My Soul is in the Sky
Summer Murong
Copyright © 2015 Summer Murong
All rights reserved.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
ISBN-13: 978-1522800132
ISBN-10: 1522800131
To Marian Stevens.
Contents
1 Night Run
2 Papa
3 an injured man
4 General Wei
5 Family History
6 zhao yan
7 fiancée
8 number thirteen
9 Welcome to the Family
10 Winter Banquet
11 The Saddle
12 La Vie en Rose
13 Run Away
14 Just a Boy
15 Nightmare
16 Imperial University
17 Kitesurfing
18 The Lake
19 Assassination
20 Escape
21 Prince Liu Ju
22 Steal Rain
23 Proposal
24 Hot Spring
25 The Other Woman
26 Leaving
27 Journey to Xiongnu
28 Living on Steppe
29 Love and War
30 Battle of Mobei
31 Death
32 Back in Chang’an
33 Cruise
34 Heqing
35 Armor
36 Farewell
37 Nevernight
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
“You never know how strong you are until being strong is the only choice you have.”
---Bob Marley
1 Night Run
Running has always been a meditation for me. It smooths out every twisted nerve and caresses every tightened muscle. When the tingling sensations, normally after about one or two miles, wave through my body, I feel the awakening of the real me. Only then my body and soul begin to unite.
My mom likes to say that when life throws you a curve, just run it through. I still remember the first time when she said it to me. It was on my first day of middle school in San Diego. That afternoon, I came home and cried my heart out in my room, feeling lonely and self-pity. After twelve years living in China with my grandparents, I found it hard in a new school and a new country. I had no friends and I knew nobody. I was so out of place. I also missed my grandparents, who have been taking care of me since I was a baby.
My parents divorced when I was three. My mom, a Chinese, came to United States to pursue her medical degree. My dad, a Hungarian descendant, was also a medical student when they met. As two doctors in training, they only realized how impossible it was to take care of a baby after they had me. So I was sent back to China with a yearly visit, either they went to China or I flew there to visit them.
When my mom came home that afternoon, she forced my door open with a key and handed me a warm towel for my tears. Ignoring my red puffy eyes, she insisted I put on my sneakers and then she drove me to Sunset Cliff, where we started running and kept on running until the sun sank completely in the ocean.
That was the beginning of my running. To me, its complicity lies in its simplicity. There are no requirement for equipment other than a pair of running shoes, or not, since there are lots of people running without them. I run when I feel happy, I run when I feel sad. No matter what kind of mood I am in, running can always level things out.
So tonight, a beautiful autumn night, I start running again along the river outside the city of Chang’an, the Capital city of Han Dynasty, and the year is 124BC.
Until now, I still do not understand what have happened to me. I went to sleep in my own bedroom in San Diego after my high school prom night, and woke up in the morning finding myself have changed into a fourteen year old girl.
I was surrounded by a 30ish year old Chinese woman and two teenage boys. They were dressed in the ancient Chinese clothes. I could understand what they said, since they spoke in a Chinese dialect my grandparents speak. They were telling me how worried they were while I lost conscious due to high fever. I eventually realized the woman is the mother of the fourteen years old girl and two teenage boys. They kept referring me as “Shiaonu”, so I assumed it is the name of the girl I have become.
I thought I was in a deep dream, the one that you can’t wake up from. So I closed my eyes and forced myself go to sleep more. When I woke up again next morning and found out everything stayed the same, I became panicked. It terrified me so badly, I started screaming and hitting myself against the wall in order to wake up from the dream, or I should say nightmare. The woman and two boys came to me quickly and calmed me down with gentle words and warm hugs.
Later that woman brought me a bowl of chicken soup. She cooked it the same way as my own grandma. I drank some broth and then noticed the hungry eyes from the younger teenager. I gestured him to eat some. He shook his head and told me it was only prepared for me since I was sick.
From that moment, I realized I was not in any immediate danger. I did not try anything drastic any more, instead I decided to become mute. I knew I’d better shut up and conceal the wild turmoil inside. I pretended I have lost my memory. This strategy brought me time to observe the new world.
People here refer themselves as Han, instead of Chinese. They live in Han Empire, their Emperor is Emperor Wu of Han, and their language is Han.
Day by day, I have collected more and more information about the world I am in. I had thought about lots of possibilities on what have happened to me, from hallucination, parallel universe, worm holes, time bending, teleporting, and something with more eastern flavor: reincarnation, soul wondering or body snatching.
From their conversations, I found out some useful information. They live in a village located next to a city called Chang’an, which was the original name for city Xi’an. I have lived in Xi’an with my grandparents for twelve years. So I knew the geographic location right away.
