“You cut your hair.”

“Pema!”

The Tibetan girl who had been his traveling companion across the plateau stood over him now. Her hair, with its many small braids, swayed in the breeze and filtered the sunlight as he looked up. Pengfei stood and took the sight of her in, her dark woolen clothes characteristic of the nomadic herdsman of the region.

When she did not disappear, Pengfei realized he was not dreaming and stood to embrace the very real young woman.

“What are you doing here?!” He squeezed her tight, forgetting any sense of propriety.

“You smell like goat shit. It doesn’t suit you.”

Pema hugged him back briefly then pushed him away.

“Sorry, I spent the night in the barn.” he chuckled.

Pengfei heard calls from all around. Upstream, he could see a dozen men and women mounted on horseback, guiding a mixed herd of animals. Pema’s family members were working hard to keep their beasts separate from Kunlun’s. Some drove wagons packed to the brim with their belongings.

“We’re crossing into Xinjiang for the rest of the year.” Pema explained. “We’ll sell some of our herd when winter comes, then come south in the spring with horses.”

Pengfei, who was still amazed at Pema’s presence, said, “I thought I would never see you again.”

“I know. When I left, you were still… well, the physician said you would be fine. But I insisted my family come this way so I could get some news.”

The two stood there smiling at each other but soon the weight of the ones who had not survived dampened the mood.

Pema cut the tension with a command. “Go get a pot, fill it with water. I’ll make you something to eat.”

“I don’t know where it –“

“There’s got to be one in your barn somewhere. You don’t have servants to fetch everything for you now, young lord.”

Bits of Pengfei’s past had inevitably come out on the journey through Tibet. Pema did not know the whole story but she knew enough to see where his privileged upbringing poked through his facade, and she invariably pounced on it.

She climbed onto her horse and circled around Pengfei as he walked back toward the barn to find the cookware. She hummed the same familiar tune that had accompanied them across the Tibetan plateau and steered her horse to purposefully bump into Pengfei. It was a game she had played with him and Feng throughout their journey. Whenever she found her companions on foot.

“You’re still a bully, I see.” he playfully complained.

“You make it so easy.”

She guided her mount through an improbable circling gait to bring its behind colliding with Pengfei’s shoulder. A silly but impressive feat of horsemanship.

“Keep your horse’s ass out of my face!”

“Keep your face out of my horse’s ass!”

When their laughter died away, Pengfei turned his attention to their surroundings, genuinely curious about the people moving around the valley.

“So, this is your family? I should greet your father and give him my thanks for your help.”

“Don’t bother, he wouldn’t understand you anyway. That’s him.”

Pema pointed out a middle-aged man on horseback who seemed to be managing the migration of the clan. Pengfei bowed when their eyes met and the man gave a gruff nod before shouting to another rider about something or other. The Tibetan girl pointed out brothers and sisters and even some of their problematic livestock on the walk back.

Reaching the structure at the end of the valley, Pengfei pointed out Ma Feng’s horse grazing nearby. “Look who I found. She bit the shit out of me yesterday and I still haven’t found her saddle.”

Pema recognized the horse immediately and said to Pengfei regarding the saddle, “We left it on the ground when we were running from those killers. Don’t you remember?”

“No, I guess I forgot. A lot of it blurs together.”

Pema left him there and trotted off to the carts to fetch something. Pengfei ducked inside and darted up the ladder to the second-floor landing. He rummaged through the cluttered sacks of items in the dim light that made it to the barn’s interior and eventually found an iron pot.

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Out at the river, he balanced on a smooth rock and dipped the pot into the water. He stood, with it sloshing onto his boots, until Pema came galloping a second later, splashing him with icy water.

“Shhhit that’s cold!” he yelled, dropping the pot in surprise.

He was still mumbling curses when he joined Pema back at the barn. She was hard at work with the beginnings of a meal.

“Thank goodness. I’m starving for some real food. But I don’t think we’ll be able to find any firewood.”

Pema just laughed. She walked around the pasture and gathered up chunks of material she found on the ground then stacked them together and lit them using a flint and some grass.

“What is that? It burns so well.”

“Dried yak dung.”

“Dried…? Right.”

They ate while the Tibetan nomads made their way down the valley around them. Pema asked about his life in Kunlun, the everyday details of his new home. The last of Pema’s clan were disappearing around the distant bend by the time they finished their meal and the girl had still not finished her questioning. While they were chatting, Feng’s horse came and rested its head over Pema’s shoulder.

“No, this is my food.” Pema pushed animal’s inquisitive face away from her bowl but rubbed its cheek kindly at the same time. “Have you named her yet?”

“She’s not mine to name, she’s Feng’s horse.”

“Feng isn’t using her anymore. She’s yours.”

“Tell her that.”

“She’s been through a lot. She lost Feng too, just like us.”

Pengfei nodded his head in acceptance, “Yeah, I guess that’s true.”, then stared off into space.

Pema left him to his reverie for a few minutes before addressing the cause.

“Did you mourn him properly?”

“Not really. By the time I recovered from the poison the elders had already… seen to him. No one else knew him. There was no one to talk to.”

“Then let’s mourn them now. Feng and Zihao.”

Pema took a long drink from a water skin and handed it to Pengfei. He took a sip, winced and coughed, discovering it was not water but some sort of alcohol. She smirked at his reaction but he ignored her and raised the skin to toast the memory of their lost friends.

