〈Romance of An-ping: Miss
Jin’s Interethnic Love Story〉6

Chapter 5 – Shayun Accepts Junsheng’s Confession

21

Night had fallen deeply. In the grove of acacia trees, the breeze rustled softly, and the shadows of leaves swayed gently. Moonlight filtered through the branches and leaves in mottled patches, falling like a light layer of silvery frost. The forest was quiet and still; only the distant murmur of a stream could be heard, like a softly whispered elegy.

Junsheng walked through the forest path, his steps hesitant, his heart pounding like a drum. When he approached the familiar large acacia tree, Shayun was already standing there quietly, dressed in a dark indigo coarse-cloth long garment, her long hair hanging over her shoulders, gazing up at the moonlit branches.

She turned her head, her eyes gentle yet hiding a trace of struggle.

Junsheng stepped forward and spoke in a low voice: “Shayun, I’m sorry. I… have implicated you.”

Shayun gently shook her head, her voice seeming to carry the coolness of the night breeze: “Junsheng, the one who should say sorry is me. I concealed my identity… I was not honest enough.”

The two stood facing each other, falling into silence for a moment. From the distance came the cry of a night bird, like a gentle urging.

Junsheng lowered his eyes and said quietly, “Dalay said… if I want to be with you, I must stay here, move into your home, and guard Chihkan.”

Shayun turned around, leaning her back against the tree trunk, her hands clasped together before her chest, and sighed softly: “Ah… this is the custom of our tribe. If you become the companion of a woman of the tribe, you must remain here. For you, this may be very difficult… My parents also do not wish for me to work together with you, because my status in the tribe is special. They care about the opinions of the tribespeople, and they fear you might be wronged.”

Junsheng stepped closer and gently took her hand: “I understand your difficulty, I truly do. But during these days of working together with you, I have already discovered—your attainments in Han medicine are profound, and your clinical experience is rich. We cooperate seamlessly. You can see the details that I overlook, and I can make up for the doubts you have yet to resolve. We are a match made by heaven.”

His tone shifted, and he added with a smile: “But don’t laugh at me for being too practical!”

Shayun pursed her lips in a smile, yet lowered her head to avoid his gaze: “No. I once thought… if the person you liked were Lalu, perhaps that would be better. She is very good at taking care of people, more careful than I am. My heart is not on those daily household matters of firewood, rice, oil, and salt. To tell the truth, in caring for a household, I am not as capable as she is.”

Junsheng gently lifted her chin, making her look directly at him: “My life is not only about food, clothing, housing, and travel. You know I am not a person who pursues pleasure. You are my most reliable partner, and the one who understands my temperament best. I am willing to stay here—for you.”

He took her hand and placed it against his chest: “I will write a letter back to the Netherlands and personally explain my decision to my parents—I want to be with you and put down roots and settle here in Chihkan.”

A trace of surprise and emotion flashed in Shayun’s eyes. She moved a little closer, a faint blush rising on her cheeks, and said softly: “Hearing you say this… I will no longer feel that I have wronged sister Lalu.”

Junsheng gazed at her and smiled gently: “Shayun, when you smile you are truly beautiful, like… the goddess of the Aegean Sea in Greek mythology, Venus, possessing both beauty and wisdom.”

Shayun lightly pushed him and burst into laughter: “Stop flattering me. If you keep talking like that, I’ll really believe it and think I truly am Venus.”

Junsheng tightened his hold on her hand and said seriously: “What I said comes from my heart. Shayun…”

Shayun smiled and closed her eyes gently, as if granting silent permission, or as if quietly waiting. Junsheng lowered his head and gently kissed her lips.

The night breeze brushed softly, the forest leaves rustling like the whispers of lovers.

After the kiss, Junsheng said softly: “Director Thomas of the Tayouan Medical Office has asked me to prepare to go, in a few days, to Sinkang and the nearby villages to carry out itinerant medical treatment.”