As for the time, I found it out when they talked about their Emperor, who is Emperor Wu. Just like the Chinese History I know, Emperor Wu is the seventh Emperor in Han Dynasty. Prior to him, there were six Emperors who matched with what I have learned from history book as well.
The information is crucial to me since it tells me at least two things. First the match of prior history with my own history knowledge tells me that either I have time travelled to the past or I have teleported to an identical universe with time difference. Either way, I should feel lucky that I am not in a totally unfamiliar world. Secondly, based on Emperor’s current age, I figured out the year I am in, which is 124BC in Gregorian calendar.
Till now, I still have not figured out what had happened. But I have learned to cope with it.
Keep calm and stay alive, I say this to myself every day.
In this new world, I have a family of five: two parents and three children. I am the youngest one in the family with two brothers older than me. The dad, whom I haven’t met yet, is serving in the army at a border city next to Xiongnu, a northern neighboring country next to Han. He has been gone for about two years prior to my arrival.
Niang (mom in Chinese), whom I had such a hard time to get used to her almost indulging affection, treated me like a little baby. I was never treated with such caring and attentiveness. I have been in constant embarrassment when she exhibits her love towards me regardless of time, location or if we are in private or in front of anybody else. I am getting more and more attached to her day by day. She is a hard worker like my own mom. Seeing her working non-stop every day, both at home and in the fields, I always feel the urge to help, not just because she has been so kind towards me, but also the guilt that I have ta
ken the love from her real daughter.
When I started talking, and called her Niang (mom), she burst in tears and cried for hours. I was thought to be “head-burnt” after her daughter lost conscious due to a high fever, when at the same time I showed up in this world.
My older brother Jinu, eighteen years old, comes home every ten days. He works as an apprentice in a blacksmith shop in town. When he comes home, he always brings me little gifts: a small cricket in the straw box, some red flowers to color my finger nails, or a carved box. He pulls the weeds and waters the crops in the fields. He also makes sure there are enough firewood in the kitchen and enough water in the large clay water tank. Jinu is the big help for Niang and the dependable brother to me.
Ponu, my sixteen year old brother, is my constant companion and a big headache to Niang. He easily forgets chores Niang has assigned to him and comes home without remembering any of them at all. The usual scene will be Niang chasing him with the broom. He is a nut case when it comes to martial arts. He always tells me that someday he will tour the world and will find him a martial art master Shifu, preferably someone low-key and mysterious. That reminded me the Shifu in Kung Fu Panda.
Every time when Ponu makes some imaginary Kung Fu moves in front of me, I contemplate if I should share some moves I have learned from my three years after-school martial art training. But so far, I have kept everything as intact as possible. After all, I am concerned of time line changes. I am afraid any changes will impact the history and my existence in my original world, which will ultimately prevent me from going back home.
I tried to stay low as much as possible. But I still see their frequent surprise looks. When you have lived with a family for fourteen years, it’s easy for them to detect the differences. Fortunately, they are not curious types and their love to me is blind. They brushed off those doubts easily.
My mom held me tightly and cried again when she found out I did not know how to light the fire using two rocks. She told me I knew how to start a fire when I was six. She started teaching me everything, from how to put on the awfully complicated clothes, layer by layer, to how to wear the wooden clogs, which I am still having hard time with. I’d rather be in bare feet or in straw shoes.
When I realized that my stay might be long, I quickly assessed my situation: I do not have problem communicating. I can speak Mandarin perfectly, thanks to my Chinese grandparents at my mom side. Mandarin, the official language in modern-day China, is not quite far from the language used in Han. They have the same grammar, same structure, same sequence, but subtle different sounds and a few differences in naming same objects.
The big problem lies in the writing. The writing in this world is quite different than the one I used to know. Luckily, the girl in this world did not learn how to write or read. With the help of memory loss, I can easily just be me in this world.
Then I decided to train myself physically. In such a primitive time, the survivorship largely depends on the physical ability. I start working on my flexibility, my running speed and my endurance. I do not put any effort on strength training since I figure my best chance in the dangerous situation is to run rather than to stay fighting.
I started running at night after everyone goes to sleep. My nightly running has been going quite well. I gradually increased my running from about one miles to five or six miles every night. Every five days, I pull a long run for about two hours straight.
I miss a good pair of running shoes badly. But in this world, there is no cotton or rubber yet. Those two items will only be available hundred years later in China. So I made my own straw shoes and strengthened them by wrapping an old long linen sash. There is silk, but it is too expensive for my family. Linen is the fabric we use most of the time. After the skin on my feet got enough torture, I thoroughly enjoy them. They are economic, easy-to-make, and mostly, they turned me into a minimalist runner, a goal I could only hope for but too painful to reach in previous life.
