Chapter 1047

This is the border between the Oirats and the Nogai Khanate, and also where the Oirats station their troops.

Great Ming has little contact with this place; lands to the west belong to the Nogai Khanate, and somewhat farther north lies the Siberian Khanate—only occasional merchant caravans travel between them, with virtually no political exchange.

The Ministry of War having spies here was purely accidental.

During the Yongle reign, the Emperor constantly sought to eliminate northern barbarian raids, so he launched multiple military campaigns against the northern tribes.

At the time, the Ministry of War dispatched many spies into the grasslands; one unit disguised themselves as a merchant caravan and roamed across the steppes.

After years of hardship, they endured sandstorms and were caught in tribal wars; eventually, they stumbled here by accident.

Tie Lianggueti is too far from Great Ming; they sent three batches of messengers back before finally reestablishing contact with the Ministry of War.

The survivors are now elderly and will never return home in this lifetime.

So they married, had children, took on disciples, and trained a new generation of scouts.

They have maintained intermittent contact with the Ministry of War, occasionally passing along intelligence about the Oirats, while the Ministry of War tries to send them money and supplies.

In truth, both sides know that thousands of mountains and rivers lie between them; their intelligence holds no value for Great Ming, and the cost of transmission is too high.

But one side cannot return, and the other wishes to leave the people a thread of hope—so they have silently maintained this unspoken understanding.

Yu Qian gave her the address and list eight years ago.

That means the last contact between the two sides was eight years ago.

Pan Yun and the three Seeing Miao Zhen appeared on the desolate Gobi Desert, gazing at the distant city as the sun on the horizon turned orange-red, painting the sky in hues of color.

Seeing Miao Zhen glanced back at the path they'd come and couldn't help saying, "If not for Little Master Shu, we might never have reached this place in our lives."

Pan Yun: "Not necessarily—if you have perseverance, with your abilities, anything is possible. Think of Tang Sanzang—he walked all the way to the Western Heavens alone."

The distance between Tie Lianggueti and Chang'an is roughly the same as that between ancient India and Chang'an.

"Still, you're right—it's hard for caravans to reach here. It'd be better if transportation were more developed."

Pan Yun wanted to build railways and steam locomotives.

I wonder how the Ministry of Works' research is going—I should ask about it later.

Pan Yun led the three toward the city gate, where they were stopped at the entrance.

The soldiers, seeing their faces and clothing, demanded travel permits and customs documents.

An Chen had prepared them in advance; the Northern Garrison Command was still reliable on this point—their travel permits and customs documents were flawless.

Precisely because they were flawless, the four were arrested.

The soldiers escorting them back to the camp complained in tribal dialect to their comrades: "They actually have official seals on every stamp—this reeks of fraud."

During his personal campaign, Pan Yun learned the languages of the various Oirat tribes; though not fluent, she could understand them.

She understood—and fell silent, then asked in Oirat: "Is it wrong to have official seals?"

The soldier shoved her hard and barked: "You dare to lie after forging customs documents? Our Oirat tribes each have their own checkpoints, and we're at war now—how did you pass through three checkpoints in three months?"

Pan Yun: "Where's the war? I came all the way here in perfect peace—I saw no fighting at all!"

Her righteous tone and confident expression left the two escorting soldiers momentarily confused: "No war on the road?"

"None!" Pan Yun declared firmly. "We traveled westward in perfect safety—we didn't even see bandits, let alone warfare."

"That's impossible. Dayan Khan and the Tatar tribes have rebelled against the Khan. Every merchant caravan coming this way says there's war—how could you have missed it?"

Pan Yun: "Maybe because we didn't carry goods?"

The two soldiers suddenly realized something far more suspicious—they immediately drew their blades across their necks and demanded: "You're not merchants. Who are you? What are you doing here?"

Pan Yun: "We're here to find family and to study abroad."

Soldier A: "Find family?"

Soldier B: "Study abroad?"

Pan Yun cautiously pointed to her sleeve: "I have a piece of paper in my sleeve—may I take it out?"

Soldier A moved his blade aside and let her reach in.

Pan Yun immediately pulled out a slip of paper bearing an address and a name.

Pan Yun then began telling them a story, holding the paper.

A fantastical story.

