The Adventures of Wang Peng and Pi Lin

Chang'an, April 5, 200, Dawn

Lavender-pink clouds contrasted the dark violet sky as they reflected the sun's not yet visible glow. Wind buffeted the crisp, spring air at the exposed areas of my face that my scarf failed to protect. Luckily, my armor kept me pretty warm, but it was still heavy to carry around. I looked away from the sky and turned towards the carts and camels. I watched the others in my caravan load the carts with food, blankets, water, silk, paper, and other goods. I watched hungrily as the merchant loaded a pallet of oranges onto the cart. We wouldn't be allowed to eat anything we needed to trade, but if I was careful, I might be able to make some oranges...disappear unnoticed. The merchant saw me eying his cargo and glared daggers as me. I immediately looked away and felt shivers down my spine. I guess I don't need any oranges. I pulled out my map to see which cities we would be traveling to. Dunhuang. Taklimaka Desert. Marakanda. Antioch. All places I have only heard of from other, braver soldiers who had ventured out beyond the protected borders. What did they see out there? What would I see out there? I hoped there would be an absence of bandits, mosquitoes, spiders, snakes, and, well, anything scary. I have always jumped at the mention of anything threatening, but my father was a soldier, so my fate had been sealed long before I could decide what to fear. In only a few months, we were expected to travel roughly 1000 miles while dragging along cargo and camels! I took a worried glance at my water skin. Would we have enough water? Enough food? Enough-

"Hey!"

I flinched at the sudden sound and searched for the source of the voice. As I was turning my head, a slap on the shoulder startled me.

"You ready, Pi Lin?" he questioned. I gave him a weak grin. He slung his arm around my shoulder and smiled, "Aww, Come on. Don't look so down, this is going to be great! Traveling, sight-seeing, and food...eating! I can't wait to see all the pies. I am going to learn all these new recipes and be," he mimed a large arch with his hands, "China's Best Baker!"

I laughed at his antics. Wang Peng (Wung-Pung) always seemed to know the perfect way to cheer me up. My worries from before were gone. "Yeah. You really do love your pies, but what about the people in Dunhuang and Marakanda? Do you think they will like them?" I teased.

"Absolutely!" he promised as he pointed a finger at me. "Everyone loves my pies. Always. Even you." He bragged. I laughed again and agreed with him. He really knew his stuff when it came to pies.

We talked for a while after that, but we had to leave soon. Our conversation was cut off when the caravan leader announced our departure. I turned to look at the city, my hometown, and turned back around. I would see it again in a year, that is, if I was lucky, and I was never lucky.