So in this crispy autumn night, I run again along the river, my favorite path. I have been in this new world for nine months. From initial panic, I have accepted the fact that I have been teleported and time travelled to ancient China. I don’t know how it happened, nor do I know how to get back or if I can get back. But I start to accept the fact that I am now living in this world as a fourteen year old country girl. I need to learn how to survive in ancient China. With all my knowledge in Chinese history, I believe I have a good chance.
I also start to appreciate a world before industrialization. Although it is inconvenient for most of the time, but a night like tonight is something I really enjoy. It is so quiet. The moon is high and the breeze is gentle. Big willow trees, swaying gently, choreographed a beautiful dance of light and shadow. A few fainted yellow lights skipped out from the farm houses far away. Occasionally I can hear dogs barking.
I have taken off my overly-clumsy clothes, packed them in my self-made backpack. I then put on a pair of shorts, cutting from my brother’s old pants, and a t-shirt which was made of two piece of linen cloth with holes for head and two arms.
As usual, by this time, most of people have gone to bed. When I sneaked out the house, I can hear the calm and even breathe from my Niang and the light snore from Ponu.
It is a really a relaxing run. My breath is steady and my pulse is strong. I am quite satisfied with the state.
When I first detect the unusual sound, it was very subtle, just a bit different than the sound of wind. Then it becomes clear, I can tell it is the sound of horse galloping, coming towards me from my back. I stop my running and listen to the sound for a while, estimating how soon they will be able to catch up with me.
No matter who are there, I do not believe it is a good idea to let them see me.
So I decide to find a dark place and hide in the night shadow.
I have stayed calm until the dog barks. I know I am in trouble. The dog has found my hiding place. I start to run as fast as I can.
Normally I would not think I can out run a well-trained dog. But from his heavy panting, I can tell the dog has been running for a while. And I really don’t have any other choice but taking my chance running away.
But I am deadly wrong this time.
I find myself almost at the tip of the high branch, I know I cannot move any further. The branch won’t be able to hold my weight. I look down, trying to figure if I can land safely should I jump, but it’s too dark to tell how high I have climbed.
“Who are you?” His face is in the shadow while his sword shines when he extends it and points it towards my throat. For the past thirty minutes, this guy has been chasing me on his horse. I have outrun his dog, but he did not stop. So I ran into the woods with lots of low hanging branches. It has caused quite a few curses when he got hit. But he still did not stop.
So here we are, I got on a tree and stayed on top hoping he would give up. But that was a mistake I made. He is a better climber than me. When he pulled a sword out of nowhere, I could feel the cold sweats break out on my spine.
I did not answer.
He deliberately put one foot on the branch where I am and shake it a little. I hurry in holding a branch over my head and try to keep my balance.
“Why did you run?” He asks again.
“Why did you chase me?” I ask him.
He leans forward and his face is now under the moon light. I can see the disbelief on his face.
“You are a girl. “
Or is that a question?
I tighten my lips and decide not to say anything.
Hearing nothing from me. He slowly withdraws his sword and puts it back to his sheath on the back.
“You are a very good runner.” He tells me while examining me carefully. When he sees my self-made t-shirt and shorts, he raises his eyebrows.
In Han, women should be covered at least from neck down. Most women from well off families are expected to wear hat with dark veil when they go out. Their faces can only be seen by their family members. A lot of co
uples have never seen each other until their wedding night.
So he gives me a look of extreme disapproval.
“Have you had hairpin ceremony yet?” He asks me. Hairpin ceremony marks the end of a girl’s childhood and the beginning of womanhood.
I understand right away where that question coming from. Without a hairpin ceremony, a girl is still considered to be a kid, thus the misbehavior is easier to be forgiven.
“No.” I answer him.
But my croaked voice was misunderstood by him.
“Don’t need to cry.” He says. “I am not going to hurt you. But why are you still outside at this late night?”
“I like to run and my Niang won’t let me.”
He seems surprised with my answer.
“A little girl likes to run… but why?”
“I just like it and it helps me…“ I hesitated if I should continue.
“What does it help you?”
“It helps me to run away when I am in danger.”
At first he looks awed by my answer, then he chuckles, as if he just heard something very funny. With me being cornered at the end of tree branch, it does sound like a joke.
“I guess I have not run fast enough.” I admit it to him.
“Oh, you did run very fast, and your endurance is very good too.” He says. “But you should not expect to deal with dangers on your own. Your family, like your father or your brothers, should protect you. Once you are married, your husband should do the same. Then your son and so on. As a girl, you should stay home doing weaving or embroidery, or something like that. Instead of running at night, wearing things like that.” His voice trails down at the end.
“That is just a male chauvinism shit.” I mumble, which is definitely an adrenaline spike. I should have bit off my tongue.
“A what? “ He might not understand chauvinism, but he definitely picked up the disagreeable tone.
I stay silent.
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