Their great-uncle had loved traveling since childhood; after coming of age, he joined a merchant caravan and vanished—until eight years ago, when his family received a letter from him, revealing he'd been living beyond the frontier all this time.

"He traveled with the caravan all the way here, captivated by the scenery, and with no money to return, he decided to settle here."

Soldier A shouted to the soldiers gathering around: "No money to go home—so he stayed and married and had children."

Pan Yun pretended not to hear, her expression tender: "Though my great-uncle could not return home, his longing for his homeland never ceased—he sent letters home through passing caravans, until eight years ago, when his family finally received his letter."

"My grandfather—oh, the brother who wrote the letter—never stopped missing his younger brother. Even on his deathbed, he couldn't rest. We four were raised at our grandfather's knee, and from childhood, we vowed to find our great-uncle, deliver our grandfather's longing, and bring him the soil our grandfather dug from our homeland."

Tao Yan Bai immediately said: "The homeland soil is in the backpack you confiscated."

That was the large backpack they'd deliberately taken out before entering the city—besides the homeland soil, it contained several bolts of cloth as disguise.

But when they entered the city, all their customs documents were seized.

Soon, a soldier carried over a jar of soil: "Checked—it's really soil."

Soldier B waved his blade and asked: "And what about this 'study abroad'?"

Pan Yun replied: "In Great Ming, we have a Daoist academy called the Xuegong. All four of us are disciples of the Xuegong. Since we've reached the proper age, we must travel abroad to study—we chose this place."

Pan Yun said: "We can find family and fulfill our Xuegong's requirement at once—why not? We've had a smooth journey so far, but we never expected to be arrested upon arrival. Brothers, please show mercy—we must find our great-uncle and deliver our grandfather's letter and homeland soil. Otherwise, our grandfather cannot rest in peace~~"

Pan Yun wiped her tears.

Seeing Miao Zhen also wiped her tears: "Our great-uncle can't rest either~~"

Mei He covered her face: "Our fate is so cruel~~"

Tao Yan Bai: "Everything in the backpack except this jar of soil is yours—please spare us, brothers. We only want to find someone."

"Without money, you won't survive here."

"As long as we find my great-uncle, it'll be fine," Pan Yun said. "Even if my great-uncle has no money, he wouldn't let us starve to death, would he?"

What's impossible about that?

Haven't there been plenty of people who starved to death in this city?

The soldiers conferred briefly, decided their story sounded genuine and not fabricated. They likely were simply lucky and carried no goods, which is why they hadn't encountered the rampaging troops. After a short discussion, they let all four go.

In the end, the four walked out of the military tent with nothing but a jar of hometown soil.

Standing on the bumpy, dusty road, the four exchanged glances and exhaled in relief.

This city's houses were mostly built of stone and mud.

The houses were square but low, with tiny doors and small windows, yet carved with strange animal patterns on top.

Everything here was dull gray and earthy yellow, so brightly colored cloth was highly popular.

The cloth in Pan Yun's basket wasn't valuable, but its bright colors caught the soldiers' eyes the moment they opened it. Since they had no patrons and their travel documents had clear irregularities, the cloth was confiscated.

When leaving the military tent, Pan Yun didn't hesitate—she directly asked the soldiers how to reach the address on the paper.

This city was small—smaller than a single Jiangnan village—so she knew that four unfamiliar faces would draw attention no matter whose door they knocked on. If that was inevitable, there was no point hiding; better to show themselves openly.

Sometimes, the more open you are, the more others assume you have nothing to hide.

The soldiers had just seized all the family's belongings, hadn't even put down the basket, so they couldn't very well refuse to answer.

Besides, they'd never met anyone as bold as Pan Yun—someone who, after being released, dared to directly ask them for directions.

So the soldiers gave them detailed directions.

Before nightfall, the four found a low, narrow house.

Pan Yun knocked. The door flew open with a bang. A man with a full beard and a fierce expression demanded: "Who are you looking for?"

Pan Yun quickly asked: "Does Zhao Shizhu live here?"

"Don't know him. Doesn't live here!"

He moved to slam the door shut, but Pan Yun thrust out her hand to block it—the door slammed against her palm with a loud bang.

The bearded man narrowed his eyes. Seeing her arm didn't tremble and her expression unchanged, he tightened his stance, fixing his gaze on her: "What do you want?"

