Chapter 114: Inquiries

“Zhuoma won’t be in danger, right?”

Liu Ji lay hidden in the grass, gazing at the distant city and speaking in the Boli language.

Judging by the distance, it was over fifteen hundred meters away. People appeared as tiny as ants, their clothing indistinct—if only they had a telescope.

“She won’t. At worst, the sheep might be seized by the Tubo people, but they wouldn’t resort to killing,” said Cuo Guli, his calmness surpassing even Liu Ji’s. Clearly, this wasn’t the first time such a situation had occurred.

Liu Ji suddenly understood. He had been evaluating the children of this era through the lens of the future, thinking a child under ten should be attending elementary school and unlikely to be involved in war. But here, it was just another everyday occurrence.

Sending a child on such a risky venture wasn’t something he had considered, but others saw it differently. In this context, a young shepherd girl was actually the safest, for the purpose of bringing her out wasn’t for leisure—something even the girl herself understood.

In the end, the plan was for Zhuoma to herd a flock of horned sheep bought from mountain tribes, wobbling her way into Bazhado City. More than an hour had passed in this manner.

The main difficulty lay in the language barrier. This wasn’t the future, where dialects could shift every ten or a hundred miles. The Boli language was of little use here. The Xiangxiong region had a long history, with its own customs and language, now lost to the annals of time with few records remaining. In contrast, Cuo Guli and his neighboring Boli people shared some linguistic common ground.

A Boli girl herding sheep was nothing unusual. Who knew which wealthy family’s servant she might be?

They hid in a valley, gathering their pack horses in one spot while everyone spread out cautiously, eyes sharp as they scanned their surroundings. After a full circuit, Kang Laosi settled beside Liu Ji and whispered, “No movement. Hardly anyone on the roads. It seems the route’s been cut off.”

Hearing this, Liu Ji glanced back. Kang Laosi’s gaze was fixed on the city, worry evident—not just over the battle but for the little girl as well.

The outcome was recorded in history. In theory, Liu Ji had no cause for concern. Yet, being part of the situation inevitably influenced him. He wasn’t skilled at feigning mystical insight, and besides, his arrival had altered history. Whether it would cause other ripples was uncertain.

---

“No news is good news. Perhaps the Tubo forces couldn’t reach this far, or maybe we didn’t chase too recklessly. Everything will unfold in due time. Look, here they come.”

His reaction was a beat slow, but Cuo Guli, with his sharp eyes, already lifted his head—though not standing, just staring intently below. The wooden bow on his back had been quietly removed and placed beside him.

Zhuoma cradled a newborn lamb in her arms, as tiny as a mouse. The rest of the horned sheep clustered obediently in a tight group, like domesticated animals. But Liu Ji immediately noticed one was missing.

“An adult ram is gone. Most likely taken by the city gate guards,” Cuo Guli observed more keenly than Liu Ji. Clearly, neither considered the small lamb among the flock.

People often overlook what’s right before them, creating blind spots in their thinking.

The sheep ambled slowly up the hillside to graze. Zhuoma still held the lamb as she returned to their hideout, with no one trailing her.

“When I entered the city, many were saying the Tubo had been defeated and the Tang army was approaching. Later, I heard their men had entered the city. I went to the gate to investigate, trading one sheep. A local told me their forces arrived earlier than ours—several hundred, all cavalry.”

The girl held up five fingers but hesitated before bending one down. Liu Ji understood: around four hundred. Whatever the exact number, the Tubo defeat was a foregone conclusion, and the outcome hadn’t strayed far from expectations.

“Have you seen the leader?”

Zhuoma shook her head. “I waited at the city corner for a long time. They stayed holed up in one house. Later, the one who took the sheep told me the gate would soon close, so I left first.”

This was the advantage of a child—openly gathering intelligence without anyone suspecting her as a Tang spy.

Based on her information, Liu Ji formed a basic judgment: all Tubo survivors would eventually regroup in this city. The Tang army must be close behind, forcing them into a state of high alert. But this created trouble for him—entering the city wouldn’t be easy. Even a shepherd boy could be recognized as an outsider if noticed, a risk not worth taking.

“What about the other matter? Any news?”

---

Zhuoma shook her head again. “The local I asked was very old. He’d never heard of any princess nearby—I don’t think he’d lie to me.”

“Maybe she’s not around here. You did well.”

Liu Ji ruffled her hair in praise, and the girl immediately smiled.

Despite no results, he remained undeterred. The information was vague to begin with; finding or not finding something was normal. Luck wasn’t always on one’s side—sometimes it simply wasn’t.

“Do we wait here then?” Kang Laosi’s question was unsurprising. The city was inaccessible, and the girl’s trail cold.

“No, we keep moving. We’ll bypass it.”

Liu Ji pointed to the distant mountain range. “We’ll cross Xiangxiong and visit a place called Niboluo.”

Kang Laosi and the others had no objections. There was no chance left here. The garrison commander’s intentions were unclear, but anywhere they went looked much the same. What difference did it make?

They continued upstream along the Indus River, roughly parallel to the Himalayan range—this direction more reliable than any map, ensuring they wouldn’t get lost. After about five days, they emerged from the Indus valley onto a flat highland: the southern edge of the Qingqiang Plateau, forming the border of the future Chinese territory.

When a towering peak suddenly rose before them, gleaming white in the sunlight like a stupa, Liu Ji recognized it at once.

This was the “Sacred Peak” of the Qiang people in later eras—the highest summit of the Gangdise Mountains, Mount Kailash.

Beyond this mountain range lay the land of the Niboluo people. Compared to the tiny kingdom of the same name in later times, this one was far larger, still bounded naturally by the Himalayas and adjacent to Tubo.

Stretching long like a patch of ointment, its other end reached the yet-to-be unified South Asian subcontinent.