〈Romance of An-ping: Miss
Jin’s Interethnic Love Story〉17

Chapter 16 Junsheng Returns to Chikan Village in Triumph

81

The setting sun dyed the sky of Xiaolong Village red, the clouds layered like flames, reflecting upon the wide plaza in front of the assembly hall. The stone slabs on the ground still held the residual heat of sunset. A gentle breeze blew past, stirring the woven banners hanging around the plaza, producing a rustling sound.

Ali’s ox cart slowly drove in under the crowding of the tribespeople. The wheels rolled over the stone path at the edge of the plaza, producing a low, rhythmic sound—“creak, creak,” like the response of an ancient ritual. The tribespeople had already formed a semicircle, their expressions solemn yet filled with anticipation.

Before the ox cart had even fully stopped, Wula excitedly waved his arms and shouted loudly: “The chief is back! Chief Dou Ning has returned safely!”

The crowd instantly burst into cheers. Some clapped, some raised both hands to the sky in gratitude to the ancestral spirits, and some children ran about reporting to the elders.

On the ox cart, Dou Ning stood up, somewhat fatigued, while Junsheng carefully supported her. Though her face was pale, her eyes were firm as she slowly waved to the tribespeople. The crowd immediately quieted, their eyes filled with respect and excitement.

Wula and two village guards quickly stepped forward. One supported Dou Ning’s arm, and another guarded behind her, softly saying: “Chief, be careful of the steps.”

As soon as Dou Ning’s foot touched the ground, she was somewhat unsteady. Wula held her tightly, and she nodded lightly in thanks.

At this moment, Princess Yimeina rushed through the crowd, her eyes reddened, and threw herself into her mother’s arms: “Mother… I was so afraid I would never see you again…”

Dou Ning gently stroked her daughter’s hair and comforted her softly: “Silly child, I told you, I would come back.”

Mother and daughter embraced for a long time. The surrounding tribespeople were all deeply moved, many already having tears in their eyes.

With Wula’s support, Dou Ning slowly walked into the assembly hall. Inside, the atmosphere was quiet and solemn. A faint herbal fragrance burned within the room, and light streamed down through gaps in the roof, laying layers of soft glow across the beds.

Several injured village guards lay on beds covered with woven mats. Nearby tribespeople were changing bandages or bringing soup and water. Junsheng and Shayun followed closely behind the whole way.

Dou Ning walked to the first bed, crouched down, and gently held the hand of a young village guard. Her eyes were filled with apology and emotion.

“The wound… does it still hurt?” she asked softly, her voice slightly trembling.

The guard, though still showing fatigue on his face, forced a smile and shook his head: “Chief, I am much better. The doctor’s medicine is very effective. I am recovering quickly, and it does not hurt much anymore.”

Hearing this, tears shimmered in Dou Ning’s eyes. She gently stroked the guard’s forehead, her voice choked: “It is all because of me… that you have suffered so much… if I had not fallen into the enemy’s hands…”

The guard hurriedly sat up slightly, grasped her hand tightly, and said firmly: “Chief, please do not say that. To protect the village is our responsibility passed down through generations. If we can shed blood for you and for this village, it is our honor.”

The room instantly fell silent. Hearing these words, everyone lowered their heads, their eyes reddened.

Shayun softly said: “Chief, everyone has been waiting for your safe return… You are not only our leader, but also our heart.”

Dou Ning nodded gently, stood up, and then walked toward the next bed. Though her steps were slow, they were filled with strength, as she moved from one wounded person to another, personally greeting each, personally holding every hand that had fought for her.

At this moment, she seemed no longer merely the female chief of the tribe, but the mother of the people, a symbol of a soul made stronger through suffering.

The afterglow of the setting sun illuminated the hills of Chikan Village. Golden-red light fell upon the tree shadows and stone walls on both sides of the village entrance. Birdsong and insect sounds interwove within the forest, as if playing a prelude for this long-awaited reunion.

Two ox carts slowly drove into the village entrance along a gravel path. The wheels crushed thick fallen leaves, producing creaking sounds. As soon as the ox carts appeared, the tribespeople who had long been waiting burst into cheers, standing on both sides of the path, their faces filled with joy.

