"Rong!"
Dugu Rong was slightly surprised and, turning around, saw Ardashir crossing the bookshop.
She couldn't help but smile gently: "Gönok King? How did you find me?"
Ardashir shook his head to correct her: "I've already told you, just call me Ardashir. It was Brother Zijing who told me you were here."
Dugu Rong's gesture, as she was choosing a book, paused: "Mmm. Miss, she, has been confined by the young master. That's why she specially asked me to come and choose some books for her to pass the time."
Ardashir was surprised for a moment, then raised an eyebrow, asking with a hint of incomprehension: "Are you not a young lady of the Grand Tutor's residence?"
Dugu Rong let out a slight laugh and shook her head. Her fingers gently brushed the cover of a scroll, as if she were considering how to express herself: "No. I was sold to the Grand Tutor's residence at a very young age. The Grand Tutor and his wife probably thought that Miss and I were about the same age, so they appointed me as her maidservant. However, Miss has never treated me as an inferior, she has always been very good to me, like a sister."
Ardashir, listening, stroked his chin and nodded thoughtfully: "To be able to wear such a refined gold hairpin, your mistress must certainly be a person of high rank."
Dugu Rong lifted her head, met his serious gaze, and couldn't help but blush slightly. She lowered her head and said softly: "How can I thank you? Do you like to read? Let me offer you a book!"
Ardashir burst out laughing: "Perfect! I may not understand very well, but you can help me choose a few that would suit me."
Dugu Rong thought for a moment, took a handwritten book from the table, her fingers gently brushing the cover of the scroll, as if to weigh its contents, or as if to confidently validate her own recommendation. She lifted her head and smiled: "Take this Qieyun (Book of Rhymes). It is classified by pronunciation and by rhyme, it's the best thing for learning to read characters."
Ardashir took the book, flipped through a few pages, his fingers brushing the dense Chinese characters, a sudden gleam of understanding shining in his eyes: "Ah, this book is like our Frahang-i Pahlavig."
"What is that?"
"A dictionary," said Ardashir with a hint of pride in his voice. "It explains Avestan characters in the Gönok language. Where I come from, most people speak several languages. For rites, one language is used, for daily conversation, another, and people from different regions do not speak the same way."
Listening, Dugu Rong showed a certain admiration and asked thoughtfully: "And you? How many languages do you speak?"
Ardashir counted seriously on his fingers: "...In all, I must speak seven or eight."
"That's incredible! How did you learn so many languages?"
"It's by traveling long roads, learning little by little, slowly," he said. Then, lowering his eyes to the books she was holding, he leaned over to take a few. "Are these the books you chose? Let me help you carry them."
"Thank you very much!" replied Dugu Rong, smiling and nodding.
"I hope I didn't disturb you in your choice of books?" Ardashir asked with a slightly teasing tone, but tinged with a certain caution.
"No, in fact, I was almost finished." Dugu Rong pointed to the few remaining books on the table. "These are a few new stories of fantastic legends, and also some books for amusement, it's quite interesting."
"Fantastic legends? Are they stories of monsters?" Ardashir's eyes lit up. "Then, when you've finished reading them, you absolutely must tell them to me!"
Dugu Rong couldn't help but laugh. She took a few books and was about to go pay when the owner of the bookshop stopped them. The latter had been observing Ardashir and his foreign attire for a while. Now, he looked embarrassed and, after a moment's hesitation, finally said: "Miss, Sir, I am truly sorry... The government has issued regulations stating that barbarians from the borderlands can only buy books and other such items in designated shops. My modest establishment... unfortunately cannot sell them to you."
The owner's words cast a chill. Ardashir lowered his eyes to the pages of the book he was holding open, his fingers stroking the paper, his expression tinged with a certain resignation. He let out a slight sigh, his tone calm but unable to conceal his disappointment: "I only knew there were such rules for silk and porcelain, I didn't think it also applied to books."
Hearing this, Dugu Rong frowned, turned to the owner, her tone tinged with a certain displeasure: "It is I who am buying them to offer to this gentleman, that too is not allowed?"
The owner waved his hands repeatedly, looking flustered: "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, these are really the regulations, please excuse us both."
Ardashir lifted his head and smiled at Dugu Rong.
Dugu Rong, however, had no intention of giving up so easily. She lowered her eyes to the Qieyun, and a gleam suddenly shone in her gaze: "Ardashir, let's do this: I will find the time to copy a manuscript for you, what do you say?"