Shayun raised her head, a trace of worry in her eyes: “Do you want me to accompany you?”

Junsheng gently stroked her hair: “If you accompany me, then what about Chihkan here? What if someone comes seeking medical treatment—”

Shayun smiled lightly: “Recently there haven’t been many people in the community seeking treatment. It should be alright.”

Junsheng frowned and asked: “But… will your parents agree?”

Shayun nodded firmly: “I will persuade them. Just as you said, we are partners, each other’s right and left hands. As long as we are together, there is nothing to fear.”

The two looked at each other once again. Beneath the moonlight, the gaze they exchanged was already worth more than a thousand words.

22

The night wind, carrying the damp scent of the mountain forest, rushed through the cracks of the door. The dim yellow oil lamp cast swaying shadows on the wall. As soon as Shayun stepped into the house, before she had even removed the cloak from her shoulders, she saw Dabanya sitting upright beside the log table, wearing an over-garment embroidered with the tribal emblem, her expression stern, her hands clasped together on her knees. It was obvious that she had been waiting for a long time.

Shayun was startled in her heart, and her steps stopped. The edge of her cloak was still dripping with the damp dew of the forest.

Dabanya spoke coldly: “You ran out in the middle of the night—was it to see Junsheng?”

Shayun was taken aback, lowered her eyelashes, and said softly: “Sena…”

Dabanya’s voice suddenly rose a little: “Didn’t I tell you not to go look for him again? You are a young girl running out in the middle of the night—aren’t you afraid of encountering bad people?”

Shayun bit her lip, her eyes flickering with stubbornness: “Sena, Junsheng is not a bad person.”

Dabanya struck the tabletop heavily with her hand, and the water in the cup trembled slightly: “Junsheng indeed is not a bad person, but he is a foreigner, and sooner or later he will leave Chihkan! And you are the princess of the Chihkan tribe, the future heir to the chieftain—please remember your identity!”

Shayun stepped two steps closer and raised her head to meet her mother’s gaze, her eyes firm: “Sena, Junsheng said he is willing to stay in Chihkan for me.”

Dabanya was momentarily speechless. She slightly narrowed her eyes as she observed her daughter, her tone low and doubtful: “You believe the promise Junsheng gave?”

Shayun smiled, her tone gentle yet resolute: “I believe it, just like you once believed Sama.”

Dabanya’s expression flickered, as if struck by an old memory. Her eyes wandered for a moment. She said softly: “But Junsheng is a foreigner… Will his parents agree for him to marry into our family?”

Shayun nodded and walked to sit beside the table: “He said he will write a letter back and report it to his parents. He will not let me face rumors and gossip alone.”

Dabanya pondered for a moment, her gaze falling upon her daughter’s face. In those eyes she saw the same determination and passion she herself had possessed when she was young. Finally, she sighed and said: “Alright then, I will wait for him to personally state it to me.”

Shayun’s eyes lit up, the corners of her mouth rising into a smile. Suddenly she leaned toward her mother’s shoulder in a coquettish manner, gently shaking her arm: “Sena, then… I want to accompany Junsheng to the nearby villages to carry out itinerant medical treatment. Is that alright?”

Dabanya’s expression changed, and her body leaned back slightly: “That would not be good, would it? The two of you are not yet engaged, and people will speak idle gossip behind your backs.”

Shayun leaned even closer, her fingers lightly tugging at her mother’s sleeve, and her tone carried a trace of playfulness: “What gossip is there to say? Junsheng is going for itinerant medical treatment, and I am his assistant. We are not going on a trip.”

Dabanya raised her eyebrows and asked with a mocking tone: “You are defending him that much?”

Shayun giggled, her eyes curving like crescents. Resting her head on her mother’s shoulder, she said in a coquettish tone: “Sena~ don’t be like that…”

Dabanya turned her head to look at her daughter’s familiar yet unfamiliar appearance, as if seeing the self who had once been madly in love years ago.

