A few days later, Qiu Yang was forging a set of horseshoes in the smithy when Zhou Laosi suddenly ran in.
“Someone's coming from the north,” he said. “Chief Liao wants you mounted.”
Qiu Yang put down her hammer, grabbed the old blade from the back wall, and ran with Zhou Laosi toward the edge of town.
Liao Dazhu was already waiting on the drill ground with seven or eight men gathered beside him.
Without further explanation, he nodded to Qiu Yang and swung into the saddle.
She mounted the gray horse. The party rode out through Pingyuan Town's north gate toward the wasteland.
After four or five li, Liao Dazhu reined in and lifted his chin toward the distance.
Qiu Yang followed his gaze. A small cloud of dust marked the far horizon, moving toward them.
Liao Dazhu said nothing. They waited. As the dust came closer, the shapes of riders became visible.
There were about seven or eight of them, carrying no flags, dressed in ordinary Northern Di clothes.
“Scouts,” Zhou Laosi murmured beside her.
Liao Dazhu ordered neither an attack nor a retreat.
He simply watched from horseback. The riders had seen them too. They slowed and made a circuit in the distance.
Qiu Yang sat with her hand on her blade's hilt without drawing it.
She followed the riders with her eyes. When their circuit was complete, they didn't approach. They turned their horses and rode back.
The dust slowly dispersed. Liao Dazhu turned his horse. “Back to town.”
Nobody spoke on the return journey.
Qiu Yang rode at the rear. Hooves struck the dirt road with dull thuds.
She looked back toward where the riders had vanished. The dust they had raised had already merged with the sky until earth and cloud were impossible to tell apart.
That evening, Liao Dazhu stayed in the barracks longer than usual.
When Qiu Yang entered, he was seated at the table with his own hand-drawn map spread before him.
She sat opposite him. “Were those men testing our strength today?”
“Not testing. Confirming.” Liao Dazhu tapped a spot on the map. “They've been here before. They know we're here. They came today to see if we still are.”
“Then they'll attack next time?”
“Maybe. They might scout once more.” He rolled up the map. “Come with me to First Ravine tomorrow or the day after. We'll look for fresh tracks.”
They left before dawn the next morning.
Sure enough, fresh hoofprints marked the earthen slope at First Ravine. There were twice as many as last time, and they were deeper, as though horses had paced back and forth over the same ground.
Liao Dazhu crouched to examine them for a long while, then stood and brushed the dirt from his hands. “They camped there. A fair number of them.”
Standing beside him, Qiu Yang asked, “Should we add guards on the north side tonight?”
“Yes.”
That night, Qiu Yang put herself on the first watch. After dark, she stood beside the northern earthen wall, facing the wasteland.
There was nothing to see outside. Only wind.
She stood for almost four hours, leaving only when her relief arrived.
On her way back to the smithy, she felt her legs stiffen. She crouched by the road for a while before standing again.
Early the next morning, she went to camp. Liao Dazhu was talking to Zhou Laosi.
As she approached, both fell silent and looked at her.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Nothing,” Liao Dazhu said. “How late were you on watch yesterday?”
“Until the next shift came.”
He nodded and said nothing more.
Qiu Yang glanced at them, asked no further questions, and went to feed the horses.
The next two days passed quietly.
She patrolled the border, forged iron, and practiced with her blade by day. At night, she stood watch.
Toward evening on the third day, as work ended, Old Liao called her over.
He was crouching at the smithy entrance, repairing a wooden bucket. Seeing her return, he set down his hammer. “There was movement in the north last night.”
“What sort?”
“Someone heard hoofbeats just before dawn. They came south a little way, then turned back.” Old Liao bent over the bucket again. “They didn't enter town. But they weren't far off.”
Qiu Yang listened without speaking. Then she crouched to steady the bucket's rim. “Uncle Liao, when do you think they'll come?”
Old Liao didn't look up. “When it's time.”
Qiu Yang crouched at the smithy entrance, looking at the darkening street.
A lantern at the far end swayed in the wind. Its light rocked back and forth across the wall, unsteady as a breathless person searching for somewhere to rest.
She rose and went inside. Drawing the old blade, she wiped it again beneath the lamp, sheathed it, and laid it by the bed. Then she blew out the light and lay down. For a while she kept her eyes open in the darkness, listening to the distant wind press across the roof.
She closed her eyes with one hand resting on the scabbard.
The next morning, she rose to patrol as usual.
They hadn't gone far beyond town when Liao Dazhu abruptly reined in and signaled everyone to stop.
Qiu Yang pulled up and followed his gaze.
A streak of dust stretched along the horizon, broader and thicker than before, moving toward them.
Liao Dazhu didn't turn. His voice was low. “Back to town. Everyone on the wall.”
Qiu Yang wheeled her horse and raced back with the others.
As hooves pounded the dirt road, she thought for the first time how long this stretch was.
The wind chased them from behind, blowing her hair forward. She lowered her head and pressed her legs tight against the gray horse. It ran fast, the dust rising beneath its hooves striking her clothes.
Once inside town, Liao Dazhu dismounted and climbed the earthen wall in a few strides.
Qiu Yang tossed the reins to someone nearby, climbed after him, and crouched at his side.
The dust was drawing closer. She could already make out the shapes of riders, far more than last time.
Liao Dazhu watched from the wall for a while, then turned to her. “Are you afraid?”
Qiu Yang followed his gaze to the approaching dust, resting a hand on the wall's edge. “Yes.”
He turned back. “Good. Fear teaches you how to run.”
Qiu Yang didn't answer.
She drew the old blade from her waist. Its edge flashed in the morning light. Tightening her grip, she crouched on the wall and watched the dust come closer, little by little.