“Junsheng and Princess Shayun are back!” one villager shouted loudly, like igniting a flame, stirring a thunder of cheers along the entire village road.

Junsheng stood up on the ox cart, placed his hand on the edge, and waved to everyone, his face carrying traces of travel-weariness yet unable to conceal his radiance. He turned and carefully helped Shayun down from the cart. Though her steps were light, her eyes shone with the brilliance of reunion after a long separation.

As soon as the two stepped onto the land of Chikan Village, the villagers crowded forward to shake hands and embrace them. Some offered warm water, some presented strings of mountain fruits, their faces filled with sincere gratitude.

“The great hero has returned!” “If not for Junsheng, how could we have seen Chief Dou Ning again so soon!”

Junsheng nodded repeatedly in response: “This is the effort of everyone together. That the four chiefs could return is due to the blessing of the ancestral spirits.”

Lalu, Yimeina, Wula, and Dalai followed behind the ox carts, also nodding to the villagers one by one. When the children saw Lalu, they excitedly shouted: “Sister Lalu is back!” Lalu smiled, bent down, and high-fived the children. Yimeina shyly waved, her eyes searching everywhere for familiar faces.

Junsheng and Shayun came to the stone steps in front. Directly opposite stood the couple Dabongya. The sunlight stretched their shadows long, interweaving on the ground into a silhouette of reunion.

“Mother, Father!” As soon as Shayun saw her parents, she ran forward and embraced Dabongya tightly. Junsheng also stepped forward quickly, warmly shaking hands with Li Qinghua, followed immediately by a firm embrace.

“It is good that you are safe, good that you are safe!” Dabongya patted her daughter’s back, tears glistening at the corners of her eyes.

Shayun leaned close to her mother’s ear and softly said a few words. Dabongya suddenly froze, her eyes lighting up instantly. She tightly grasped her daughter’s arm, turned her head, and whispered a few words into her husband Li Qinghua’s ear.

After hearing it, Li Qinghua’s previously resolute face softened at once, and a rare gentle smile appeared at the corner of his mouth: “Really? We… are going to become grandparents?”

Dabongya lowered her voice, unable to hide the joy in her eyes as she asked: “Does Junsheng know he is going to become a father?”

Shayun lowered her head with a smile, shyly saying: “He has been so busy these days that he is dizzy, he simply has no time for me to tell him… I want to find a chance to tell him after we return.”

Dabongya squeezed her daughter’s hand, her tone gentle yet teasing: “Then quickly find a chance to hint it to him. A man, becoming a father for the first time, should know earlier.”

Shayun nodded lightly: “I will, Mother.”

Junsheng, who was nearby, had not clearly heard their conversation, but noticed something unusual in their expressions. He leaned over and asked: “What are you whispering about? You both look very happy.”

Shayun smiled mysteriously and lightly patted the back of his hand: “I will tell you when I cook soup tonight.”

82

The afternoon sunlight fell upon the deer-breeding farm on the eastern side of Chikan Village. The vast grassland undulated in the breeze like green waves. Within the enclosure, more than a dozen spotted deer strolled leisurely under the sun, their antlers gleaming with a metallic luster. From the distant forest came the call of cuckoos, adding a sense of natural tranquility and vitality.

Kali stood by the wooden fence, wearing a coarse cloth shirt, holding a clipboard, his expression focused. While observing the movements of the deer herd, he explained to Wula standing beside him. Both wore straw hats. The ground beneath their feet was still slightly damp from the morning mist, producing a faint “creak” when stepped upon.

“Selecting deer with large velvet antlers, fast growth, and good quality as breeding deer is the first step.” Kali pointed toward a tall and robust stag. “Like that one—look at its antlers, symmetrical and thick, its posture stable. That is a very good breeding condition.”

Wula nodded, crouching down to carefully observe the stag’s gait. “I did not expect there to be such a great deal of knowledge in this.”

Kali smiled and placed his hand on Wula’s shoulder: “Actually, all of this comes from accumulated experience. Observe more, raise the deer as if they were your own children, and they will trust you like a friend. Only with health and stability can the herd reproduce well.”

