by Yvonne Wang
. . . . . .
With his clothes at hand, he turns around and his shirt is open; he quickly pulls the herb bowl over and presses up close. He jolts his outer robe and along with the thin blanket, wraps Angela up to the neck inside them. He sits leaning against the wall, has her inclined in his embrace and holds her sick body tight. Angela is terrified, struggling to make out sound.
. . . . . .
Tianyin’s kindness all this time has been . . . . just friendship or family ties. His true love should be the woman in front of her. It was never her. This seems to be the biggest joke that God has played on her . . . .
But she always believed it firmly, stubborn and sinking, unable to remove herself.
. . . . . .
“No, I want to come back . . . .” Tianyin mutters as he turns his head aside weakly to get a view of what is outside the cave: the green mountain ranges and the forests in the distance, rain and fog pour down and the sky is covered with a gray blue. His eyes are colorless, as if wanting to see through the mundane world. He says lightly, “‘Where saving lives is foremost, forget the world’s situations ‘ . . . . I finally understand what it means . . . . today . . . .”
. . . . . .
Saving lives is foremost . . . . this is not referring only to her. He finally chose to give up Great Song—to save Ahling and the child too.
Angela only feels a sadness seize her heart, her legs go weak and she is dizzy. She quivers slightly and her intestines twist. She watches Ahling and feels as if something is robbed empty within, including all the strength that has been sustaining her difficult journey for the last seven months.
But . . . . is it true? Then why did Tianyin . . . .
. . . . . .
Angela waits in the cellar and hears the enemy cavalry roar with their hooves mightily and leave, she finally let out a breath. She tiptoes onto the steps. She sticks her head out of the wooden door and sees Tianyin standing like a tower; his silver sword next to his arm and his serious face goggling clusters of grass. she asks, “They . . . . left?”
Tianyin notices, turns his head and sees that it is her. Suddenly his pupils dilate and a mix of emotions tumble, twisting and churning inside him; his steel-like body shakes ever so slightly.
. . . . . .
All at once, she only feels Tianyin holds her tight too. There is warmth behind her ear and his soft lips peck her lightly. Angela is dumbfounded, the lake of her heart is forthwith overwhelmed with lapping waves and her cheeks are burning hot. The two part slowly and their noses only inches apart; they can hear each other’s breath. But she only sees Tianyin’s eyes deep like sunshine, revealing all suppressed emotions. Both of his hands still linger on her shoulders; his eyes seem tempted but he is reserved and sympathetic.
. . . . . .
Tianyin’s hands and feet grow cold and a vague pain is dull and numb; his black hair with red strands are stuck to his face. With difficulty, he gazes back into the eyes of Angela and softly reminds her, “Don’t forget, go to Hangzhou . . . .”
She nods heavily and caresses his bloody cheek, clear tears slide down and she stubbornly utters sincere words, “I want you to go with me. We can open up a medical clinic together. Everyday . . . . we will be with Uncle He’s children . . . drinking and chatting . . . .”
“Okay . . . .” Tianyin agrees generously and immediately, forcing a smile. He leans against the rock peacefully and says lethargically, “Then let’s go . . . .”
. . . . . .
Was what came through his complicated ebony eyes just family ties? Why did he kiss her and why, did he agree to go to Hangzhou with her? Why, when he knelt beneath the waterfall struggle with such guilt and hate?
Maybe this relationship was nothing, maybe it was everything. In the intersections, it made the two lose themselves. She sighs to look at the boy. His head is like tiger, a wide forehead and brows that embody heroism. He has tan skin and a straight nose, tender eyes that are watery. That look . . . . indeed he has shades of Tianyin.
He has not died, because this child . . . . continues to live for him. This is also a little prince . . . . the final offspring for the imperial family of the Great Song. He also has those pure black eyes. At this point, Angela feels somewhat relieved; she is choked up and stunned.
Ahling sees how dazed she is and understands she is not just a guest in passing. Ahling grips the sword. Her bright eyes urging, she steps forward half a step and asks, “You . . . . how did you get this sword?”
