The warmth of the sun high in the sky awoke her. Her daughter stirred. Yin Su fed her and held her close, murmuring soft words of reassurance. Then, a noise in the distance. Hoofbeats? A noisy group of merchants on camels with wares piled high were on the road toward Hangu Pass. The animals smelled water and straining against their reins, left the road and headed for the stream. The merchants briefly resisted the beasts, but could not keep them on the road.

Yin Su was between them and their desired destination. She held her child closer. The swaddling cloth still hung on a nearby tree, blowing in a mild breeze. To reach it Yin Su would have to expose herself. Instead, she headed to the stream and began to walk along the edge of the water. The trees and gentle banks of the stream kept her from sight. She moved quickly. The child sensed the tension in Yin Su’s body and was quiet. She could not tell how many people were in the group. More and more were coming off the road and heading to the water. The camels picked up their pace to get a drink. They formed a line along the bank that was following her retreat. She could not reverse course now but had to quicken her pace to stay concealed in the trees and grass.

As she walked along the stream, it started curving away from the road and the merchants guided the camels and horses to stay closer. They bunched up to push each other out of the way to get to the water. The noise of the animals and the shouting men trying to control them masked any noise made by Yin Su. She found a shroud of shelter in a copse of tall bushes and grass. She was camouflaged by the abundance of growing plants and so decided to remain still and wait out the merchants. She dare not sleep.

She counted five men on horses and about twelve camels piled high with bundles. She watched the men dismount from their horses and relieve themselves in the grass.

They grabbed gourds and headed for the stream to fill them with fresh water.

One of the men passed the tree where Yin Su had hung the swaddling cloth. “What’s this?” he shouted to his companions. “Look. Someone has hung a fresh cloth in this tree.” He held it up for all to see. All eyes turned to him. He waved it around in the air like a flag. “Maybe someone else is here. Who would leave cloth hanging in a tree?”

Yin Su froze every muscle. Her eyes grew wide. Had she been discovered? She lowered herself closer to the ground. She dared not move now for fear of discovery.

The other merchants laughed at the one’s antics. “No one is here. It is probably left as a sign for some future passer-by. A message maybe.”

“Well, I will take it with me. It may be just big enough to keep the sun off my brow or to warm my neck in a cold wind,” the new owner proclaimed. “It is now mine.” He wrapped it around his neck with the tiger prominently displayed in front.

The merchants continued to the stream and filled the gourds. The animals all drank and became restless. The lead merchant mounted his horse and urged the camels back onto the road. All others followed suit.

Soon Yin Su was again alone. But without covering for her child. The sling around her body would hold the child but only give minimal warmth. She held her babe close to her body to give as much protection as possible. She still had her knife and could find food but something important had been taken away because of her carelessness. She would not forget.

Yin Su found it difficult to return to sleep. Every noise aroused her suspicion. She sat still as a deer that has seen a hunter, alert to anything that moved. The warm sun rolled across the sky eventually lulling Yin Su into a light slumber. She awoke as the sun lowered into the horizon. Her babe slept near her breast and suckled contentedly.  

When darkness prevailed, Yin Su made her way back to the road. The coolness of night refreshed her and she increased her pace. Her child slept and suckled intermittently throughout the night. She passed a small village and a roadside lodge but did not stop at either. As light began returning Yin Su could see there were no trees about. Tall grass was all she could see in any direction. The sun could be brutal if she could not find shade. She also feared being seen. She could find no indication of water anywhere. If she continued walking, she risked meeting someone. If she tried to find a place in the grass, she risked exposure to too much sun. She decided that exposure would be easier to handle than meeting others.

As Yin Su walked through the tall grass, she tried to disturb as little as possible so her path would not be detected. When she was a good distance from the road, she pushed grass aside to make an area where she and her babe could recline. It was not comfortable. She curled herself in a ball around her child and the exhaustion of walking all night overtook her. She fell asleep.

She awoke to water touching her face. One raindrop. Another. And another until the rain was coming down at a steady clip. There was no way to escape. She cupped her body over her child in an attempt to keep her dry. It was futile. Soon they were both drenched, making her tears undetectable.

What is the measure of an eternity? Who can weigh the sorrows of another? A rational choice one minute can turn into insanity with changing events. Yin Su had not considered what her journey would be like. Or how long it would be. She was unsure how far she was from the capitol. She could not recall the streets that had led her out of the city. Would she even be able to find the Great House where her Mother prepared food?

Yin Su was wet, tired, and miserable. The rain stopped, but the sun did not shine. The sky grew darker as night approached. Yin Su walked through the wet grass back to the road. Under the cover of darkness, she removed her outer garment, held it over her head, and twisted it wringing water into her mouth. The water did not taste good, but it sated her thirst. A breeze arose and promised a warm night.

She had to dry off or both she and her child would get a chill. She wrapped the sleeves of her garment around her neck so that the garment fluttered out behind her as she walked. She held her child loosely and the warm breeze dried her skin. The child suckled as she walked along. After a while the garment was dry and she put it back on, but without the swaddling cloth her child would not be warm. She must replace it.

The moon rose and gave light to her journey. More than she wanted or needed. Off to one side of the road she spied a structure. A lodging house. A place that would offer food and a bed for those with money. However, there might be food scraps. A horse neighed from a small corral. Yin Su ventured closer. The structure was dark, no candle or oil lamp broke the darkness. Moonlight showed her the way. As she drew closer she noticed a small garden. Probably used to prepare meals for guests. She entered and recognized carrots and cabbages growing. She pulled a carrot from a cluster of them. One missing would not be noticed. The cabbages gave their outer leaves easily. One leaf here, one leaf there. No one would suspect anything had been taken.

