Hehua knew her father had taken three sacks of grain from Liu Fugui of the next village and traded her to him as a second wife. She knew she was twenty-one and plain-looking, and that this was probably how it would end. But Liu Fugui was a notorious drunk and scoundrel for miles around, and his first wife had thrown herself into the river rather than endure his beatings. Hehua did not want to jump into a fire she could see burning. She told her father she would not marry Liu Fugui. He glared at her. "You're twenty-one and you still think you'll marry some gentleman and be a lady? Both your younger sisters are married. How long do you plan to eat for free in this house?" "I don't eat for free," Hehua said. "I work for this family." "Work!" He glared harder. "What work? Can you do what a son can do? The sooner you're married off, the better. Dabao is sixteen. It's time to look for a wife for him, and who's going to s...
On the Jieshuo grassland there was a lake, and blue flowers grew all along its shore. While he was recovering from his wounds, Liu Chengfeng often sat beside it. This was the far north, at the edge of the great desert. The snow-white peak of Tiangen Mountain lay reflected in the water, glittering under the sun. The lake was like a mirror, or a vast sheet of glazed jade, holding the blue sky and white clouds, and the endless pastures of the Jieshuo people. Long pastoral songs drifted across the grass most days. They came from Jieshuo youths singing before the tents of the girls they loved, beginning at dusk and carrying on into the night. When the new moon rose, bright stars flickered along the horizon. The Big Dipper stood out sharply, and so did the faint ridge of Tiangen Mountain, whose summit stayed heaped with snow even in summer. Every time, he wondered what A-Ying was doing. She must believe he was dead. He felt he had died long ago himself, and that what lived on was only a...