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The following morning, Zhao Changhe mounted Snow-Treading Crow and, alongside Yue Hongling, bid farewell to Sisi before heading north to Bashu.
Sisi did not accompany them far. She stopped at the northern edge of Erhai, unwilling to go further. This time, the farewell was not private but an official ceremony. Behind her stood the entire court of Dali, along with ceremonial guards and officials, sending off King Zhao in an official capacity.
As Zhao Changhe turned back for a final glance, he saw a sea of people standing solemnly on the grassland by the shore. The officials remained in their positions, hands clasped in formal bows, but Sisi stood apart, her figure quiet and unmoving, her gaze fixed on him. Amid the sea of bowed heads, she stood out like a crane among chickens.
The vast army, the sweeping coastline, the expanse of Erhai—all of it faded into the background. Only the girl’s tear-brimmed eyes remained, filled with an affection as deep as the ocean.
No one could reconcile the solemnity of this farewell with the playful seductiveness she had shown the night before.
She had been the first to willingly share him with another. Though it was said that Miao women were less reserved than Han women, it was clear that her...
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