Ardashir was surprised for a moment, his eyes shining with a joy mixed with hesitation: "Copy by hand? That's a long and tedious job."
Dugu Rong waved her hand, her smile light and playful: "This little bit of copying, what problem would that be?"
"This time, I owe you a great debt," said Ardashir, smiling.
They exchanged a look and began to laugh at the same time. The embarrassing atmosphere was broken. The owner of the bookshop, seeing this, also let out a sigh of relief, carefully wrapped the books Dugu Rong had chosen, and handed them to her.
Exiting the bookshop, Ardashir took the books she was holding and proposed himself: "Let me escort you! With all these things, it's not convenient for you to carry them alone."
"Aren't you busy today?" Dugu Rong asked with a smile.
"Not at all," replied Ardashir, shaking his head. "You bought so many things, I can't let you carry them alone. You don't find me boring, do you?"
Dugu Rong smiled: "How could I? Only, it's still a bit of a walk home."
"Walking is pleasant. I like to watch the people in the street. The clothes of the inhabitants of Jinxiujing are truly refined. One of these days, I'll try wearing some too." Ardashir lowered his eyes to his own casual attire, touched his messy curly hair, and said in a teasing tone: "It's probably because of my too-conspicuous hair that the boss didn't want to sell us his goods. Perhaps with another outfit, they wouldn't refuse anymore."
Dugu Rong covered her mouth to stifle a slight laugh: "Then, another day, I will accompany you to choose clothes."
Ardashir, as if suddenly remembering something, tilted his head and asked: "Oh, by the way, are you thirsty? There must be fresh fruit arrived today in the street, let me offer you some."
Dugu Rong was surprised for a moment, then smiled: "How do you even know the fruit arrived today?"
Ardashir proudly lifted his head, his smile tinged with a certain mischievousness: "And how! More than half of the borderland merchants in Jinxiujing are my friends, my information is naturally very reliable."
While talking and laughing, they crossed the market. Ardashir caught sight of another borderland man from afar, older and with graying hair, who exclaimed in a loud voice:
"ای پادشاهِ من، این دخترِ کِنارتان کیست؟"
(Translation: My king! Who is this young lady beside you?)
"ایشان دوستِ جدیدِ من هستند! خیلی فوقالعاده هستند؛ ایشان سواد دارند و کتاب خواندن را هم بسیار دوست دارند."
(Translation: This is a new friend I've made! She is formidable; she knows how to read and loves books very much.)
Although Dugu Rong did not understand what he was saying, she could hear in Ardashir's voice an unconcealed pride, as if he were presenting a distinguished guest.
Ardashir led Dugu Rong to the borderland fruit stall. The stall was covered with multicolored fruits of various shapes, exuding a tantalizing fragrance. The merchant, a middle-aged man with a bushy beard, enthusiastically came forward to meet Ardashir, gesticulating and presenting the fruits on his stall in a flood of words unintelligible to Dugu Rong, in a language she had never heard.
Dugu Rong stood stunned, her gaze going from the merchant to the fruits, trying to guess the meaning of his gestures and expressions. She tilted her head slightly and asked Ardashir: "What is he saying?"
Ardashir smiled with a detached air, nonchalantly took a bunch of translucent grapes from the stall, held it up to the sunlight. The grapes shone with an appetizing luster. He turned to Dugu Rong, waved his hand as if to boast, then turned back and engaged in conversation with the merchant in fluent Gönok. The merchant nodded repeatedly, his face radiant with enthusiasm, pointing to the various fruits on his stall and presenting them volubly.
Dugu Rong, standing beside them, understood nothing, merely watching them discuss animatedly, her face expressing a mixture of perplexity and unconcealed curiosity. She tried hard to find clues in the merchant's gestures and expressions, but still couldn't guess what they were saying.
Ardashir finally interrupted his conversation, turned around and, seeing her so perplexed, couldn't help but laugh softly. In a playful tone, he asked: "Walnuts, desert jujubes, sweet melons, and grapes. What would you like to taste?"
Dugu Rong blinked, her gaze sweeping over the multicolored fruits on the stall, her eyebrows slightly furrowed, as if she were seriously considering. A moment later, however, she lifted her head and, sketching a slight smile, said: "Actually, I don't know..."
