— A-Sha, raise your elbow.
Chestnut-dark curls swayed softly at her temple as the girl in warrior garb lifted her arm in obedience to her father's command. The bulk of her hair was tightly pulled up into a severe topknot—boyish and practical, like a soldier's. Only the loose strands at the sides framed her face gently, reminding one of her true, feminine nature.
The leather bracer had darkened from dust and sweat—traces of long hours under the scorching sun of the training yard. The hour of mao[1] was nearly over. Yet the embroidered tiger, jaws gaping in a silent roar, still reminded her of her duty to her family. The girl's fingers clenched tighter around the bowstring, and the bow creaked as it bent another couple of cun[2] — almost to the limit.
Thud.
The arrow struck the old wooden shield hung on the fortress's red wall, just one and a half cun from the center.
— Are you aiming at the target or the fortress? — came a loud, mocking voice from the nearby garrison commander.
A warm palm, the color of sun-heated sand, landed with a resonant slap on the shoulder cloaked in a waist-length cotton jacket.
This was Nanfeng Le.[3] Under his command stood Jianbibao—Fortress of the Unyielding Wall, the last guard post at the edge of Ba-Shu[4], in the Panzhi[5] region.
The fortress clung to the arid cliffs like a tiger to its prey. No grass, no shade. Only the searing wind from the south and a forgotten road.
The North knew it as "the nearly foreign edge," while the South called it "the wall that does not fall."
So too was Nanfeng Le. Broad cheekbones, angular jaw, stubble—a face marked by harsh life. His broad shoulders, short stature, and a stance straight as carved wood made him the fortress's beating heart—unyielding as stone.
— Hey, Shan, raise your shield! Even a drunk donkey stands straighter! — he barked, glancing at the soldiers frozen in the "Golden Rooster Standing on One Leg" pose. — You look more like chicks than roosters.
— De, I'm tired, — grumbled Nanfeng Le's only daughter, Nanfeng Shalei[6].
Her name spoke of the golden tone of her skin and the native land where she had nearly reached "the age of the hairpin."[7] But her round cheeks and almond-shaped, deep-black eyes still carried the spicy softness of childhood—as though cardamom [8]hid in their depths.
A dark crimson sash distinguished her from the soldier boys.
A golden tiger, driven by southern winds, ran across the blood-colored fabric, while a white-green jade buckle, like a spring dawn, gleamed like milk in the sun.
Tied in a crisscross at the front, the sash held a quiver neatly fastened to her back—the very one her mother had embroidered with her slender fingers. Every stitch echoed one thing: she was the daughter of a fourth-rank general from the Nanfeng clan.
"The Southern Wind Shall Not Cease"—engraved on the reverse of the jade buckle.
It whispered in the hearts of everyone living in the garrison.
Stomping with her short leather boot, Shalei glared fiercely at the target from beneath thick brows that cast a shadow like her father's.
— Well now, you mischievous girl, don't make a fuss, — General Nanfeng chuckled, gently shaking her shoulders. — Tired?
She only nodded in response. He gently turned her around, raising a light cloud of dust at her feet, immediately swept away by the wind born of soldiers' shouts during training.
The general's stern face softened, a flicker of care in his eyes, though his voice remained firm:
— You must not fear missing. But you must fear that the one you miss hits you instead.
The chestnut head nodded again. A smile spread across the tanned, stubbled face, and his eyes disappeared into a fine web of wrinkles. The southern sun played in those folds, gleaming like mercury and whispering of the coming chen hour.
— Xiao Sha, enough playing with the bow. Come help with the herbs, — came the soft voice of her mother from behind the doors of the garrison commander's house.
On the sleeves of her earthen-toned everyday dress, fastened at the side, bloomed camellia petals. With every step, a golden embroidered wave flowed along the hem—like an echo of the boundless sea in this scorched wasteland.
Dropping the bow, Shalei shed the guise of a stern teenager and turned into a little girl running to her mother. She ran to the door and buried herself in the linen cloth with her whole body, inhaling the familiar scent of wormwood, mint, and something ineffably homely—something that had stayed with her since her first day of life.
— A-nyang!
The general only scratched the back of his head and, unable to suppress his laughter, shouted into the house:
— In the field—a tigress, in her mother's arms—a kitten.
Laughter rolled across the central ground, where soldiers stood in the "Door-Covering Stance," but it immediately ceased under Nanfeng Le's stern gaze.
Only one young soldier continued to chuckle until the hilt of a spear met the back of his head.
— You'll stand like that until the end of the shen hour if you don't get serious! — barked the commander. — Stance: Throat Behind Shield!
Despite his short stature, he quickly returned to the plateau, leaving his daughter with her mother.
Liu Yue[9] was a gentle woman, with a heart that melted at a glance from her daughter's almond eyes and subtle smile.
Her eldest son had long since left home, chasing greatness to elevate the House of the Tiger and earn the Dragon's favor.
And in this scorching desert, only one flower remained for her seven earthly souls and three heavenly ones—Xiao Sha.
The girl had a phenomenal memory for faces, herbs, books, everything she read—as if Heaven itself had planted memory within her. But martial arts and the four literary skills still remained distant peaks for her.
Perhaps she'd have been better off with the Liu family in Chengdu—the fragrant heart of Ba-Shu. Or alongside her brother, in the Imperial Capital, Chang'an.
