her.
Feng stood on a ledge and saw that there were three levels, each with its own particular beauty. She was on the highest tier, where steam swirled across the surface of a hot-water lake and a small spring gurgled alongside. Some of the nearby springs had water, others were dry patches of ground that quivered and pulsed. To one side stood a stone incense burner that looked like it hadn’t been used in a long time, and above the steaming lake a string of five-coloured prayer flags fluttered gently in the wind. These were the only manmade things in sight and they lent a Buddhist air to the land and the water.
On the second tier was a small pool fringed by slabs of black stone. Hot water streamed down the slope from the plain above and in places a yellow flower protruded above the flow, waving towards the sun. The springs on the lowest tier were fed by a stream, its silver waters like a little parasol. The entire place was like a dreamscape. Feng stood there captivated by the sight of such striking beauty in the wilderness, quite forgetting where she was.
Just then a Tibetan woman emerged from the valley opposite. Tall and slender, with tanned cheeks and heavy eyebrows, she was dressed in a black robe and wore her long hair braided into countless tiny plaits; her large eyes shone like the light of the sun.
When she saw Feng, she stopped in surprise, then smiled, revealing two rows of white teeth. She continued to the edge of a small pool, took off her robe, walked into the water and began splashing herself. Seeing Feng staring stupidly at her, she laughed and said in Sichuanese-accented Mandarin, ‘Aren’t you going to bathe?’
Feng watched as the woman carried on splashing herself and giggling as the water caressed her butter-coloured skin. In a flash, Feng’s body began to itch, as if tens of thousands of tiny insects were crawling all over her. All those days on the road had made her weary, and her long hair had sand in it and stuck to her back like a board.
She walked over, took off her clothes and entered the pool. As her body sank into the warm, clear water, she felt relaxed in a way she’d never experienced before.
The woman laughed. ‘Your skin is so white, it’s like milk.’
‘Yours is also very nice, like butter.’ Feng looked at her smiling face and added, ‘I’ll help you undo your plaits.’
‘Alright!’ the young woman replied and came over, turning her back towards Feng.
Feng lifted up a handful of her small plaits and began to slowly undo them. She laid the pieces of red coral and turquoise that were threaded through the plaits at the edge of the pool. ‘Your hair’s so long! Black and slippery like silk.’
‘It’s never been cut,’ the woman said. ‘Your hair is also beautiful, so curly. Where are you from?’
‘Shanghai. Have you heard of it?’
‘Yes. It’s very big, isn’t it?’
‘It is. Lots of cars and people.’
‘Are you here on holiday?’ The woman dunked her hair in the water and began to scrub it; it drifted lightly in the ripples.
‘I…’ Feng leant back against the edge of the pool and stretched out her legs. Underwater, her skin looked as smooth and white as jade. She folded her arms behind her head and gazed up at the slowly moving clouds; as she did so, that bearded face floated out from among them. She laughed, blushing a little, and said lightly, ‘I’ve come to find my spouse.’
‘What’s a spouse?’ the young woman asked, turning to Feng with a smile.
‘A spouse is what you would call a man.’
‘Oh, you’ve come to find your man!’ She smiled again. ‘Your man is very lucky to have married a woman as beautiful as you!’
‘Am I b
eautiful? No, you’re beautiful. As beautiful as this plateau.’ Feng smiled, sat up and helped the young woman rub her back. ‘Do you have a man?’
‘Yes. But he’s not here now, he’s always off with his gun somewhere. I’m getting ready to go and look for him.’ The woman blushed, her fingers unconsciously running over her full breasts. Where was he? When would that man stop wandering the wilderness with his old gun and his old horse and come to permanent rest in her tent?
Feng looked at the woman, so lost in her imagination; her entire face was a picture of blissful rapture. This was a woman sunk deep in the river of love – only a woman with love and longing in her heart would wear an expression like that.
‘You must have felt blessed when you were together,’ Feng said, as she and the woman rested against the side of the pool.
‘Yes. I like being with him. He’s a real man, not afraid of anything. That’s the sort of man I like, the sort that makes a woman feel safe. What about your man? Is he good to you?’
‘He is. The last time I was here, I’d got so lost, I almost died, and it was him who saved me and led me out of No Man’s Land. Those days that we were together were the happiest of my life. He taught me how to tell the direction and how to identify the tracks of different animals. We even rescued two little antelopes, called Baobao and Beibei, though unfortunately I couldn’t take them back to Shanghai. They must be grown up now – I wonder if they’ll recognise me?’
‘If you’ve come this far to find him, surely he’ll be moved?’
‘I don’t know. Although…’ Feng pictured the shocked expression on Gongzha’s face when he finally got to see her and she couldn’t help smiling.
‘Men…! If you kept them locked up at home all day, they’d feel stifled. But no matter how far they run, women like us will always catch them in the end.’
‘When I find him, I’m not going to let him go off wandering by himself again. I want to be with him – where he goes, I’ll go too,’ Feng said. As she imagined never being apart from him again, she laughed happily.
Love In No Man's Land Page 36