The corners of her mouth twitched slightly as she concealed the contradictory emotions within her heart, and she only said calmly: “You must promise me—no matter what happens to him in the future, you must remember who you are.”

23

The afternoon sun slanted down onto the ox-cart road outside the Chihkan settlement. Wind blew from the valley, rolling up dust and fallen leaves from the dirt ground. Shayun and her younger brother Dalay each carried a bamboo basket on their backs, walking slowly along the winding path. She kept her head lowered, her face gloomy, saying nothing. The bamboo basket emitted the faint fragrance of several bundles of herbs, yet it could not suppress the gloom in her chest.

From behind came the jingling of an ox bell. An ox cart slowly drove down from the slope above. As the wheels rolled over the road, they made creaking sounds. The driver of the ox cart, Kali, saw the brother and sister from afar. His eyes lit up, and he quickly raised his voice and called out: “Shayun, Dalay—”

When the ox cart drew closer, he immediately pulled the rope and stopped the cart. He jumped down nimbly, and the moment his toes touched the ground, a cloud of dust rose.

“Let me give you a ride back. Walking this stretch of road is tiring too.” Kali showed his usual gentle smile and patted the wooden plank beside the cart.

Shayun did not even raise her head. She merely replied gloomily: “No need. The village is not far. We’ll just walk.”

Kali frowned, keenly sensing that something was wrong with the atmosphere. He stepped forward two steps and asked in a low voice: “What’s wrong? Shayun, who are you angry with?”

Shayun stopped walking and finally lifted her head to look at him, her eyes cold: “You ask me? Why don’t you ask yourself, Kali! Why did you let your sama bring the elders to our house?”

Kali was stunned by her questioning. His Adam’s apple moved as he swallowed, and he answered frankly: “I didn’t want you and Junsheng to become entangled.”

“Junsheng didn’t entangle me!” Shayun’s voice rose a little, and the basket on her back swayed. “And besides, it was you—it was you who brought Junsheng to the Han medical clinic in the first place, wasn’t it?”

Kali’s expression became complicated. He lowered his head and kicked a small stone on the ground. His tone suddenly became regretful: “Yes… I regret it now. I really shouldn’t have brought him to the settlement.”

Shayun was so angry that she clenched the straps of her basket with both hands. Her cheeks flushed red, as if misunderstood and also as if hurt: “Kali, I have always regarded you as an elder brother. Even if Junsheng had never come to Chihkan, I would still have regarded you that way.”

“I don’t believe it.” Kali shook his head. His voice was hoarse, and his eyes stared straight at her. “My intuition tells me—Junsheng’s appearance has changed your attitude toward me.”

Shayun’s eyes flickered for a moment. After a brief silence she said: “If you want to say it that way, I have nothing to say.”

Kali stepped one step closer to her, his tone urgent and low: “You like him. I can see it.”

Shayun looked toward the distant mountains, as if searching for an exit. She slowly nodded, yet her voice was extremely calm: “Yes, I like Junsheng. But that is something I only confirmed recently. Junsheng has given my life direction. He made me understand that I can do something for others. I am not only the princess of the tribe—I can also be his assistant, someone who can truly help patients.”

Kali’s lips trembled slightly. In his eyes appeared sorrow that he could not conceal. He raised one hand, as if wanting to touch her shoulder, yet it stopped in midair and eventually dropped.

“Shayun…” he murmured, his voice carrying loss and pleading, “I’m just afraid you’ll be hurt…”

Shayun turned around and gave no further reply, only letting her back grow longer and longer in the light of the setting sun.

Kali turned around in dejection and dragged his steps back to the ox cart. Placing both hands on the side of the cart, his movements were much heavier than before. He climbed up and slowly flicked the whip to urge the ox forward. The cart creaked as it continued onward, and the sound of the wheels and the ox bell seemed especially lonely.

Dalay stood where he was, watching Kali’s figure grow farther and farther away. He quietly said to his sister: “Sis… Kali seemed really sad just now.”

