Tiêu đề JWQS CH1 ✅

泾渭情殇 Jīng wèi qíng shāng - Clear and Muddy Loss of Love Author: 请君莫笑 Please Don’t Laugh Support the author | JWQS carrd Do not repost this translation anywhere else, do not share this as an epub. For better readability, use browser extension for dark mode or docs app for mobile. Chapter 1: And so, a beautiful girl was made a son White clouds drifted leisurely over the lush green grass that carpeted the earth. A wind blew past, rousing ripples of azure green. The sky seemed to be attentively washed over; it was a refreshing blue. A light after-rain fragrance unique to the grass plains suffused the air, filling one’s lungs. At the end of the sky, there was a line where blue and green met with soft curves and gentle dips. Among the endless azure green, clumps of white similar to cotton flowers moved slowly. A small group of rugged warriors of the grass plains were riding on handsome horses as they waved the whips in their hands, making resonant calls to herd the sheep. Suddenly, the distant drone of horse hooves could be heard. A vigorous group rushed out from the depths of the grass plains. A warrior dressed in animal pelts with his hair let loose rode at the very front of them. He wore a wide forehead ribbon on his head, and he had a full beard. He was
leaning forwards as he stood on the stirrups. There was a look of joy and urgency in his eyes; he gripped the reins with one hand while he whipped the horse with his other. “Go!” The man shouted, while the horse under him answered with a whinny. They gained more distance from the crowd behind them once again. The long mane of the handsome horse and the man’s freed hair danced in the wind. One man and one horse, filled with uninhibited free-spiritedness. A rider raced towards them from the other end. He dismounted from his horse several meters away, then he kneeled down on one knee. The man drew in the reins. The warriors following behind him stopped one after the other. Not a single person progressed for half a step more. “What is it?” The man’s voice boomed like a large bell, full of vitality. “Reporting the Khagan, the Khatun is giving birth!” The man’s black horse shot past the kneeling person like an arrow, and it continued to race ahead. There was clearly three days left before the witch doctor’s estimate. He had cleared out a small rebelling tribe at the quickest speed possible with his people, but despite hurrying back through day and night journey, he was still late. The man was unobstructed the entire way. Once he was outside of the big tent, he dismounted from his horse. The people of the grass plains gathered outside the tent, then they knelt on one knee and pressed their right fists to the middle of their chests: “Greetings to the Khagan.” Only six people bowed slightly forwards in courtesy as they called: “Khagan.”
Pained cries and shouts spread out from within the tent. A look of heartache unmatched to the man’s appearance flowed in his eyes. He came to the big tent’s entrance, but he was blocked by the witch doctor: “Khagan, the madam is currently delivering. You cannot go in.” The man had eyes like a tiger. His gaze turned as sharp as a sword in an instant. The witch doctor shuddered, then she backed to the side. The man snorted coldly as he stepped into the big tent. A shrill sound of wailing travelled over. The man flashed to the bedside: “Mei-zi, how are you?” (TN: 妹子 sister (younger) can be for family or in familiar/romantic sense) Seeing the person who came in, the woman tried hard to tug the corners of her lips. Wisps of her damp black hair stuck to her face, and her complexion was also ghastly pale. But despite her weak appearance, her spirit was shining within her clear eyes. The woman called quietly: “Khagan.” Apparent in just two words was a softness not from the grass plains. The man was too tall and built, so he simply kneeled on one knee by the bedside. He cupped the woman’s cheek, then he crudely wiped the sweat on her face away. Coarse fingers made a striking contrast on fine skin: “I came back late.” “Khagan, are they a boy or a girl?” The man swept a brief look over, then he answered: “A boy. Our first child is a boy.”
The woman bloomed with a smile of great relief, then she closed her eyes weakly. The man was startled at first. He checked her breathing, then he calmed back down. He pulled the beast pelt blanket up for her. The midwife trembled as she bathed the infant, thinking: this is clearly a girl. Why did he say that she is a boy? The midwife wrapped the child up properly once she was done cleaning her, then she gave her to the man. Startled by his cold gaze, she hung her head down as she silently backed to the side. The man held the swaddled baby in one hand. He parted the cloth, took a look, then he wrapped the infant’s lower body tightly with the beast pelt, leaving only her flat and tender chest exposed. Prickled by the beast pelt on her father’s body, the infant wailed incessantly. “Witch doctor!” The witch doctor kneeled before the man while holding a ten-inch golden needle: “This lowly one is here.” “The wolf king tattoo.” “Understood.” The infant wailed louder as bead after bead of blood appeared on her chest. A trace of heartache slid past the man’s eyes. Branding a tattoo on the infant’s body was a necessary custom for the people of the grass plains, but as a father, he could not avoid feeling pain in his heart. However, he could only pacify crudely: “A warrior of the grass plains sheds blood, not tears. Do not cry.” How could a small infant understand her father’s words? She wailed even louder.