Angela seems to have woken up all of a sudden, looking at this woman in front of her. Grieved, she didn’t know where to begin.
No . . . . don’t let Ahling be as pained as she is. Do not destroy Ahling’s final hope.
She had better go. Let it be that they never met.
She woefully stutters then immediately turns decisive and sharp, saying, “Picked it up.” Finished, she slaps and takes over the long straight sword. She buries her head and grits her teeth; she turns to get the horse to leave. Marching off like a comet, her cracked heart is in pieces. The wind is howling into her ear drums.
“Stop!!” Behind her that severe voice shouts at her fiercely, nailing her in place.
Ahling shepherds Minger over to the back of Angela. Her face is as white as paper, worried and helpless; both eyes are already red. Her voice cracks and is hoarse, as if shedding blood. She interrogates her, “Where is—Tian—yin?”
The young woman is shocked, her blue and dark brown eyes immediately sorrowful as her limbs freeze. She squeezes the rein and cannot move.
Ahling’s jade-like face is moved and her remaining hope turns into a tender despondency. She quivers and says, “Please tell me . . . . Is he okay? Where is he?”
Angela has her back to her; stupefied, she is unable to withstand the interrogation from behind her. Strands of hair are stuck to her cheek and her eyes drip sadness and regret. The memories seem to have occurred just yesterday; they are as painful as being pierced in the heart. If it were not for her, things would never be this way. Were Tianyin to have never met her, he will probably be okay now . . . . Ahling . . . . must love Tianyin more than she does by a hundred-fold. But . . . . how can she do her well . . . . how does she tell her . . . .
“He . . . . is very well.” Angela lowers her head and mutters from the depth of her throat, her teeth frozen and her tongue tied. In short order, she inhales deeply, turns and hangs on to the horse. She searches through her bag, going through her clothes and boots, putting together the little money she has and piles it neatly on her dirty hands, then along with Hanyuan’s Medical Cases, delivers them to Ahling.
“This . . . . is what Tianyin wants me to turn over to you.” Angela pretends that everything is fine though she is still out of breath. But her clear eyes look over pleasantly. She waits until Ahling takes the things over. She is slightly relieved of her sorrows; she encourages and comforts her, “The Medical Cases is written by his dad. It is very important . . . . the original is already damaged. Although this is what I copied down again . . . . but . . . . it is very important.”
Her eyes downcast, her hands wiping her dirty clothes; she sucks the cool air halfway in then says, “He said for you and the kid to hurry up and go back to Song. Go to Hangzhou and find Uncle He’s children . . . . Heng Zhou and Zhen Zhou . . . . There will be internal chaos in Mongolia soon.”
Finished, she feels lighter. She intends to go to Karakorum to assassinate Ögedei. At that time new conflicts will occur. If Tianyin were around, he would want Ahling and them to quickly hide. She looks up, eyes sincere. She hopes that the other person will believe her.
“You are lying.” Ahling’s chilling words burst forth, not at all sentimental. Her words pierce right through, poking Angela numb.
Her deep pupils stare intently at the young woman. A flash of anguish occurs and she slowly shak
es her head and gradually describes the truth of her tough life with each word, “. . . . we haven’t seen each other in four years . . . . he does not know . . . . about this child at all.” The words are drenched in a chill, soaked with many years of loneliness and hardship.
He does not know . . . . about this child at all.
Ahling’s every word is like a giant bell, again shocking Angela into astonishment. Her eyes move and her tiny face perspiring, her words end and her energy is gone. She does not know what to do—she just stands there, awkwardly facing this woman who used to be in love with Tianyin. She does not know what else to say . . . to let herself escape.
Ahling guides Minger with one hand. Mother and child relying on one another; Their watery eyes gaze at Angela, most sincere and earnest, waiting for more explanation from her.
Angela only feels those eyes burn like flames, making her cheeks burn and her insides deadened. She stands mute for a while and finally and suddenly, heartlessly has her back to her. Angela’s sweaty hands squeezing the horse rein. She guiltily avoids Ahling and lowers her head, aloof and dejected, her shoulders hunker down and she is speechless.
