Chengli and the Silk Road Caravan by Hildi Kang

Author:Hildi Kang
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tanglewood

nine

THE NIGHTS REPEATED THEMSELVES OVER AND OVER. During the day, the searing heat of summer burned into Chengli’s sleep, leaving him fretful and sullen. During the night, the mind-numbing sameness of the work drove away all thoughts of his father, even his friends, and left only the emptiness of keeping his animals in line. They walked along in the darkness, with moonlight flickering strange shadows across the dunes and the soft night breeze sending endless layers of sand whistling softly into ever-changing shapes.

And so the weeks dragged on, each exactly like the one before, until finally a day came when sunlight shimmered across the brown desert and bounced off a jagged line of white on the horizon.

“Tian Shan, the Heavenly Mountains,” Master Fong sang out with unusual excitement, pointing to the thin line of white. “Praise be to all the mountain spirits! The mountains reach up into the heavens, and the heavenly spirits pack them with snow . . . snow . . . snow! Snow melts to water. Water fills the rivers. Praise to the spirits! Soon we will eat juicy, sweet, delicious grapes, melons, and pears!” Master’s voice rose with his excitement, and with both arms outstretched, he pointed toward the life-giving snow.

Uncle Tao called out, “We will turn west now to follow along the foot of these mountains. They will be there, on our right, guiding us all the way. Another month to Kucha . . . more than a month beyond that to Kashgar. Always, the mountains will be there alongside of us.”

Bori came up beside Chengli. “The town of Turpan has been known since ancient times for its grapes and,” he sighed and his voice sank, “its heat.”

“Master Fong was right,” complained Dakshesh to Chengli after they’d arrived at Turpan and received permission to explore the town. He wiped the sweat off his face with the back of his hand and followed Chengli through the tile-roofed gate with its heavy wooden doors and down one stifling lane and up another. The brown mud-brick buildings looked like those in every other town and village they had visited along the route. The same square houses with fronts open to the street had vendors hovering in the doorways calling out to the passersby to stop and buy. Dry puffs of dust rose with each footfall.

“Look here!” Chengli called as they picked their way through the jostling crowd and turned a corner. A trellis covered with grapevines arched completely over the road, blocking the heat of the sun and filling the air with deep shade and the sweet smell of ripening grapes.

“And look over there!” Dakshesh pointed. “That must be something important, because soldiers are guarding a very official-looking gate. That design carved into the wood of the gate, the vines and lotus blossoms, must mean some official or magistrate! They might know about your father.” He crossed over to the pair of guards, who quickly lowered their three-pronged spears into an X to block the entry.

“We just want to ask a question,” Dakshesh called, keeping out of their reach.

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