Wula stood up, patted the dust off his body, and watched a doe licking her fawn on the grass. He sighed with feeling: “Once we learn this, we will not have to work so hard chasing deer in the wild anymore.”

“Exactly,” Kali casually plucked a banyan leaf from the fence and handed it to a nearby fawn. “Doing this can also allow our next generation to rely more steadily on the deer industry for their livelihood.”

In another enclosure not far away, Lalu and Yimeina were inspecting a doe about to give birth. Lalu gently soothed the doe, whose breathing was rapid, while holding Yimeina’s hand and guiding her observation.

“Look, this doe is close to seven months pregnant. Her belly is low, and the base of her ears is warm. These are signs that she is about to give birth.” Lalu crouched on the ground, lightly touching the doe’s abdomen. Her movements were gentle, her tone calm.

Yimeina frowned and asked: “Then what if she cannot give birth?”

“Then we must consider assistance or a cesarean section, but you should know that does that undergo human intervention are very likely to reject unfamiliar offspring.” Lalu stood up and patted Yimeina’s shoulder. “So we try as much as possible to let her give birth naturally. That way, the bond between mother and fawn will be deeper.”

“Then how can we reduce the chance of difficult labor?” Yimeina looked thoughtfully at other pregnant does on the grass, her tone showing the humility and curiosity of a beginner.

Lalu took Yimeina’s hand and led her slowly to an open area: “You are thinking well. First, the pregnant does must have enough space to move. If they exercise sufficiently before birth, the pelvis will not become stiff. Also, the feed must not be too rich; avoid excessive fatness. This way the pelvic muscles can contract properly, and the delivery will be smooth.”

Yimeina nodded and smiled: “I understand. It is the same principle as with humans—pregnant women must also exercise moderately to avoid difficult labor!”

Lalu tilted her head and looked at her, smiling: “Exactly, you have understood it well. The lives of animals and humans actually share many similarities.”

At this moment, a fawn curiously approached Yimeina and extended its tongue to lightly lick the hem of her skirt. Yimeina let out a soft exclamation and reached out to pat its head. Seeing this, Lalu nodded gently: “It already likes you.”

Sunlight fell upon the shoulders of the two women. Between the grassland and the deer herd, it seemed as though a new hope and the inheritance of skill were quietly taking shape.

83

In the afternoon, the small square in front of the Han medical clinic in Chikan Community was bathed in strong sunlight. A few sparrows chirped and hopped upon the racks of medicinal herbs, while Mount Drum in the distance was shrouded in a faint mist. An ox cart rumbled in, its wheel tracks stretching one after another along the gravel road.

An ox cart loaded with medicinal materials and bottles slowly came to a stop in front of the clinic. The ox panted, the ropes on its body still carrying traces of salty sea mist and sweat from the harbor. The driver was Ali, dressed in a coarse linen short jacket tinged with the smell of salt, with red marks still visible on his shoulders from hauling cargo at the port. He jumped down from the cart, pulled a letter from his chest fold, and strode toward Junsheng and Shayun, who were standing beneath the corridor pillar.

“Junsheng, Director Thomas asked me to deliver this letter to you. He said it’s from Holland.” Ali handed over the letter, his face still carrying a trace of travel-worn fatigue.

Junsheng reached out to take the letter and patted Ali on the shoulder. “Ali, you’ve worked hard. Thanks!”

Ali smiled. “The cart jolted so much along the way my back nearly broke, and two medicine jars even shattered. But everything you asked for has arrived.” He turned and climbed onto the cart, carefully unloading the heavy medicine bottles and jars, while calling toward the clinic, “Ula, Imena! Come out and help carry things!”

Two young assistants immediately ran out from the courtyard to help.

Junsheng opened the slightly damp letter. Along the edge of the envelope was still the red wax seal of the Dutch Governor’s Office. His expression gradually grew grave, and his brows furrowed into a deep crease. He lifted his head and looked toward Shayun. At that moment, she was sitting on a bench beneath the corridor, one hand resting on her slightly protruding abdomen, her face glowing with gentle warmth.

Junsheng spoke in a low voice, “Shayun… my mother wrote that my father’s condition is getting worse. He is now bedridden… She hopes I can return to see him one last time.”

Shayun was startled and turned to look at him, a trace of worry flashing instantly in her eyes. She stood up and gently took his hand.