Ahling observes her neck and back and can tell something is wrong. Her eyes wide open with disappointment; bright pupils brimming with tears. She has undergone much hardship. Beneath the sunlight, her beads of tears are golden like pearls. Her heart is as if sliced and her face depressed, but she is still stubborn and unrelenting. She quivers and asks that silent outline of a person, saying, “Tianyin . . . . what actually happened?”
The back of that person is equally forlorn and briefly lifts her head, looking over the blue yonder; a lone wisp of a smoke is leisurely climbing and the egg-colored sun hangs in the horizon like a wheel. She pauses briefly then says flatly, “He . . . . is okay . . . . he . . . . is with his dad.”
Angela peers at the sky and sobs to herself helplessly. She . . . . can only say that.
“His dad . . . .” Ahling mutters to herself, shutting her fan-like lashes.
Before she can react, Angela puts the long straight sword on her back, ties up her bag and climbs onto the back of the horse with a clunk. The skinny horse sways and adjusts its steps to move in place.
“You have to—raise this child well.” Angela turns to look down and tells her cordially. Her lake-like eyes stare long and hard, full of warmth, determination and longing. She leaves Ahling with a thousand wishes. She continues, “As for Mongolia . . . . you don’t need to bother.”
“Hey . . . .” Ahling shouts urgently. She heard something strange in her words; she frowns and wants to hold her back.
But the young woman has already rushed the horse forward. She swallows her tears and her stubborn personality does not allow her to hesitate. She speeds away like an arrow. The clicks of the steps flying and the horse mane and tail flail in space.
“Wait!” Ahling yells emotionally. She puts down Minger, pushing away pedestrians and chasing after Angela with all her life, “Come back—” She trips on her skirt and she gets up again. Droplets of tears sprinkle the clay streets. She is huffing and puffing as her distinguished air dissipates. Angela knows that she is pursuing her but can only squint her eyes and insist on running. She is afraid that she will . . . . ask about Tianyin again. She is afraid that she herself . . . . will not have enough courage to walk ahead anymore.
“Boohoo . . . . woo woo.” Behind her is the crying of her son that forces Ahling to stop. She turns back as she sees Minger chasing after his mother and falls hard on the ground, crying loudly and hurt.
Ahling cares about her precious one and goes back, brushing off the dust and lifting him up. She checks his skinned hand and looks again for the young woman’s horse, which is as far away as a dot of star.
She straightens her body and holds Minger with her arm. Her watery eyes see the shadow in the distance and tears blur the scene. A sense of tragedy seizes her and that despair is boundless, making her entire body as stiff as a board. She turns to get a view of the child in her embrace, she kisses that innocent face. She closes her eyes and two rows of tears slide down nonstop and she sobs continuously.
Minger awkwardly wipes the tears off her and speaks in baby talk, “Mom . . . . I am okay . . . . don’t cry.”
Ahling sobs and nods, putting her cheek against Minger’s, she again looks to the direction of the young woman’s departure. She heaves a drawn out sigh.
The banner for tea is flapping in the wind. This city is huge and the wilds connect to the horizons; the dawn’s light is warm and radiant.
One month later. Mongolian capital Karakorum.
“Look! Isn’t that Great Khan’s knife . . . . on that girl?”
“Hurry, go report to Great Khan!”
Angela sits on the sedan chair in a royal dress. She is in a thick and warm Mongolian gown embroidered with colorful patterns. Around her collar is a snow ferret and a velvet scarf. She dons a grand and jeweled crown on her head. The opulence of gold flashes arrogantly. After bathing, her face is clean and her red lips are like a lotus.
However—she does not smile. She is deep in thought and her cold face appears sullen and severe. Her blue and dark brown watery eyes are as deep as wells.
As she lifts her eyes to look, there is hidden bitterness and sharpness.
“No . . . . oh no! Great . . . . Great Khan . . . .”
They only hear a shriek. Lamps and candles are everywhere; a riot starts in the prairies.
Krakow, Poland.