Shayun gently let out a breath, her eyes firm: “Better a short pain than a long one. I should have made things clear with him.”

24

Through the lattice windows of the Han medical clinic in Chihkan settlement poured the damp light of evening. The air was filled with the mixed scent of medicinal herbs and alcohol. The sky was gloomy, and raindrops had already begun striking the window lattice. Peals of thunder seemed to come from the distant mountains, shaking the entire small house so that it trembled slightly.

Shayun stood before the wooden table, holding a piece of white cloth soaked in hot water, carefully wiping the metal instruments. The surface of the instruments reflected her concentrated expression and a trace of fatigue. The medicine jars on the wooden shelf were arranged neatly, and each jar had a label written in Shayun’s own hand.

At this moment, Junsheng had just sent away the last patient and staggered out from the consultation room. His steps were unsteady, and he had to hold onto the doorframe to steady himself. Fine beads of sweat seeped from his forehead, his face pale. With both hands braced on the edge of the table, his body suddenly went weak and he almost fell.

“Junsheng!” Shayun was startled and hurried over to support him. “What’s wrong with you?”

Junsheng tried to stand upright and forced a faint smile at the corner of his mouth. “It’s nothing, just a little… dizziness.”

“You’re lying. Your face is as white as paper!” Shayun frowned and grasped his arm with one hand. In that instant, she felt an unusual chill.

“Why is your skin so cold…?” she murmured, her brows knitting tighter and tighter. “Junsheng, could it be that you have… contracted malaria?”

Junsheng smiled weakly and said in a low voice, “Maybe I’m just too tired… let me rest a bit and I’ll be fine.”

Shayun did not argue further. With one hand supporting his waist and the other bracing his arm, she said, “Come, I’ll help you into the rest room.”

Junsheng’s body leaned almost entirely against her. Shayun struggled as she half dragged and half supported him into the tatami room inside. The sound of rain pounded densely on the eaves like thousands of galloping horses. Lightning flashed and thunder roared outside the window, the light flickering uncertainly as it shone in.

Shayun helped him lie down, immediately fetched a thick wool blanket to cover him, and then crouched down to search through a wooden box for medicine bottles. She quickly poured out some light-gray medicinal powder into a bamboo cup, added some warm water, and gently stirred it.

She sat back down beside Junsheng and softly called to him, “Junsheng, drink a little medicine. I’ll help you sit up…”

Junsheng’s eyes were blurred, half awake and half asleep, and he gave a faint response. Shayun half embraced him, letting him lean against her shoulder, and fed him the medicine spoonful by spoonful until he finished it. The bitterness of the medicine spread between the two of them. Junsheng frowned slightly, and finally relaxed his body and fell into a deep sleep.

Shayun gently laid him back on the pillow, tucked the blanket properly, and once again touched his forehead. It was astonishingly hot. Her fingertips lingered on his forehead for a long time, her gaze gentle yet filled with pain.

She sat quietly at the edge of the bed, looking at his sleeping face. In her ears were only the sounds of wind and rain and his faint breathing. She murmured softly, “Junsheng… you are always like this, carrying all the burdens alone…”

She lowered her head, pressing her forehead against his, and let out a long breath. That breath seemed like the release of some long-suppressed weight in her heart.

After a while, Shayun slowly unfastened the buttons of the clothing on her shoulders, her movements calm and resolute. She took off her outer garment, lifted the blanket, and gently slipped inside, embracing Junsheng from behind. Her arms wrapped around his cold body, pressing close to his temperature, as if wanting to pass her own warmth to him.

Outside, the thunder still roared. Inside the room, only her heartbeat and Junsheng’s faint breathing remained, intertwining into a quiet sense of peace.

25

Outside, torrential rain was pouring down. Raindrops as large as beans struck the iron roof, producing dense popping sounds like ten thousand drums beating together, making people feel restless and irritated. The wind passed through the mountains and forced its way in through the cracks of the window, lifting the cloth curtain at the corner of the wall. Rainwater slid down along the window frame and dripped into a basin beneath the windowsill, making crisp dripping sounds.