“I will go back with you,” she said firmly. “I should also go back to see the elders.”

Junsheng shook his head and reached out to caress her cheek, his tone gentle and steady. “The sea voyage will take more than two months. The winds and waves are unpredictable… In your current condition, you cannot take that risk.”

Shayun lowered her head, her fingers lightly stroking her abdomen. After a moment of silence, she asked, “Then when will you depart?”

“As soon as possible, within these two or three days. This letter was probably brought by Andrew. His ship is returning, and I will take his ship back to Holland.”

Shayun nodded, trying her best to suppress her emotions. “Alright… I’ll help you prepare your luggage.”

The two stood beneath the old banyan tree in front of the clinic. The wind brushed through Shayun’s long hair, stirring the mottled light and shadows in the tree, falling upon their clasped hands. Shayun gently leaned her head against Junsheng’s shoulder, her voice so soft it was almost inaudible:

“After you go back… you must take good care of yourself, and… also say sorry to your parents for me.”

Junsheng held her in his arms, taking a deep breath. In his eyes flickered a barely perceptible worry and reluctance.

He knew that this was not merely a separation of a voyage, but perhaps also a turning point within the undercurrent of fate. And Shayun’s silence was like a quietly closing flower, containing within it unbloomed unknowns and deep affection.

In the distance, the ox let out a low “moo,” and the setting sun slowly slanted westward, stretching their shadows long upon the land of Chikan Community, inch by inch, gradually drifting farther apart.

84

At dawn, Anping Harbor was brushed by a gentle sea breeze carrying a faint salty scent, softly caressing every face. At the pier, several large wooden ships were moored along the shore. Their hulls swayed slightly, creaking in low tones, as if mourning the impending farewell. The seawater lapped against the sandy shore, the gentle waves shimmering in the morning light, as though bidding farewell to each traveler about to depart.

Shayun stood by the pier, surrounded by her maternal relatives and the leaders of the four communities. Everyone watched as Junsheng prepared to board the ship, their faces filled with reluctance to part. The clouds in the sky parted, and sunlight streamed through, casting a golden outline upon her face. Her hand tightly held her abdomen, as if soothing the unborn child, and also steadying the unease within her heart.

Junsheng walked toward Shayun and gazed deeply at her. The sea breeze lifted the hem of his clothing, his gaze firm yet tender.

He slid the golden ring from his finger and gently placed it onto Shayun’s finger. Then he removed the necklace from around his neck—the heart-shaped pendant held a photograph of him and Shayun together. The pendant glimmered faintly in the morning light, as if telling the story of every moment they had shared.

“On this trip back to Holland, after handling my father’s affairs, I will explain our marriage to my parents. I will return soon, before the child is born,” Junsheng said softly, his voice filled with reluctance and promise.

Shayun’s eyes reddened. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with deep tenderness and silent attachment. “I will wait here for you to come back.” Her voice was almost inaudible, yet heavy with emotion.

They embraced, and time seemed to freeze at that moment. Shayun gently wiped away the tears at the corner of her eyes, her heart filled with mixed emotions.

At that moment, Dabanya stepped forward and lightly patted Junsheng’s shoulder, her gaze full of concern and reluctance. “Junsheng, go early and return early. Don’t let Shayun worry about you,” she said, her tone carrying the deep care of a mother, her face showing faint worry.

Junsheng nodded, his gaze resolute. “I will, sena.” He gently caressed Shayun’s cheek, silently making a vow that this separation would not last long.

Beside them, Kali stepped forward, patting Junsheng’s shoulder. A rare seriousness and concern appeared on his face. “Brother, this place needs you, and Shayun needs you even more. Take good care of yourself.” His gaze carried deep camaraderie—words not only from a friend, but from a warrior to his companion.

Kali and Junsheng embraced briefly—a tacit farewell without words. Then Kali gently pushed him away, his gaze shifting toward the distant ship. “Go, brother. Take our blessings with you.”

“We’re setting sail, Junsheng!” In the distance, Andrew’s voice came from the ship as he waved.