“Your Majesty, look!” Anthony stands on the looking tower in the castle, pointing at the horizon, “The Mongols are evacuating and retreating!”
Alexander rolls up his cloak, three steps become two. He leaps forward and peers over while hanging on to the stone fence. He sees flags waving when Mongolian army drains like a shadowy wave eastward.
The King understands all of a sudden. His blond locks against the wind. His tired face is guilty and grateful. His green eyes are thick with sorrow and he is extremely sad, he mutters, “Angela . . . .”
Silver clouds wash by, the ancient castle stands solid, sitting in the seat that occupies the city. Poland, is still Poland.
December 1241 A.D., Ögedei suddenly dies. The cause of death is unknown and it has become a mystery in history.
Great Khan passes away. All the Mongolian princes must return to Mongolia to participate in the Kurultai Assembly. Batu, the eldest son to Genghis Khan’s eldest son Jochi; Baidar, the eldest son to Genghis Khan’s second son Chagatai; and Hedan, the sixth son of Genghis Khan’s third son Ögedei rush back to Mongolia and withdraw from Europe with their soldiers.
After the death of Ögedei, the imperial family divides. The fight for Khan’s inherited position became more and more intense.
In the next five years, Mongolia was politically governed by Queen Naimaĵin until Ögedei’s eldest son Güyük inherited his position. But people were not compliant. Each contender occupied parts of Khan’s country, struggling for power and cannot unite.
Güyük was in the position for three years and died in 1248.
In 1251, Tolui Khan’s son Möngke was enthroned in Khan’s position, he reigned for nine years.
In 1260, the founder of the Yuan Reign, Kublai called himself Khan and created the Yuan Dynasty.
In 1279, the Mongols captured the Southern Song Dynasty. Xiufu Lu took his eight-year-old little emperor, Bing Zhao, with him and jumped into the sea and died. Southern Song was eliminated completely. Kublai Khan unified China.
As for the land in Europe, the Mongols never set foot on it again.
(The End)
Act Seven
And A Half
Bridge Across the Land
Act Seven and a Half
1368 A.D., Zhu Yuanzhang’s27 Northern Expedition attacks and captures the capital of the Yuan Dynasty, est
ablishing the Ming Dynasty.
In the early fifteenth century, the Renaissance spreads from Florence, Italy to the rest of Europe.
Meanwhile, Europe ushers in the Age of Discovery, starting to explore new sea routes to the world.
The sixteenth century, European commercial capital flourishes, heralding the heyday of mercantilism.
At the same time, since Columbus discovered the New World, waves of immigrants arrive in America.
In 1644, Li Zicheng attacks and captures Beijing, followed by the entry of the Qing Dynasty armies and the move of Emperor Shunzhi to the capital of Beijing. The Qing Dynasty is established.
Late eighteenth century, the industrial revolution breaks out in Europe.
In 1911 Sun Yat-sen leads the Xinhai Revolution28, establishing the Republic of China the following year.
In 1914, the outbreak of World War I.
In 1939, the outbreak of World War II.
In 1949, the founding of the People’s Republic of China.
In 1991, the Soviet Union collapses and the Cold War ends.
The twenty-first century A.D., United States.
On a campus during the month of May, trees are blooming with flowers, the fragrant buds press upon and lower the branches. The spring wind is clear and mild, blowing over as it mixes with the sunlight, sweeping down a sheet of petals, pouring forth and sprinkling speedily. Tiles are paved over the intersecting paths. Flowing over them are students on bikes and skateboards carrying their backpacks who occasionally greet each other. Students who are walking have their headsets and look down at their cell phones.
Some people are jogging in the stadium. A football team is training. The glass on the dormitory building reflects the light of the horizon. Squirrels lookout smartly on the lawn, scurry through the trees or across streets. In front of the School of Architecture is a group of high school students on a visit. In front of the Business School are two professors holding Starbucks coffees, the large television on the wall of the School of Communication and Media is playing the School’s television station programs. Three students before the Medical School are holding discussion on topics from class while hanging on to their laptops. The clock tower at the College of Arts and Science is pointed at an exact hour.
