PFC Chapter 373 The Nourishment of Ancient Nomadism
Chapter 373 The Nourishment of Ancient Nomadism
The young eunuch standing beside the carriage shaft, with a handsome face but dressed in a tight-fitting outfit stained with the night, spoke in a low voice, as if filtered by the night wind of the grassland: "Young lady, you are very perceptive. This place is called Hailar Ancient City, which is incomparable to the noisy world of mortals and merchants. Its roots are deeply embedded in the earth, drawing nourishment not only from a hundred years of time, but also from the ancient nomadic soul."
“Look at those city walls,” he pointed to the undulating outlines in the shadows, “the foundation formed from the remains of the previous dynasty. The fortress’s fierce aura and unyielding spirit, weathered by wind, frost, rain, and snow, remain as imposing as the spine of a lurking beast. As for that strange milky fragrance that wafts into your nostrils…” He took a deep breath, as if drawing upon some mysterious power, “It originates from the ancient tanning methods of the grasslands, using the milk fat of newborn lambs mixed with saltpeter under the moonlight, and further infused with secret medicine blessed by shamans. Thus, this leather can ward off evil and impurities, and its unique fragrance lingers. Compared to the fleeting beauty of Nanzhao and Lishui, every inch of sand and wind here is etched with the rugged true meaning of the frontier; compared to the throngs of tourists at Erhai Lake, the desolation here instead evokes a serene dialogue between the earth and the stars.”
Si Zi was filled with doubts: How did the splendor and prosperity of Chang'an lead him to the heart of this boundless grassland?
The carriage rumbled along, finally coming to a stop beneath a towering pagoda. The pagoda, seemingly carved from a single piece of black jade, or perhaps forged from the light of countless stars, was the Ciji Vajra Pagoda. The young man helped his son alight from the carriage and ascended to the top. The night wind rustled, carrying the whispers of the pastures and the lingering echoes of distant wolves' howls, ruffling their clothes. Leaning on the railing, they gazed into the distance and saw two jade ribbons flowing with moonlight and starlight—the Yimin River and the Hailar River—like silver ropes left behind by the gods to bind dragons, winding and coiling in the heart of the boundless, dark grassland, their ripples shimmering with what appeared to be shimmering scales.
“That gleaming white pagoda…” Sizi pointed to a pagoda temple radiating a soft glow in the night.
“My lady, that is the White Pagoda Temple,” the young man said respectfully, his words carrying a hint of mystery. “The enormous gilded prayer wheel in the temple is no ordinary object. Legend has it that it was blessed by eminent monks throughout the ages with their vows and is inscribed with secret mantras. If you turn it once with a devout heart, the power of the wheel can cleanse your mind of worldly dust and karmic obstacles, sending worldly worries to the Pure Land on the other shore with the vast sound of chanting. It also has the power to protect the peace and tranquility of the land.”
Si Zi nodded slightly, his gaze, as clear and cold as moonlight, sweeping over the slumbering ancient city beneath his feet: "Is this city... merely a place for chanting and burning incense?"
“No, no,” the young man’s eyes flashed with a sharp light, his voice lowered as if afraid of disturbing something slumbering beneath the earth, “This city is a place where hidden talents reside, and also a place sealed by time. In the shadowy alleys, the former site of the general’s office, which was of the level of the Northern Protectorate of the previous dynasty, lies dormant. Amidst the ruins, the chilling aura of war and the majestic spirit of the general have not dissipated for a hundred years, and ordinary people feel trembling when they approach it. Moreover…” He paused, his words as profound as an ancient well, “Legend has it that beneath it lies a vast ‘maze of earth veins’ left over from the previous dynasty. It is neither gold nor stone, but is forged from the yin energy extracted from the earth and the indomitable fighting spirit of the border guards. It is as deep as the abyss, and its scale is enough to hide a million soldiers. It is a hidden nexus protecting the dragon energy of the nation’s destiny.”
At that moment, a strange melody, accompanied by rough shouts, faintly drifted from an open area in the city. The music was desolate and distant, like a lone wolf howling at the moon, yet it also carried a strange rhythm that shook the earth, the drumbeats seeming to strike the very core of one's heart.
"Huh? This music... it sounds like the melody of a huqin, yet it also contains a wild power?" Si Zi listened intently.
The young man smiled broadly, exuding the boldness of a son of the grasslands: "Young lady, your hearing is exceptional! This is the soul of the grasslands—the Turkic morin khuur! Listen to this rhythm that shakes the stars! It is the families of the soldiers stationed in the city and the nomadic tribes who have lived here for generations, using the power of the moonlight to dance the 'Andai' soul-treading dance! This dance is not the melodious song of the court musicians, but an ancient ritual that communicates with the shamanic ancestral spirits and releases the vitality of life! The dance steps stomp the ground, echoing the pulse of the earth; the shouts rise and soar to the heavens, dispelling the cold of the long night."