The trip down the Zhosian Mountains was unhurried and quiet. Quan started the trip surrounded by scenery he was used to, but as they traced their way through the mountains and the air grew thicker, he started seeing trees bigger and greener than he was used to, heard birds he was unfamiliar with, and fed the horses grass thicker than anything that could grow on the plateau. His eyes grew wider with every mile, and Lian carefully watched him watching his surroundings change, delighting as he delighted in the novelty of every sight, sound, and sense.

The mountain pass was steep at points, where they had to walk their horses carefully down the trail, and Lian almost had a hard time believing she’d made it up the whole way, in winter, on foot, six months pregnant all those years ago. It had, she was the first to admit, taken almost ten times longer than it did to descend on horseback, but surviving the climb at all was quite the feat. She didn’t remember the climb being particularly grueling. She had Quan to think about, and everything else – the cold, the snow, the exhausted feet – had seemed inconsequential. She was, however, glad that his first trip down would be on horseback.

As they made their way gradually north, they met travellers heading back towards Bhuo: traders and messengers who eeked out a living on the small bit of trade the two countries carried out. There were small camps spaced for the evenings of the three day trek: it had been designed to be completed in that time, and the supply stops had been built with that in mind. It was customary to bring gifts for the families that manned the camps, so Lian made sure Quan presented some useful tool or preserved food to each of the camps. At night they slept next to roaring fires that kept the mountain predators away, and they listened as the sherpas at each camp shared their prognostications for the coming day’s weather.

The last stop was only two miles from the border, and it doubled as Zhosian’s military outpost. Barely more than five hundred soldiers stayed in the small town, but it had high walls and even some makeshift siege equipment to protect against an invasion, but most of its defensive nature was from the steepness of the climb up to it. Horses took almost an hour to move a hundred yards either up or down, and the pass was only big enough for four or five people to go at once. The idea that an entire army could move up the pass was comedic more than scary. They could be shot and killed by Zhosian archers in the thousands before a single man made it to the walls to begin a siege.

Lian and Quan passed out the Zhosian walls and made their way carefully down the impossibly steep bit of road. Once the tricky nature of the climb had been dealt with, there was nothing left to do but consider what came next: the Central Empire.

“I’ll do the talking,” Lian told Quan in a reassuring tone, “don’t worry. But he’ll want you to introduce yourself.”

“Ok,” Quan said simply, his eyes wider than she’d ever seen as they followed the path to the Central Empire’s border fort. It was three times the size of the Zhosians’, with stone turrets and a high, tall gate that stood open. It was possible for an enterprising individual to slip by the fort and into the Empire, say at night, but Lian had built up a relationship with the commander of the outpost over the years, and had no intention of sneaking by.

“Who goes there?” A cry came out from above the gate, bringing their small train to a halt.

“Zhao Lian!” Lian responded, “I’ve brought someone to meet Commander Puotong!”

Two loud beats of a drum sounded, signalling they could enter. Lian nudged her horse forward, followed by the pack horse, and then Quan slightly behind.

They walked into the gate and through to the central yard, where a somewhat overweight man with very thin hair and almost no clothes on appeared cheerily to greet them.

“Zhao!” Puotong smiled wide and walked toward them, greeting her horse and letting it smell his hand as Lian and Quan hopped off their horses.

“Puotong!” She approached and greeted him with a formal bow before stepping closer and patting him on the shoulder. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too! But I wasn’t expecting to see you for another month at least. What’s this all about?”

“What’s this all about?” Lian pointed to his lack of clothing.

“It’s the damn heat,” Puotong admitted, “I’ve been too far south for too long. I can handle the winters no problem, but the smallest heatwave comes and I turn into a puddle.” He laughed the laugh of a man used to having his underlings join him in that laughter. “The boys don’t mind, do they?” He half-turned to his soldiers, who murmured agreement. “Now, who is this?” He finally took note of Quan, standing to the side of the horses, awaiting his introduction.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“This…” Lian pointed at Quan, “is my son.”

There was a long pause of confusion that passed wraith-like over Puotong’s face. “I…”

“Adopted son,” Lian timed the explanation perfectly, forcing Puotong to admit he should have seen it coming. “Of course.”

“Ah, of course. But… you didn’t tell me you’d adopted a son.”

“Yes I did. Two years ago. You don’t remember?”

“No! I’m sure I’d remember something like that.”