Pan Yun smiled sweetly: "Brother, we're here to find family. He definitely lived here years ago—think again. Zhao Shizhu, a Han man. Where is he now?"

A woman in an apron appeared cautiously behind the man, whispering: "Are you looking for Uncle Zhao?"

Pan Yun immediately pushed open the half-closed door and stepped inside. The bearded man's pupils contracted—he reached to stop her, but she effortlessly shoved him aside.

Though it seemed like a light push, he staggered back three steps and crashed against the wall behind him, his arm going numb.

Pan Yun acted as if she hadn't noticed, stepping forward with a warm smile to ask the woman: "Uncle Zhao? Do you know him?"

The woman glanced quickly at the bearded man, then nodded: "Six years ago, he sold us this house and moved away."

"Where did he move to?"

The woman hesitated, saying nothing, her eyes turning to the bearded man.

Pan Yun turned her head too, thought for a moment, then stepped forward and gently took the bearded man's arm, beaming: "Brother, you should've said you knew my great-uncle! We're family—all family."

"Who's family with you?" the bearded man snapped, but his arm still throbbed with numbness. Frightened, he yielded: "He lives at the end of this street—in a wooden house. You'll see it when you reach the very back."

Pan Yun looked at the woman.

The woman nodded vigorously.

Only then did Pan Yun release her and step out with Seeing Miao Zhen and the others.

The moment they stepped out, the door slammed shut with a bang, and muffled curses came from inside.

Seeing Miao Zhen was furious and stepped forward, but Pan Yun held her back: "Unless we can give her a better future, we can't interfere."

Seeing Miao Zhen: "She's injured. He beats her."

"We'll find a way to compensate her another day," Pan Yun said. "He won't beat her tonight. And he won't beat her for this after tonight either."

Seeing Miao Zhen frowned.

Miao He said: "Little Master Auntie sealed the acupoints on his hands. Any time he raises his arm, it'll pierce with pain—he can't move it."

Tao Yan Bai: "A man who beats women—hmm. Will she leave him?"

"Hardly," Pan Yun said. "Didn't you notice? Winter here is bitterly cold. Every house we passed had a man inside. If she lacks sufficient strength, she can't survive the winter alone."

Seeing Miao Zhen lowered her gaze, thought for a moment, then said: "This is their wisdom for survival—not necessarily weakness."

Pan Yun nodded. This wasn't the era she came from, where women could survive without men—if they worked hard, they could even thrive.

From the city guards, they learned the rules here were lax. A woman lacking strength and intelligence couldn't hold onto a house or survive here.

When the four reached the end of the street and saw the thatched shed exposed to the biting wind, they were even more certain.

It was a shed barely taller than a person—the door reached only to Pan Yun's head. Layers of dried straw covered the roof, and cold wind howled through the wooden gaps. Had it not been for the uneven breathing inside, Pan Yun would have thought no one lived there.

The four felt a pang of pity. Tao Yan Bai hurried forward and knocked.

The breathing inside stopped. No one answered.

Tao Yan Bai knocked again—suddenly, a furious shout and the sound of things being thrown erupted from within.

It was a foul curse in the Wala language: "Thief! Bandit!"

Tao Yan Bai froze, turned back to look at Little Master Auntie.

Pan Yun stepped forward and called through the door: "Elder, I am Pan Yun of Mount Sanqing. I've come to pay my respects."

Silence inside.

After a moment, rustling sounds emerged, then the shaky wooden door was yanked open. A head of gray, disheveled hair emerged, two bloodshot eyes fixed tightly on the four before it.

Without speaking, the old man knew from their clothing they were from Great Ming.

Without a word, tears rolled down his face. He nearly wept uncontrollably.

A withered hand shoved him aside. Another head, whiter and more wrinkled, emerged—clouded eyes fixed on the four. After a long pause, the old woman stammered in broken Han: "Who are you?"

Pan Yun looked at the two and said: "I am here by order of Minister Yu of the Ministry of War."

The familiar dialect took the two a long moment to process.

The two stepped aside to let the four enter; an old man struck a fire-stick, lit the stove, and pushed it closer to them before studying the four by its flame.

The four, in turn, curiously examined the thatched hut, no more than ten square paces in size.