Chapter 8: New Sanctuary

Wuyi stepped into another realm—a nocturnal sanctuary where creatures of the barn shifted and exhaled softly in their stalls. Desert hounds lifted their heads to assess him, their eyes glowing amber in the dim lantern light. Horses too stirred in their enclosures as they walked by. "Dragons are at the far end," Boluo mentioned, as if imparting knowledge he felt Wuyi should possess. For a second, Wuyi shivered, then realized Boluo was just joking.

"We'll stop here," Boluo finally announced. "For now, this should suffice. I'm baffled about what else to do with you. I'd consider this a divine joke played on me if I have to be responsible for you."

Wuyi stayed quiet. What could he say?

Boluo spoke again, "Here, Haowen, shift over. Make room in the straw for the boy. Yes, lie next to Qingbi. She'll welcome you and keep any troublemakers at bay."

Wuyi realized Boluo was talking to the desert hounds as if he was talking to humans.

In front of Wuyi was a spacious stall filled with three desert hounds. Their tails thumped in anticipation as they picked up on Boluo's scent. Wuyi hesitated briefly before lying next to an elderly female desert hound with a graying muzzle and a missing ear.

Boluo asked Wuyi to lie down near the hounds. At first, Wuyi found it strange, but he later realized this was Boluo's way of showing care. These hounds were Boluo's most precious companions and most trusted friends. By placing Wuyi among them, he was ensuring Wuyi would be amply protected.

The mature male desert hound looked skeptical, but the youngest—a hound named Haowen—greeted him warmly with licks and playful nips. Initially, Wuyi was afraid, but when he felt the hounds' friendliness through the statue, he realized there was nothing to worry about. So he curled his arm around the pup to calm him down, then nestled amongst them, just as Boluo had advised. Boluo threw a heavy, horse-scented blanket over him.

A large desert horse in the adjacent stall stirred, thumping its hooves and craning its neck over the stall partition to see what was happening. Boluo soothed the creature with a gentle touch.

"We're all making do at this frontier post. You'll find the Lujingbao Fortress more welcoming if they decide to send you there. I only wish they don't make me go back. But tonight, you're safe and warm here," Boluo mused, lingering for a moment longer. "Horses, beasts, falcons, hounds—I've taken care of them all for many years, and done so with diligence. But this unexpected child; I'm at a loss."

Wuyi knew Boluo wasn't speaking to him. He watched him through the edge of the blanket as he unhooked the lantern and ambled away, talking to himself.

Wuyi vividly recalled that first night—the comforting warmth of the hounds, the prickly straw, and the slumber that eventually enveloped him as Haowen snuggled close.

The statue had recharged again. Wuyi felt a momentary fear after Boluo left. What if the hounds changed their minds and tried to hurt him? He tried to gauge the thoughts of the three hounds; they were all suspicious of him, but as far as their emotions went, none planned to hurt him.

Using the power of the statue, Wuyi sent them a feeling that conveyed he was trustworthy. He saw the beasts change their attitude towards him by wagging their tails. Even in his dreams, Wuyi could feel the power of the statue affecting the desert hounds. These hounds were simple creatures, and unlike humans, their emotions were straightforward.

And so began Wuyi's life in the stables. It didn't last long, but those were fun days for him. In the desert, summer or winter didn't matter. Days were dry and sandy, while nights were cold. The first thing Wuyi did was learn his way from his quarters to the communal kitchen. With his mother and grandfather, food had always been limited; here, he could eat as much as he pleased.

He had the freedom to roam there as he wished. Occasionally, a chef would be present, placing slabs of meat on the fire or kneading dough for mantou buns or tapping into a barrel of wine. More often, the kitchen was empty, and Wuyi would help himself to whatever was laid out on the table. Haowen, the desert hound pup, quickly became his inseparable companion, and they shared their spoils.

Warriors came and went in the communal kitchen, consuming meals and drinks, eyeing Wuyi with an inquisitive gaze that he soon considered commonplace. They all had a uniformity about them—clad in coarse linen robes and loose pants, bearing a warrior emblem embroidered near their hearts. Wuyi's presence seemed to unsettle a few, and he grew used to the murmurs that would start the moment he stepped out of the kitchen.

Boluo remained a steady figure in his life, tending to him with the same diligence he offered to beasts and creatures. Wuyi was fed, hydrated, and groomed—usually by trotting along beside Boluo as he attended to his other responsibilities.

Learning from Boluo, he preferred the company of hounds and horses over humans. His favorite pup, Haowen, would play and wrestle with him either in the courtyard or within the straw-laden stalls.

He was in awe of these desert hounds. Covered in dense, bristle-like fur that shielded them from the sun's relentless rays and desert sand, these hounds were a sight to behold. Their fur, a blend of dark charcoal and tawny shades, mimicked the ever-changing hues of the desert landscape, offering them uncanny camouflage. Their eyes were piercing amber, almost glowing in the dim desert twilight, intelligent and alert. Large, pointed ears allowed these hounds to swivel independently like radar dishes, honing in on distant sounds—be it the scuttle of a sand-dwelling creature or the whispering winds that spoke of an approaching sandstorm.

Their jaws were powerful, lined with teeth designed to grip and not let go. A lean musculature lay beneath their fur, honed from running down prey across endless dunes. When they moved, it was with a kind of liquid grace—every step calculated, every leap and bound a testament to their lethal capabilities.