Ardashir shook his head, a smile on his lips, and turned back to continue talking with the merchant. His voice was imbued with a frank cordiality, as if he were chatting with an old friend. The merchant spoke, pointing to the fruits he held, while Ardashir listened attentively, turning from time to time to explain: "These desert jujubes have just arrived from the Western Regions, their taste is melting; this sweet melon is very fragrant, a single bite is enough to know; as for the grapes, they have been dried just right, they are so juicy they're dripping."
Dugu Rong, watching him speak with such ease, gradually let a certain curiosity and admiration show. When Ardashir had finished his enthusiastic presentation, Dugu Rong couldn't help but tease him with a smile: "After all you've said, I have the impression that it's rather the merchant who has been confused by your words."
Ardashir let out a small laugh and took out a few silver coins which he handed to the merchant. The latter quickly wrapped the chosen fruits in an immaculate white cloth and handed them to Dugu Rong with both hands. Ardashir put a few grapes in her hand and, while walking, said: "No, no, he was just telling me how these fruits had arrived from the Western Regions to Jinxiujing. On the way, they not only encountered some trouble, but also had quite a few interesting adventures."
Dugu Rong took the grapes and, while walking, bit into one. The sweet juice spread in her mouth. She turned her head towards Ardashir and asked with a smile: "Usually, do you often come here to discuss these things with him?"
Ardashir nodded very seriously, his smile tinged with a certain mischievousness: "Of course! I could spend the whole day here discussing with him."
Suddenly, a tall, thin borderland man slowly entered between the stalls from the market entrance. His figure was straight, his face severe, his gait imbued with a certain arrogance. The usually bustling market immediately became much quieter at his appearance. Passersby moved aside, several merchants casting worried glances at him from the corner of their eyes, obvious mistrust and hostility in their eyes.
This borderland man crossed the crowd without looking at anyone and headed straight for Ardashir. Once stopped, he bowed slightly, one hand on his chest, as if in salute. But his tone was tinged with a certain provocation: "ای پادشاهِ من"
(Translation: My king.)
Ardashir lifted his head, his face wearing its usual affable smile, and replied:
"?روز بخیر، عمو ابراهیم"
(Translation: Greetings, Uncle Arakhan.)
The tall, thin man squinted, his gaze falling on Dugu Rong who was standing beside Ardashir, and said coldly:
"چطور شما یک دخترِ شویی را به اینجا آوردهاید؟"
(Translation: How is it that you have brought a woman from the Xu kingdom here?)
Ardashir's smile remained on his lips, but his gaze darkened slightly. His tone, calm but brooking no argument, was:
"ایشان دوست من هستند و من احترام بسیاری برایشان قائلم. تو هم بهتر است هرچه زودتر از اینجا بروی، چون به نظر میرسد که اینجا چندان محبوبیتی نداری.."
(Translation: She is my friend, and I respect her very much. You had better leave quickly, I get the impression you are not very popular here.)
Hearing this, the tall, thin man swept Dugu Rong with his gaze, then returned his attention to Ardashir's face, as if to probe his resolution. A moment later, a sardonic smile appeared on his lips. He bowed slightly again and said in a cold voice:
"تا دیدارِ بعد"
(Translation: Until next time.)
With that, Arakhan turned on his heel and left.
Dugu Rong had absolutely no idea what had just happened; the look that man had given her was truly strange. Ardashir explained it to her.
Ardashir smiled slightly: "He was originally one of my uncles, but he then became a Gönok who no longer believes in the Sacred Fire. For us, this is a very serious matter. That's why some people don't like him."
Dugu Rong widened her eyes slightly and nodded with a half-understanding air. Ardashir's answer seemed simple, but it made her feel the abyssal distance that separated her life from that of Jinxiujing.
Ardashir, seeing her thoughtful expression, changed the subject: "But he's not a bad person, he simply chose a different path."
Dugu Rong looked up at his calm and usual smile and ended up asking no more questions.
They picked up the books and fruits they had just bought and retraced their steps along the bustling streets. On the way, Ardashir would occasionally point to the small stalls along the roadside, enthusiastically presenting to Dugu Rong the specialties of the borderland merchants, his tone imbued with an almost childlike excitement. Dugu Rong replied with a smile, sometimes teasing him with a few words.