Kali and Daliguan sat beside the long table. On the table was a clay pot of wild boar meat that was steaming hot. In the soup floated several slices of ginger and the fragrance of millet wine. The charcoal fire glowed faintly red, occasionally making small popping sounds.

Lalu stood by the window with her arms crossed over her chest, her forehead pressed against the cold windowsill. Her gaze was fixed on the hazy alleyway outside, and she said nothing.

Kali picked up a piece of wild boar meat with his chopsticks and gently blew on it to cool it. He glanced at Lalu and said, “Little sister, stop waiting. This rain won’t stop for quite a while. Junsheng… tonight he will probably stay at the Han medical clinic. Shayun will take care of him, and perhaps she has even prepared dinner for him.”

Hearing this, Lalu’s brows furrowed slightly. She slowly turned around and asked in a questioning tone, “How do you know he will stay with Shayun?”

Kali shook his head and sighed, putting down his chopsticks. “It’s not that I know. It’s that I understand Shayun. Her thoughts have never been as simple as you think.”

Lalu remained silent for a while, then walked back to the table and quietly sat down. She picked up her bowl and chopsticks, but only stirred the bean rice in her bowl.

Seeing this, Kali handed her a piece of meat, his tone becoming gentler. “Don’t think too much. You’ve been tired all day as well. Eat something hot first to warm your stomach.”

Daliguan smiled and tried to smooth things over. “Our Lalu, when she waits for someone, she is always this affectionate. Come, drink some soup to warm yourself. The wild boar stew is just right.”

A faint smile appeared at the corner of Kali’s mouth, but the hidden sorrow in his eyes could not be concealed.

Meanwhile, in the dining room of Dabanya’s house, the atmosphere was also tinged with damp worry.

Inside the house, a dim yellow oil lamp swayed with light and shadow, illuminating several plates of hot dishes on the bamboo-woven table and a large pot of wild vegetable chicken soup steaming with white vapor. In the corner of the wall hung a cloak that had just been changed out of; drops of water dripped onto the floor and gathered into a small puddle.

Dabanya came out of the kitchen carrying a pot of hot soup and placed it on the table. Her fingers were slightly red from the cold, yet she did not forget to wipe the sweat from her forehead.

Li Qinghua sat by the table, flipping through a deerskin notebook. Hearing the thunder rumbling outside, he could not hide the unease in his heart. “Shayun hasn’t come back yet… could it be that she has been trapped by this rain?”

Dabanya lifted the lid of the pot. Steam rushed up to her face. She coughed once and said as she sat down, “With the rain falling like this, the mountain path will be slippery. It may not be safe for her to walk back. I’m worried that tonight… she may not come back.”

Li Qinghua immediately closed the deerskin notebook and stood up, walking a few steps toward the doorway as if making up his mind about something. “I’ll go pick her up once the rain gets a little lighter. Once it gets dark, the mountain path will be even harder to walk.”

Dabanya gently pulled his sleeve, her tone gentle. “Qinghua, let’s watch for a while longer. She is someone who knows her limits. If she truly cannot return, she will certainly stay overnight at the Han medical clinic. You are worrying too much.”

Li Qinghua looked at the misty curtain of rain outside the door, took a deep breath, and finally nodded. Returning to sit by the table, he said, “Alright. Let’s eat something first, and then we’ll decide later.”

Dabanya ladled a bowl of soup for him and said softly, “It’s so cold today. Warm yourself first. Don’t let our daughter know that you’re already ill yet still worrying about her.”

Li Qinghua looked up at her. A trace of gratitude appeared in his eyes, and a faint smile curved at the corner of his mouth. “You always understand me so well…”

Their conversation temporarily fell silent amid the steaming heat of the soup, while outside, the rain still showed no sign of stopping.