She nibbled on the fresh food while sitting in the garden and nursing her child. Clouds came and went covering the moon causing the light to brighten and lessen. When the moon was clear for a moment, she searched the courtyard for any laundry that might have been left out to dry, hoping for a cover for her child. She spied something on the other side of the courtyard that could be just what she needed.

She rose from her comfy spot in the garden and walked briskly toward the object. Her movement roused the animals. The horse neighed. Clucks from the chickens were audible. And then she heard a growl. Low and ominous, the growl grew in volume. She froze. The sudden tensing of her muscles caused her child to whimper. The growl became a bark and moonlight revealed a large dog a short distance away.

The dog’s eyes focused intently on Yin Su and in a crouch, it slowly approached her. Its teeth were bared and the growl intensified. Other animals in the area woke up. The horse began stomping the earth, snorting and whinnying. The chickens, fearful even in the best of times, squawked and flew in all directions. Even the pigs, in a remote corner, grunted and squealed and tried to break out of their pens to see what was causing the commotion.

Light suddenly beamed from the house structure. Yin Su turned and ran for the safety of the road. But the dog was faster. It took three easy lopes and was between Yin Su and the road. Movement inside the house. Low voices. A man with a lamp in one hand and a sword in the other stepped into the courtyard and called to the dog. It answered with a yip and stood its ground holding Yin Su captive.

A woman emerged from behind the man and called to the chickens who recognized her voice and returned to their roosts. Likewise, the pigs calmed when she spoke to them. A small boy appeared in the doorway. He opened sleep-filled eyes wide in a curious glance around the area to see what had happened.

Another man emerged from the house and headed towards the horse. Yin Su gasped. Her Husband.

Clouds cleared the moon’s rays as all eyes turned to Yin Su. She cowered and began to sob. Her husband stopped and gave full attention to the person causing the commotion. After a moment, he smiled.

“Well, what have we here?” he said. “This is a bit of luck.” He addressed the innkeeper, “I know this woman. She is my wife. The object of my journey that I told you about.” He continued, addressing no one in particular, “How ironic that I should leave my station to find my run-away wife only to have her deliver herself to me.”

Yin Su’s tears emerged and rolled down her cheeks. Despite her desire to flee, she felt some relief. Her ordeal was over. Not in the way she had wanted, but she no longer would have to fight the elements of nature and be fearful of every noise.

She had tried her best. She had lost. She knew the fate of her child. The gods had forsaken her. Surely, if there were hope for a man-child, it would have been given by now. Five pregnancies. Five females. No one had such bad luck. She could not control the sobs that came from deep within her soul.

The innkeeper lowered his sword and called to the dog who bounded to his side, tail wagging. It had done its duty to alert its owner to intruders. The woman surveyed the scene with sad eyes. She had heard the Gatekeeper’s story and knew what would come to be. The young boy allowed himself to be encircled in his mother’s arms unaware of the magnitude of the drama before him. The innkeeper’s family returned to the interior of the house. Yin Su and her husband remained in the courtyard.

Yin Su curled into a fetal position on the ground, her child surrounded by her body. Clouds thickened, obscuring moonlight. Her husband walked to her and put a hand on her shoulder. Yin Su found both comfort and revulsion in her husband’s touch. She looked up at him, trying to find forgiveness in his face. She found only a stoic stare.

He held out his hand to help her up and led her into the house and to the room where he had been sleeping. Yin Su placed her child next to her. She did not sleep much the rest of that night. Her mind wandered wildly trying to guess what would happen the next day.

>>>>><<<<< 

They awoke early with the crow of the cock. The innkeeper’s wife prepared a tasteless gruel to fill their bellies for the journey. Yin Su realized anew how well she could cook. She smiled to herself knowing that her Husband would have complained if she had served something like this. To the innkeeper’s wife, he offered praise for a hearty meal. Yin Su said nothing.

As they were preparing to leave, her Husband gave Yin Su the cloth that had swaddled the baby. She recognized the small tiger she had embroidered. So, the merchants had reached the gate and had somehow displayed the cloth which her Husband recognized immediately. Was this horse one she had seen when hiding in the grass? Probably. She had been careless and the gods had used that carelessness to thwart her intent. She did not comment as she wrapped the child and held her close. 

The horse in the small corral was one her Husband had borrowed from a merchant newly arrived at the gate to travel west. He had promised to look the other way concerning exit taxes if the merchant granted him this favor. The horse was young and lively. Her Husband had a rough time keeping the horse at such a slow pace so that Yin Su could walk along beside it carrying her child.

She looked to the left and right as they walked along. The terrain and structures appeared beautiful in the sunlight. During her walk at night darkness and shadows had created a terrifying landscape full of demons and betrayal. Her nightly walk must have been slower than she originally thought. Without stopping for food or rest, they arrived back at Hangu Pass late that day. Yin Su recognized the field where she had slept in the rain. She recognized the stream and line of trees where she had carelessly left the swaddling cloth to dry. If only she could go back in time and do it all again with the knowledge of what she had done the first time. It would be quite different. But the gods do not allow mortals to go back in time.

Few words were spoken during the journey and none at all when, upon reaching her community, her husband veered from the road and headed to a group of merchants camped near the newly repaired wooden doors of the pass. Yin Su simply walked in the opposite direction toward her home. She did notice that the merchant camp bore camels and horses and loud men. The same ones she had seen from her hiding place in the tall grass.

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