He remembered this strange golden bead: It was actually a centipede. Duan Ling didn’t dare touch it, and was even afraid to look at Wu Du, who barked, “Take it!”
He tossed the bead toward Duan Ling, who had no choice but to brace himself and catch it. If he was bitten, at least Wu Du would hopefully give him the antidote. But the bead didn’t unfurl—instead it remained quietly inert.
“Keep that in your robes.” Wu Du gestured at him. “I’ll go find some water for you. Be right back.”
Wu Du disappeared into the night. At first Duan Ling didn’t dare touch the bead, much less put it in his clothes. He set it on the bench beside him and observed it for some time before remembering the first pill Wu Du had given him. It must’ve contained realgar or some other insect-repelling ingredient that would prevent the golden centipede from biting him. What was Wu Du’s intention in giving him this? Though frightened, Duan Ling did as he was told and tucked the golden bead away in his robes.
Outside, the driver prodded at his pipe and squatted under a tree to smoke. Duan Ling broke apart a flatbread and stepped out of the carriage to give the man half. Before climbing back in, he gestured at him in an attempt to thank him for his service, but as they couldn’t fully communicate, who knew how the man interpreted his wild waving.
A long whistle sounded in the distance. Duan Ling jumped and flicked open the carriage curtains. The rain had stopped, and their surroundings were silent. In the pitch black of the night, only the driver’s pipe glowed, visible with a faint red light. Duan Ling exited the carriage again and peered down the road.
The dark clouds shifted, and the puddles on the road reflected the stars overhead. Duan Ling saw movement in the nearest tree. When he got closer, a pair of glowing eyes glared out at him. He was shocked into a scream, the sound echoing far and wide in the quiet wilderness.
“What’s wrong?!” Wu Du hollered, scared by the sound and taking a great leap back onto the official road.
“Th-there was a bird,” Duan Ling said, pointing at the tree.
It had only been an owl. Wu Du’s brows twitched. He whirled back around and headed to a pond a few steps from the road to draw water. Duan Ling followed at his heels. As the storm clouds dissipated, a fresh breeze blew by. Duan Ling relaxed, his mood lifting considerably.
“Someone’s camped here before,” Duan Ling said. “Look over there. Should we check it out?”
“Why are you so eager to approach strangers?” Wu Du responded. “Not everyone is a kind soul.”
Wu Du stripped off his robes and washed his upper body in the water he’d drawn from the pond. After cleaning himself, he grabbed his cloth sack and trudged back to the carriage wearing just his trousers, Duan Ling keeping pace beside him.
“Are you hungry?” Wu Du asked.
Duan Ling was still clutching his flatbread, so he held the rest up to Wu Du’s lips. As he ate from Duan Ling’s hand, he said around a mouthful, “I’ll take you to eat something better at Tong Pass…”
A horse whinnied in the distance, startling Duan Ling and Wu Du. Something was happening.
“Crap!” cried Wu Du.
They heard the wordless yelling of the driver as, with a rumble, the carriage started moving. Suddenly, the shouting came to a halt. Duan Ling’s instincts, honed by countless near-death experiences, instantly kicked in.
“Run!” he shouted, dragging Wu Du with him to hide among the shoulder-high grasses of the roadside.
“Everything’s still in the carriage!” Wu Du hissed, though he allowed himself to be pulled along without further protest as they snuck through the tall grass.
In the next moment, sharp arrows whistled toward their hiding place. Duan Ling twisted to dodge one that flew too close, and he and Wu Du fled toward the pond.
A man on horseback galloped toward them through the open fields piled with bales of straw. Caught off guard, Duan Ling groped for his dagger—the only weapon he had—and tried to shove it into Wu Du’s hand. Wu Du didn’t spare it a glance as he pushed Duan Ling behind a bale. He covered his own mouth and nose with a wet cloth and scattered fluorescent powder in the air; it flickered like fireflies and dusted itself over the nearby grasses.
More horses poured into the field from all directions, their riders shouting in a foreign tongue. It seemed they’d run into a group of Tanguts—their route had brought them close to Western Liang; after their wrong turn, perhaps they’d ended up right on the border. Mounted bandits were common among the Tanguts, and now they’d become a target.
Hollering, the bandits formed a loose semicircle around the area and drew their bows, arrows pointed toward Wu Du at the center of the field.
Wu Du slowly raised both hands above his head, showing that he was unarmed. To Duan Ling he whispered, “Don’t come out. Hold your breath.”
Duan Ling, hiding behind the straw bale, had no concerns about Wu Du’s abilities, but he desperately wanted to see how Wu Du would make his attack.
The bandits had begun to approach when Wu Du suddenly bent forward. The bandits’ reaction was immediate—but as they sucked in breath to fire their arrows, they cried out in agony, clutching their chests in what appeared to be excruciating pain. Several arrows left their bows lopsided, weak and missing their mark. One of the men shouted a panicked warning, presumably realizing they’d been poisoned, and the scene descended into chaos. Wu Du backflipped onto the straw bale and plucked free the longest piece of straw.
“Don’t come out!” Wu Du called again, afraid Duan Ling would get himself into trouble again, before storming into the bandits like a gale.
The straw flashed between his fingers. With a light flick, blood sprayed from the bandits’ necks. Only then did the men understand how fearsome an opponent they had encountered; they wheeled their horses around, howling in terror. Wu Du held nothing more than a half-foot-long piece of straw, but it struck sharp as a knife. The screaming bandits fled with their hands covering their necks.
Wu Du tossed the straw aside. Duan Ling, his mouth hanging slightly open, immediately noticed something peculiar: The bandits’ weapons were scattered all over the ground, and the horses had run away. The grass was spattered with blood, but…not a single body lay on the ground.
“They all got away?” asked Duan Ling. “But…didn’t you cut their throats?”
“I only scratched them; just deep enough for a good scare. Who would dare keep fighting with blood spurting from their neck? Obviously they’d run.”
Duan Ling was speechless.
They both gazed into the distance. Abruptly, realization hit Wu Du. “Shit! Everything’s still in the carriage!”
Snapping back to reality, Wu Du rushed toward the official road to chase down the fleeing bandits.