But her husband, though worried about political threats, did not fear the mountain barbarians from Nanzhao, living south of Jinbibao.
Liu Yue had never seen them herself, but she had heard the stories from wounded soldiers she had tended to after skirmishes. Not people—beasts.
Covered in black paint, with horns on their heads and fangs sewn onto their cloaks, they moved like a pack. Their language didn't sound human—more a howling, like wolves.
Yet all pleas to send their precious girl to safety were in vain.
The Fortress of the Unyielding Wall had stood since the Sui dynasty[10], and it would stand through the Tang[11]. So thought the general. So believed the 1,200 warriors serving under his banner.
The thick walls of fired clay would admit no barbarian onto Han soil.
On her mother's ink-black hair, tied in a tight bun, jingled a jade pendant affixed to the end of a wooden hairpin.
She was the daughter of a healer and never wore ornate gold or pearl ornaments. Only jade. A butterfly carved from stone hung at her waist—a wedding gift from a loving husband.
The wind carries one joy, the moon guards a long night, read the inscription on its wings.
— Do you want to wipe your dirty face on clean fabric? You little rascal, — the mother muttered gently, pulling the dusty headband off her daughter's head.
Dirty, damp hair fell onto Shalei's forehead, but she only smiled broadly, flashing straight white teeth.
— Still just a little girl, — whispered Liu Yue, gently brushing aside the sticky bangs and kissing her daughter's forehead. — Soon you'll have a little brother or sister, and you'll have to grow up.
With fingers light as chopsticks, she traced the curve of her belly—a small roundness no bigger than a stocky warrior's fist.
It was new blood. A young tiger cub.
Shalei rose on tiptoes, kissed her mother's cheek, then knelt and pressed her lips to the belly. Such tenderness she could rarely show, especially in her traditional garb.
After washing and changing, the young lady of Nanfeng helped her mother with herbs in the left wing of the commander's house until the hour of xu.[12]
The house was situated at the rear of the fort, its doors facing south, in accordance with fengshui[13]—a Linnyang tradition inherited through proximity to the province.
Though built of wood and tamped earth, the interior smelled of heat and dust, as if no walls or roof existed. The doors to the inner courtyard stood wide open to let the air flow freely.
But there was no cool pond like in the more northern regions. Only a few dwarf trees and jasmine blooming defiantly in the heat.
In the left wing, meant for the women of the house, Shalei's small room was filled with various household items that made it feel warm and homey.
A mat with silk pillows embroidered with clouds. Several lacquered trunks. And her first embroidery with her mother—a fledgling spreading its wings for the first time in the sky.
A light scent of incense, tied with twine to the doorpost, filled the room. Her mother's favorite remedy for the stuffiness.
Nearby jingled the pendant "Southern Wind," as if echoing the movement of its namesake.
The windows were slightly open, and the paper inserts in the frames had swelled a bit from the night's humidity.
The cross-breeze drifting in from the yard barely stirred the cloth strips hanging above the doorway. Shalei slept in a light shirt, thin and nearly transparent in the moonlight. Chestnut hair spread over the pillow, and in her hands still rested the unfinished embroidery.
The servants didn't dare remove it from the little mistress's hands, but they quietly extinguished the candles and withdrew into the dark.
It was the last peaceful minor hour in Jinbibao.
The chou hour[14] struck.
The first day of summer—Lixia[15]—had come.
[1] Mao hour — traditional Chinese time corresponding to the period from 5 to 7 a.m.
[2] Cun — an ancient Chinese unit of length, approximately equal to 3.3 cm.
[3] The name Nanfeng Le (南风乐) can be translated as "Blazing Southern Wind".
[4] Ba-Shu — the historical name of a region covering present-day Sichuan Province and parts of Chongqing.
[5] Panzhi — a shortened reference to the city of Panzhihua, located in the southwest of Sichuan Province, near the border with Yunnan.
[6] Nanfeng Shalei (南风沙垒) can be translated as "Sandy Fortress of the Southern Wind".
[7] In traditional Chinese culture, the “hairpin age” refers to the coming of age for a girl, usually at 15. It was marked by the “hair-tying ceremony,” symbolized by placing the first hairpin (笄), representing the transition into adulthood. After the ceremony, a girl was considered mature, could wear a married woman’s hairstyle, and in some cases, marry.
[8] “Cardamom age” — a poetic expression referring to early girlhood, typically around 13–14 years old.
[9] The name Liu Yue (流月) can be interpreted as “flowing moon,” “drifting moon,” or “moon gliding through the night.”
[10] The Sui Empire — a Chinese dynasty that ruled from 581 to 618 AD.
[11] The Tang Empire — one of the most powerful and renowned dynasties in Chinese history, ruling from 618 to 907 AD.
[12] The xu hour — corresponds to the time interval from 7:00 p.m. to 9:00 p.m. in modern timekeeping.
[13] Fengshui — the traditional Chinese philosophy of arranging space in harmony with natural forces, literally “wind and water.” Used to attract luck, health, and well-being
[14] The chou hour — according to traditional Chinese timekeeping, corresponds to the period from 1:00 a.m. to 3:00 a.m.
[15] Lixia — “Beginning of Summer” — is the seventh solar term in the Chinese calendar. It usually falls on May 5–7 and marks the official start of summer