Chapter 153: The Sanzu River
Bai Mingyu carried Xie Jing on his back. Xie Jing was unconscious, lying across Bai Mingyu’s shoulder, eyes tightly shut.
Bai Mingyu scanned the stone tomb, gritting his teeth: “Sir, just waiting like this won’t work. This tomb is very deep—soon the water will pour in. We have to find a way out first!”
Huang Mingyou said: “You take Little Xie. Over there, Hu Da and the other three: one takes Miss Hongqi, one takes Liu Ruyi, and the last stays with Hu Da. Hu Da’s arm is injured; he can’t exert much strength…”
Before he could finish, the stone tomb trembled again. The water level surged, reaching almost mid-calf. Likely, the underground river had rushed a large amount of water in. The walls, no longer as stable as before, shed small pieces of stone.
Everyone on the stone bed couldn’t move; they had to bend over, protecting vital areas. Hu Da, closest to Huang Mingyou, quickly placed his arm above Huang Mingyiu’s head to shield him. The blow hit Hu Da instead, sparing the elder from a fractured skull.
Once the panic settled slightly, Huang Mingyou, his voice hoarse, repeated his instructions: “Each of you take one, leave me. Take these books out with you!”
“Sir, you cannot!”
“Follow my orders! I’m old, my legs are injured, I’m a burden. If you truly care for me, carry these books out. Go quickly!”
…
Xie Jing hadn’t drunk a drop of water for two days, trapped in a dreamlike trance.
He felt as if he had walked an endless distance. His body lacked strength, collapsing from exhaustion. Yet, intermittently, he was searching for something. The wilderness stretched endlessly, he could not see anyone, and anxiety gnawed at him.
He followed many others, walking blindly. Most were poorly dressed in rags and torn robes. Even in the cold, no one had thick winter clothing. Professors with gold-rimmed glasses joined the refugees, braiding grass ropes to tie their robes at the waist and sleeves to keep warm.
Xie Jing mechanically followed, the group approaching a river.
He stepped into the icy water, numb yet moving forward for nearly half the distance.
The others cheered, talking amongst themselves, encouraging one another. One elderly professor shouted repeatedly: “Everyone, hold on! Once we cross, it’s the new campus! Though we lost the main group, we’ll find them soon. Once we get there, it’ll be like before!”
Others responded and quickened their pace.
The river slowly rose. Xie Jing slipped slightly and almost inhaled water.
That moment… awakened him. He paused in the river, suddenly turning back.
The river surface was shrouded in mist; he could not see the path he had taken.
A familiar, thin figure stood at the riverbank, unmoving for a long while.
A passerby reached out to hold Xie Jing’s hand: “Hey, Little Xie, we’re almost there! Don’t worry! Just follow us—we’ll go together!”
Xie Jing abruptly shook off the hand, decisively heading back. In shallow water, he ran; in deeper water, he swam. Then he remembered what he had forgotten…
He had left Lord Bai Jiu behind.
How could he abandon him and move forward alone?
Xie Jing ran swiftly, avoiding everyone, heading toward the direction he had fixed in his mind. He reached the riverbank, clutching the cold edge as he struggled to climb out. The mud was slippery, and he lost one shoe. Barefoot, standing in the cold, wet earth, he was disheveled, focusing only on the figure ahead.
Lord Bai Jiu extended his hand, eyes filled with both helplessness and gentleness.
Xie Jing didn’t hesitate, leaping to embrace him. His throat choked, pent-up grief poured into his strength, holding the other tightly.
Lord Bai Jiu asked softly: “Why did you come back?”
Xie Jing shook his head, unable to speak, tears streaming endlessly.
Lord Bai Jiu slowly pried open his hands and coaxed: “Little Jing’er, be good. Let go. You need to leave.”
Xie Jing shook his head, refusing to move.
Lord Bai Jiu smiled lightly, kissed the tears at the corner of his eyes, and solemnly promised, “When you open your eyes, when you wake… I’ll still be by your side.”
Xie Jing cried, voice broken, fingers trembling as he clung tighter, yet he felt himself being pulled further from him. He heard voices around, calling his name, moving from distant to near, until one voice finally pierced through. He awoke suddenly, the blurred red before his eyes clearing.
The tomb trembled. More people surrounded them. Some were shouting as they ran forward, others rushing to them.
Xie Jing’s ears rang, unable to make out words. Only the words from the one holding him were clear, lips close to his ear, voice hoarse: “It’s okay, Jing’er, it’s alright. I’m here…”
In his hands, between the gaps of his fingers, were blood and stone dust. Earlier, in the tomb, he had been clutching a stone pillow.
He murmured something.
“What?”
“I want… to be buried together…”
His voice was too soft; Lord Bai Jiu didn’t catch it, thinking he was frightened, and soothed him.
Xie Jing slowly lifted his hands, wrapping around Lord Bai Jiu’s neck, hugging tightly, burying his head and crying aloud. Even in his embrace, it wasn’t enough; something was missing, a void in his heart.
When his fingers had been pried open earlier, he had been silently pleading with Lord Bai Jiu, answering the same way every time he was asked:
—Don’t send me away.
—My lifelong wish… is only to be buried with you.
Shuiniu Town, the third afternoon of the underground palace excavation.
Lord Bai Jiu carried Xie Jing out of the tomb, muddy but thankfully uninjured.
Bai Mingyu, Hu Da, and others were rescued. Huang Mingyou had been swept into a small cave. When discovered, he still held the book scrolls high in his hands.
The excavation at Shuiniu Town had drawn military attention and that of scholars in Beiping. Professor Fu of the Central Academy’s History and Archaeology Team quickly organized a work group, conducting difficult rescue excavations under tense circumstances. Huang Mingyou, despite a severe leg injury, refused to leave, staying to participate in the scholarly work, going three consecutive days without rest, copying and transcribing lost manuscripts, with irreplaceable historical value.
During the excavation, the Bai and Xie families’ heads did not participate.
Lord Bai Jiu summoned Sun Fu from Shanghai to guard the site, personally took Xie Jing back to Sichuan to recuperate, ignoring all other matters.
He hired the best doctors, staying by Xie Jing’s side without leaving.
After exposure to sunlight, the fungal infection on Xie Jing’s body was quickly eliminated. He had no major injuries, only cracked fingernails on all ten fingers from exertion. The nails were treated and carefully bandaged.
The doctor advised plenty of rest. Lord Bai Jiu wrapped him in a blanket, holding him by the window to soak in sunlight.
The bed was spacious; the two of them lay comfortably. To avoid boredom, Lord Bai Jiu read softly from a travelogue.
Xie Jing held a white jade amulet. Two fingers on his left hand had mostly healed, enough to be visible. He played with tassels using those fingers.
Lord Bai Jiu held his hand, kissed it, and smiled: “Feeling sleepy? Shall I change the book? Or, should I call the troupe to perform for you?”
Xie Jing shook his head, nestled in his arms, whispering softly.
Lord Bai Jiu responded and kissed the top of his head: “I’m here.”
Xie Jing murmured something else, burying his head and nuzzling him.
Only then did Lord Bai Jiu understand clearly. His eyes were full of care as he gently pinched Xie Jing’s earring, promising: “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll stay with you.”
