In less than half a day, the migrating tribe walked out of the snowfield and entered a sandy highland. In front of them were endless hills. The undulating land was empty, and the sheep were crowded together, bleating non-stop, which added some vitality to the boring journey.
The herd of oxen moved slowly. From time to time, they would squeeze into the herd of horses. Apparently, the horses didn't want to mingle with these slow-witted animals. The ponies kicked their hind legs and ran away. The Wrangler madly urged his horse to chase after them. The Wrangler's whip cracked loudly, and the disobedient ponies were blown back.
The camel was the most undisciplined animal in the procession. When it saw a bunch of hay as thick as a finger sticking out of the gravel, it would stop to chew and swallow it slowly. No matter how hard you chased it, it would not budge, so the procession became longer and longer.
Yang Fan's group was not far from the Khitan group. They were separated by a row of chariots. Along the way, the Khitan people stared at them with resentment, but they did not rush over to fight again. More than ten of them were defeated by one and a half people, which was really embarrassing. How could they have the courage to go forward and fight again?
Yang Fan was riding a camel, probably a camel. It was tall, with two humps on the front and the back. The soft leather mattress in the middle made him sit comfortably.
Maqiao was riding an old horse next to Yang Fan. For some reason, the camel under Yang Fan liked the dog fur hat on Maqiao's head. From time to time, it would twist its neck and bite Maqiao's head, making Maqiao cover his hat to avoid it.
Gu Zhuting, who was walking on the other side of Yang Fan, was also riding a camel. She was much more experienced in the desert than Yang Fan and Maqiao. When she heard that they were going to change places, she armed herself with all the things that could keep her warm.
Because she was wearing too thick clothes, her neck was stuck. She could only stand straight, and could not even nod or shake her head. If she wanted to turn around to see what was going on behind her, she had to turn her whole body around.
However, she was the warmest one in the group. Along the way, Yang Fan and Maqiao's faces were a little blue, but she still looked as usual.
The clouds changed shapes in the sky, but they were always white. The cliffs under their feet kept changing, but they were always the same stones and sand. The initially vast and shocking feeling of the wilderness gradually disappeared, leaving only a feeling of dullness, endless dullness. They just wanted to fall asleep. The Khitan people's eyes that stared at Yang Fan and the others also became powerless.
The day's journey ended in boredom. There were many temporary triangular yurts in front of them. Yang Fan looked at the sunset in the sky and was surprised by the judgment of the herdsmen on the grassland. The herdsmen in the front rode fast on their horses and could accurately estimate the distance that a large group of people could cover in a day.
When the herders saw the camp, they immediately cheered. They rushed into the camp excitedly and began to untie the camels, unpack the parcels, set up the stove, let out some fresh air, and solve their personal problems …
The stove was soon lit, and the tin basin was put on the fire. After the bumpy journey, the basin was full of dust, dead branches, and cow hair. Yang Fan was very curious about what these herders were going to use to clean it, but they did not wash it at all. They directly poured snow and ice into it.
Large pieces of snow and ice were put into the pot and began to melt into water. Many people who were too thirsty did not wait for the snow and ice to completely melt. They grabbed a piece and put it in their mouth. Because the weather was too cold, the water in their water bags had long been frozen into ice. They could only drink water when the fire was lit.
The people behind arrived one after another. Seeing the smoke rising from the camp, they sang happily, praising the greatness of the gods, who protected them, gave them food, and let them survive.
If one did not consider their savagery when invading other tribes, Yang Fan actually admired their optimistic spirit and tenacious will to survive in such a harsh environment.
A group of people came and stopped in front of the yurts of Yang Fan and the others. It seemed that they were going to set up camp here. From their clothes and the bright camels and horses, they seemed to be a noble Turkic family. Yang Fan did not pay them any mind. He only gave them a casual glance before looking elsewhere.
"Ah!"
Maqiao, who had been staring at the uncooked mutton for a long time and wiping his mouth, walked back to Yang Fan's side, suddenly let out a strange cry. Yang Fan, who had just thought of two lines of a poem to satisfy his craving as a poet at the frontier fortress, was startled and instantly forgot the poem that was on the tip of his tongue.
Yang Fan glared at him unhappily and said: "You are already a father, do you need to be surprised?"
Maqiao pointed to a person in the distance and was tongue-tied. Yang Fan subconsciously turned his head and saw Gu Zhuting standing on the sand dune with a surprised expression. Then, Yang Fan's expression also froze.
He saw himself and another 'Yang Fan' not far away. 'Yang Fan' was wearing a fat fur coat and was kicking off the felt tube on his feet. The felt tube was fat and round and could not be worn when walking. However, when riding on a horse, wearing it could be a good way to keep warm and prevent the lower limbs from freezing.
Soon, the horror on Gu Zhuting and Maqiao's faces turned into surprise. They had already discovered the difference between the two Yang Fan. That Yang Fan was fatter than the Yang Fan they knew, and his face was also older. The real Yang Fan was still a heroic young man, but that person's face was already a little bloated.