All along the way, their laughter rang out, their steps were light. The noise of the street gradually faded as the street opened onto a somewhat quieter alley. Ardashir suddenly began to hum a song in the borderland language, the melody broad and drawn out, evoking the immensity and freedom of the desert:
"عطرِ خاک، چون آن را بالش سازی، غم از یاد برود...."
Dugu Rong slowed her pace, listening with a certain fascination. She turned her head towards Ardashir, her eyes full of curiosity: "What does this song mean?"
Ardashir stopped, contemplating the street bathed in moonlight, and explained with a smile: "It's a tune I heard in the desert. The lyrics mean that if one lies down on the earth and breathes its scent, one immediately forgets all one's worries. The earth allows one to find a sense of belonging, and also to forget one's troubles."
Dugu Rong was slightly surprised, then, a moment later, nodded in admiration: "That's very beautiful."
Ardashir lowered his head with a smile, without replying directly, merely tapping lightly the bag of fruit he was holding: "These fruits must have also traveled these places. By eating them, you will also be able to feel these sensations."
When the main gate of the Grand Tutor's residence came into view, Dugu Rong stopped, turned to Ardashir, and said in a playful tone: "Today, you have really gone to a lot of trouble, thank you very much."
Ardashir, holding the books and fruits, wore his usual smile: "What trouble? Walking with you is the best journey one can make in Jinxiujing."
Dugu Rong smiled slightly, her figure disappearing behind the vermilion-lacquered gate. Ardashir watched the gate slowly close, his smile not fading. He turned and walked deeper into the street, as if he had already left behind the shadows of the previous moment.
The night was deep. The moonlight poured onto the walls of the Fire Temple, casting the dappled shadows of the fruit trees there. Ardashir pushed the heavy wooden door and slowly entered the temple. The flames danced on the altar, illuminating Razmir's silhouette. He stood near the altar, arranging a parchment scroll, his beard shining with a reddish reflection in the firelight.
"My king, you have returned," Razmir said, turning around, his voice low but tinged with a certain warmth. "Did you go to the market today? What did you do?"
Ardashir hung the cloak he was holding on the wall, a weary smile on his face: "A day of strolling with a friend, very pleasant. And you? What did you do all day?"
Razmir's eyebrows furrowed slightly. After a moment's thought, he spoke slowly: "Today, Arakhan also went to the market."
Hearing this name, Ardashir's smile faded somewhat, a barely perceptible hint of displeasure on his features. "You too, you know?"
Razmir sighed, rolled up the parchment, and put it aside. In a low voice, he said: "News has arrived. He recently had weapons secretly made at the blacksmith's. He is rallying those Gönoks converted to Nestorianism, their numbers are constantly increasing. I don't know exactly what he's plotting, but it doesn't bode well."
Ardashir remained silent for a moment, his eyebrows slightly furrowed: "So what?"
Razmir looked up at Ardashir, his gaze filled with deep worry and a certain reproach. He approached slowly, his tone becoming more grave: "Ardashir, you have been staying in Jinxiujing for too long. Perhaps you have become accustomed to its prosperity and gentle way of life, but do not forget that Gönok is waiting for you to save it."
"Save?" Ardashir lifted his head towards Razmir, his gaze betraying a certain bewilderment and latent displeasure. "You always mention this word, but until now, I still don't know what this so-called salvation really means."
Razmir remained silent for a moment, walked over to the altar, his gaze fixed on the Sacred Fire that burned ardently. His voice was low and firm: "To save the land of King Iskandar, his people, the faith of the Fire and its hearths. Such is the soul of the Gönoks. What exactly does the emperor of the Xu kingdom mean? This land that Iskandar wanted to reach at the cost of a thousand sufferings, is this man truly trustworthy?"
"He didn't push me away. He said he was very interested in the trade route to the west. He is willing to help us, but he also needs time to prepare."
"Let's hope he keeps his word."
After saying this, Razmir did not elaborate further, turned his back to the altar bathed in light, and his figure disappeared at the end of the long corridor.
The great hall suddenly became silent; only the slight crackling of the Sacred Fire could be heard. Ardashir approached the altar, knelt on one knee, his gaze fixed on the flames.
He prayed in a low voice, trying to find answers in the firelight. The dancing flame, reflected in his pupils, seemed to answer him.
"Save..." Ardashir murmured to himself, his voice lost in the silence of the night. He closed his eyes.
In that instant, he seemed to be standing at the crossroads of two worlds, both torn and unable to escape.