Lian scrunched up her face like she was trying to remember, then cleared the uncertainty away. “Aaaah, I remember now. You were on the third bowl of that wine I brought down from Jin when you got it out of me. I think you had a couple more that night too.”

“Really? I mean, it’s possible, I just…”

“You were saying, ‘Ah Lian, it’s such a shame you can’t have kids, you’d be a great mom.’ And I said, ‘Actually Bo, it’s funny you should mention that,’ and then you said, ‘What did I mention?’ and I said, ‘Kids,’ and you said ‘Why’s that funny?’ and I said, ‘Because I actually have one.’”

Puotong followed the mimicked conversation, and Lian’s impersonation of the Commander’s voice was good enough that he couldn’t help but believe her version of events. Plus she had that Shuli Go memory, he knew. He examined Quan closely, then leaned towards Lian and said. “He looks like you.”

“That’s why I adopted him.”

Puotong chuckled, then asked, “he’s not Zhosian I mean. He looks like he’s from the north somewhere.”

“You’re right, from Northern Shu. He was left on the side of the road, and one of the Tiendu Shu monks who was teaching at a temple in Chengwa came across him and carried him all the way back to Zhosian. I’ve known him ever since I started visiting Bhuo. And three years ago I finally did the right thing and adopted him myself.”

“Why did you wait so long?”

“I had to make sure he’d look like me first,” Lian deadpanned.

Puotong laughed again, relaxed and free. Then he stepped towards Quan and performed his own bow. “I am Puotong Bo. A thousand blessings upon you and your family.”

“And a hundred years peace and joy to yours,” Quan replied, returning the bow of a child.

“Ah, his Imperial is good,” Puotong mentioned to Lian.

“The monks taught him Imperial, Zhosian, and Thaan too. That way he can go wherever he wants when he gets old enough.”

“Well, it’s good to see you in any case,” Puotong threw his hands up in the air and waved off any more concern. He didn’t catch Quan letting out a long-held breath. Their first lie had gone off without a hitch.

“What are you doing out here anyway?” Puotong asked.

“Actually he’s part of the reason. I want to take him to Daming and see if I can get the paperwork sorted to have him officially recognized as my son. Plus, the monks piled me up with some things for sale, of course.”

“I see,” Puotong really only saw the goods for sale. “You’ve set aside the tariff?”

“Of course, one quarter, there on the pack horse. Quan labelled it.”

Puotong moved towards the horse and spotted the labelled sack. He lifted it and the weight of the bag registered in a smile that spread across his face. The official tax at the border between Zhosian and the Empire was 25% but Lian doubted very much of that made its way to the Imperial coffers. Puotong was resembling less and less a military commander, and more a typically corrupt bureaucrat, and not just because he couldn’t handle the heat. After cherishing the thought of where all his earnings could go, he turned back to Lian and smiled.

“Will you stay with me for a meal? There’s rice from up north!”

“No, I’m afraid we can’t. Have to be on the move. I promised the monks I’d have him back in school before too long. Daming and back, as quick as possible. If we make good time, maybe on the way back.”

“Of course, of course. Well, we will see you then.”

Puotong moved to return to the shade of his office, but stopped to examine Quan one more time.

“Left on the side of the road. Just terrible.”

Quan didn’t know how to respond so he just nodded absent mindedly back at Puotong.

“Still,” the commander finished, “you turned out alright.” He smiled and marched past, leaving one of his men to take the tariff and for Lian and Quan to remount and head north towards the capital of Southern Shu.

The road was still winding as they passed through the foothills below the mountains, but Quan wasn’t as interested in the landscape or different animals this time around. He had a quizzical look on his face for hours as they trotted along the path towards the start of the Brilliant River.

“What is it?” Lian asked.

“…Would you do that? I mean, formally adopt me, here in the Empire? Call me your son?”

Lian looked away from her son back towards the path. “I’ve been thinking about it. It could make a lot of things easier, like it did back there.” They had been working on the best lie to allow them to travel together without confusion or incident, before deciding that the truth with the slight twist of adoption was probably the best strategy. “But it could make more problems too. Even adopted children of Shuli Go are not welcome in a lot of places. And if anyone ever asked why we do look so much alike, and arrived at an answer they didn’t like…”

“Yeah.” Quan thought through the same batch of issues his mother had posed to him since he was a small child. After considering it a few seconds though, he continued. “I think it’d be nice.”

They both grinned, and if either one had been looking at the other, they would have seen the similarities of that grin were the exact type of giveaway that could cause them both to become very unpopular wherever they travelled.