Junsheng turned and cast one final, deep gaze upon every friend and family member standing at the pier. His heart surged with reluctance and longing, but he knew this was a path he had to walk. He strode toward the ship, yet kept turning back, his gaze moving between Shayun and the others, full of lingering attachment.

Shayun stood at the pier, watching him step by step toward the distant ship. Countless words filled her heart, yet all dissolved into a single long breath. She held her abdomen tightly and gently raised her hand to wave at him. Tears slid down, her eyes reddened, yet she dared not lower her head. She knew—he would return.

Lalu gently supported Shayun’s arm, feeling the slight tremor in her shoulders. “Shayun… he will come back,” she said softly, yet with firm certainty.

Shayun took a deep breath, holding back her tears, and nodded to her. She knew that no matter how far or how long, this love would guide Junsheng back to her side.

The ship slowly left the harbor. The shimmering sea reflected their parting figures, growing farther and farther away, until they faded into a small white point on the horizon.

85

This residence in Chikan Community was situated on a small hill surrounded by mountains. The environment was tranquil, broken only by occasional birdsong and the rustling of wind through the treetops. Inside the living room, neatly arranged bamboo furniture emitted the natural fragrance of wood. A rustic screen divided the space into two sections, decorated with exquisite embroidered tapestries and wooden carvings. Sunlight streamed in through the clear window panes, casting mottled patterns of light and shadow. The atmosphere within the room was both warm and quiet, like a serene painting.

Shayun sat in a corner of the living room. Soft sunlight fell upon her face, revealing a slightly melancholic expression. She gently stroked her slightly protruding abdomen, communicating with the unborn child. Her gaze appeared somewhat distant, as if recalling moments she had shared with Junsheng.

“Sena, I want to move to Dayuan Harbor and open a medical clinic,” Shayun said softly. There was a hint of longing and helplessness in her tone, yet a trace of determination shone in her eyes. “That way, I can go to the pier every day to wait for Junsheng to return.”

Dabanya, sitting across from her, raised her eyebrows slightly upon hearing this, a concerned smile appearing on her face. “Shayun, Junsheng has only been gone for a few days, and you already miss him this much?” Her tone carried a mix of helplessness and lightness, reminding her that the pain of separation was only temporary.

Shayun gave a bitter smile, lowered her head, and rubbed her abdomen, as if comforting herself, or trying to calm the restlessness within. “Yes, I know. But without him by my side, my heart feels empty.” She lifted her head, her gaze tinged with loss. “I think about him every day, wondering how he is doing now.”

At that moment, Li Qinghua sat upright on a bamboo chair nearby, a trace of worry in his expression. His hand rested lightly on the armrest, as if contemplating how to speak. “I understand how you feel, but you are now with child. Without anyone by your side to take care of you, if anything happens…” His voice was low, concern evident in his eyes. “Dabanya and I are both worried about you going there alone.”

Shayun shook her head gently, a faint smile forming on her lips as she tried to appear stronger. “Ali will accompany me. I will be fine.” She held Li Qinghua’s hand, her tone firm yet reassuring. “I know you are worried about me, but I truly want to go.”

Dabanya and Li Qinghua exchanged a glance. Their eyes were filled with reluctance and helplessness. Dabanya took a deep breath and then nodded slightly, her expression carrying a hint of resignation. She walked to Shayun’s side and gently placed her hand on her shoulder, her tone soft yet sincere. “Alright. Even if we can keep your person, we cannot keep your heart.” There was a sense of release in her words, yet also a subtle mixture of helplessness and blessing.

Shayun felt her care, her eyes glistening slightly with tears, and she nodded silently. “Thank you, sena,” she said softly, deeply grateful for those who had cared for her.

Dabanya gently patted Shayun’s back, then turned to look out at the mountain scenery beyond the window. Her voice was low yet firm. “I know you have made your decision, Shayun. Go, pursue your heart.” She smiled faintly, having accepted this unchangeable reality.

Li Qinghua, standing beside them, let out a deep sigh, still unable to hide his reluctance. “No matter what, remember to take care of yourself.”

Shayun gently held her abdomen, took a deep breath, and looked toward the friends and family around her. Her heart was filled with longing for Junsheng and hope for the future. She understood that this would be a difficult period, but she was willing to endure it for the sake of love and what lay ahead.