“To the Qingcheng swordsmen.”

They shared memories of the time they had spent with their guardians. Zihao, the easygoing senior and mentor to the braggadocious Feng. The remembrances were warm and cheerful with just a touch of melancholy. But Pema and Pengfei buoyed each other up and kept their tears at bay.

Eventually, a horn trumpeted from down the valley in the direction of Pema’s clan. She capped her drinking skin placed it back in a saddle bag.

“Time to go. Do you want anything from the city? I can leave it here for you when we come back through, but it might not be until late spring.”

“Better late than never. Some booze would earn me some good will with the other disciples. I still have some gold, I can pay for it.”

Pema chuckled and nodded her head. “Sure. In the meantime, take this.” She unbuckled the saddle from her own horse and slid it down to the ground along with the blanket underneath, then took the bit and bridle from the animal’s head.

“Pema, that’s too much –“

She held up her hand to stifle his objections. “It’s for her sake, not yours. Besides, I have a spare in one of the carts.”

“Alright.”

Pema hopped up on her horse’s back and started riding away without another word. Her braids bounced on her back just the way Pengfei had seen so many times before.

“I’ll miss you Pema!”

She waved back over her shoulder without turning. “I know!”

He watched her trot off.

--What are the odds?--

Pengfei found the entire encounter surreal. Pema coincidentally crossing through the valley when he just happened to be there. Threads of fate, karma… he didn’t usually go in for that sort of thing. Whatever had brought about the encounter, it was just what he needed. It gave him a sense of resolution he had been craving. A simple but cathartic sendoff for Zihao and Feng, and a hope to see Pema again.

After a few moments he looked to the saddle and then to Feng’s, no, his mare.

“Would you want to…?”

The horse turned and clomped away.

“No, I didn’t think so.”

******************************************************************************

Pengfei had stowed the saddle in the barn and spent an hour or so on small chores. When next he looked up, he saw a yak-drawn cart coming down the valley from the south with someone walking next to it. At first, Pengfei thought it was a straggler of the Tibetan clan and planned to walk out to meet them.

When they got a bit closer Pengfei recognized the person’s grey robes as those of a Kunlun disciple, come to bring back the sect’s cart and help tend the herd. And soon the newcomer was close enough to be recognized.

“Hey there, shithead.”

Jin Nanxi smirked from beside the cart.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

Nanxi hopped up into the cart for a better view and looked into the distance. A distinct trail had been left in the valley by the passage of the Tibetans and there was still a haze of dust in the distant end of the valley, kicked up by hooves.

“Who was that?”

“Tibetan herders passing through.” Pengfei answered coldly.

“Any pretty girls?”

“Yes.” Pengfei turned and walked off on his self-assigned rounds. The truest sense of calm he had obtained since waking up in Kunlun’s Medicine Hall was shattered with Nanxi’s arrival.

--I was trying to get away from this bastard and he follows me to the middle of nowhere.--

Aimless, he found himself crossing the stream and heading to the western side of the valley where another contingent of yaks and sheep were grazing. Pengfei circled to the far side of the animals before deciding to practice his martial arts. An attempt to burn off his nervous energy. He unfolded the forms of the Heaven Shaking Fist with more vigor than normal.

“Hap!”

“Hup!”

With each movement and strike Pengfei envisioned Jin Nanxi as his opponent.

--Is he going to try to fight me when I get back to the barn? There’s no one here to stop him.--

Pengfei spent the next few hours practicing but evening came and he could no longer delay his return. He trudged back to the barn accompanied by a rush of animals eager for their serving of oats. Jin Nanxi was filling the troughs surrounded by sheep, goats, and yaks.

“I was wondering when you’d come back.”

“Here I am.” Pengfei said surlily as Nanxi walked toward him.

“Are you ready for your beating?”

Pengfei steeled himself for the encounter. “Let’s go. But I’m going to make you work for it, asshole.”

Nanxi smirked arrogantly, “It’ll be worth it to get payback for what you did.”

--Right, payback for what I did to him.--

“Wait, what?!”

******************************************************************************

Jin Neng rested his wooden practice sword on his shoulder and waited for a new sparring partner to approach. Shutian shuffled over, breathing heavy from his last bout, and stood before Neng with a grunt as Xiaotong chose a partner nearby.

“I think we’re gonna be working together to sort out some sparring issues for Pengfei.”

Neng nodded at Shutian’s words. “Right, until those idiots get bored or figure out he isn’t a pushover.”

Neng didn’t know Shutian and Xiaotong well. He kept to his own dorm mates usually and kept to himself even more than that.

Xiaotong came to join them, having heard the topic of conversation.

“So, who do we need to look out for specifically?”

Neng looked around for the disciples who had been giving his new friend such a hard time.

“Probably Daoping and Hongyu, and definitely… where’s Nanxi?”

Xiaotong’s sparring partner caught the last question and spoke up as he twirled his practice sword deftly.

“He took the yak-cart down to the valley today.”

The color drained from the Neng’s face. He spoke hesitantly to Shutian and Xiaotong.

“So, Pengfei is alone with one of the people who wants to beat the shit out of him for the next week?”

Shutian seemed realistic but unconcerned by the situation. “Oh damn. Yeah, he’s dead.”

Xiaotong clicked his tongue with a modicum of remorse, “Poor little guy.”