Most importantly, that Yang Fan had a green beard under his chin. The beard was not long but extended from his chin to his temples. Yang Fan was less than twenty-eight years old and had not grown a beard. Even if he did have a beard, it would not be as thick as this person's.
"Musi!"
Yang Fan, who had once pretended to be him, immediately recognized who this person was.
In the Turks and the Tibetans, he had used his similar appearance to Musi to sow discord. On the Turks' side, he had forced the newly ascended Moche to withdraw his one hundred thousand troops that were advancing on Lingwu. More than twenty thousand of his men were killed by the Tang army and Moche had to expend a great deal of effort to unify the Turkic tribes.
And on the Tibetans' side, his actions did not seem to have much effect, but the consequences had continued to this day. The Tibetans did not interfere much with the Tang's recovery of the Four Garrisons of Anxi because their internal struggles for power were getting more and more serious and they were in constant internal strife. It was also for this reason that the Tibetans did not take advantage of the situation.
And the reason why Yang Fan was able to do all this was because he looked exactly like Musi and could pass off the fake as the real one. Who would have thought that he would meet this person again today? However, in just a few years, Ashina Musi had undergone a great change. At a glance, he looked exactly the same as Yang Fan, but he could no longer withstand a detailed comparison. It was impossible for the current Yang Fan to pretend to be him.
Musi kicked off the blanket, and immediately a slave ran over and eagerly picked it up for him. Musi took out a wine pouch from his bosom, drank a few mouthfuls like a drunkard, and hurriedly put it back. He turned to a carriage, opened the door, and helped a woman out.
At this time, a gentle smile appeared on his face, a smile that only a man would have when facing a woman. A woman slowly walked out of the carriage. The moment Yang Fan saw her, his gaze froze, and then he subconsciously avoided her, only glancing at them out of the corner of his eyes.
The woman was wearing a Turkic-style robe. Because she had been in the carriage all the way, she did not wear too much. Her slender waist was tightly bound by a wide belt, and her pair of tight and slender legs were wrapped by long leather boots under the robe. It was still possible to see her slim waist and slender legs, which were unusually graceful.
She wore a warm hat on her head, with a circle of white fox fur on the brim, which set off her beautiful face like a beautiful white lotus. Compared to her former self, there was less unruly wildness in her demeanor, and more charm of a mature woman.
It was really her, Mu Heyue!
This young woman in her twenties still had delicate and lovely facial features, and her pink lips still revealed a beautiful and attractive curve. Because of the exhaustion caused by the long journey, she looked a little lazy. She seemed to know that her husband was secretly drinking, and with a coquettish look, she seemed to say something to him.
Mu Si did not speak, but only grinned. Mu Heyue rolled her eyes at him again, and turned around to carry a child from the carriage. The child was at the age of learning to walk, and as soon as he was carried out of the carriage, he struggled to get off the ground. Mu Heyue had to put him on the ground, and held his hand.
The little guy stubbornly took a moonwalk, wanting to take a walk. Seeing this, Mu Si could only helplessly smile, and lovingly pinched his son's cheek. After giving a few words to his wife, she bent down and entered the low tent.
This was a simple tent for temporary accommodation during the transition. Even though he was the Khan's son and the son-in-law of the Munn Kingdom's Great Yabgu, his tent was not much bigger than others. At most, it was a little cleaner, and the fur used for the bedding was a little more expensive.
Seeing that Mu Si was using hand gestures to help her speak, Yang Fan knew that his throat injury had not healed.
The current Mu Si had long lost his high spirits, and this had a lot to do with it.
Because of his throat injury, and the fact that his brothers were all strong competitors, he must have lost the chance to compete for the throne. Even because of his throat injury, and because he could not speak clearly, it had become an extravagant hope for him to lead an army to war. That was why he appeared here and lived in the Khan tribe.
But it was really hard to say whether it was a blessing or a curse. Yang Fan felt that he had lost the right to participate in the struggle for the throne. He did not need to be involved in the power struggle, nor did he need to fight on the battlefield. He could live with his wife and son for a long time, and enjoy the happiness of a family. It was not necessarily a bad thing.
The little guy was probably bored to death in the carriage, so he was in high spirits and was not afraid of the cold. He hobbled away, looking around at the bustling camp, and walking in the direction where Yang Fan was. Yang Fan smiled, turned around and walked towards the yurt.
Maqiao chased after him and whispered, "Hey! Did you see that? That person looks so much like you. If you weren't standing beside me, I would have recognized the wrong person. "
Gu Zhuting looked at Yang Fan's hurried back, and her slender eyes slightly narrowed. From Yang Fan's unnatural behavior, she felt that there must be a story behind it. But this was obviously not a suitable place to inquire about other people's secrets, and that person's secrets were not suitable for her to inquire about.
Gu Zhuting sighed regretfully and suppressed her desire for gossip.
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