Sands of Silk

Finally, he was awake. Now he was going to die. Die in the sand, maybe a thousand miles away from his home. The sun pulsed down in waves like the beat of a drum, while all he could see was sand for miles. A few pieces of his camp remained, along with lots of dark masses sitting gently in the sand. Bodies. Bodies of colleagues, of travellers, and bodies of the few animals they had. Only Jiang Heng was left to crawl and die. But, he would die in peace with with actions.

Six months earlier; Jiang Heng was nothing like his family. His family was great, wealthy, and powerful in the Han government. They were also deceitful, prejudiced, and rooted in old ways. He was to finally start a career as a political power of some sort, whatever his family believed was right, and whatever would benefit them the most. Jiang Heng never wanted any of it.

Although he spent most of his life learning from the best teachers to reach his full potential in preparation for a job like this, he still had no say in the matter. The turning point was when Jiang Heng learned he was to be married to a woman he never met, in a land he would never go to. So, he left a day before his 18th birthday. After much thinking and planning, Jiang Heng took only bare necessities and left in shame.

Jiang Heng would then spend the next few weeks travelling along, doing odd jobs, until he reached the city of Dunhuang. Dunhuang was a major stop along the trade routes, a city on the outside of a desert. Every night he would go to sleep and have nightmares and see his mother’s worried face distorted with sorrow, and his father’s face filled with disappointment. He didn’t sleep much, to say the least. Two days before getting to Dunhuang, Jiang Heng heard whispers at a stop along the road. A few men, intoxicated from too much millet wine, were talking about a caravan going to Karakorum that paid well. Jiang Heng knew what he was going to do.

A few days later Jiang Heng arrived in Dunhuang. He set out to find the caravan owner, Tong Zhi Han, which was surprisingly difficult in such a bustling city. It wasn’t until Jiang Heng was told by a merchant that a man in many robes came by to barter, and told him he was going to see Zhi Han. As Jiang Heng started down the street to find the man in robes through the dusty market place, he realized what he was doing and what he did. At this moment, Jiang Heng realized that he had left his past behind and was now in a foreign place looking for a man he had never met before to go on a insane voyage. What was he doing?

“You look like a man who has much conflict with yourself,” said the man in many robes. Jiang Heng now remembered.

The man only said his name was Ji Hui, and that he was a buddhist monk going to meet Zhi Han for the trip to Karakorum . The two began to talk about what Ji Hui said in the marketplace and soon Jiang told him his whole story. They walked in silence for a while until the monk said in a calm gravely voice,

“That is quite a story. A story about a man full of sorrow who wants more out of life, but doesn’t know what, it seems. That reminds me of another story. A story about another young man with the same ideals, but eventually through much work he did find himself.”

They walked in silence once again until Jiang Heng broke the silence,

“You were the young man weren’t you.”

“Hahah!” exclaimed the monk.

After meeting the fat, wealthy caravan owner, they would both finally get a place on the large caravan going out into the arid landscape. After a few days Jiang Heng would buy any supplies needed, gather his few belongings, and get on a camel to go out into the desert along with all the others. He thought he would have been scared, or worried, but he felt strangely calm and…. free. But one thing still tugged at him from inside. His family.

Even though he felt bad about what he had done, he still had the distraction of the task at hand. Jiang Heng would spend the next few months doing hard labor and having to endure endless travel all to transport porcelain, paper, and tea. Many times Jiang would ask himself whether or not he should have done this journey, or if he could go any longer. Whether it was grief-stricken sleepless nights, or many days of heatstroke or sickness, he would still persevere. Also, during this time, he would become great friends with Ji Hui, with the old monk teaching Jiang Heng many Buddhist teachings.

Less than a week from their destination, the caravan stopped to camp for the night. They quickly made a fire as the once arid and scorching hot environment would soon become very cold. They had been slowly running out of water and they were eating nothing more than a handful of rice and and a small amount of soy beans every day. So when they found an oasis with water they thought they were very lucky. A third of the people there were befallen with stomach sickness, including Jiang Heng. Most would not be okay and many would die. They had decided to send two groups to look for more water and anything else useful.

The next day only one group came back. It was decided that if they did not return by nightfall a small band of men would go find them.The only good thing was that the group that came back also brought back water from an old well, that might have saved the lives of many there. But by nightfall they did not return and a group of men including Ji Hui went to look for them. This was a mistake that could not be taken back.

Jiang Heng rolled around on the ground of his tent, occasionally vomiting into a basin container. This was hell. He was dehydrated and exhausted. Every few minutes (or hours in Jiang’s mind) his caretaker, one of the men’s wives, would check on him and give him water. He could see the vibrant night sky through the slit in his tent, and then the face of his caretaker. She was saying something, something he couldn’t make out. He could see people running, screaming, but he couldn’t hear it. Jiang Heng slowly fell into his exhaustion and passed out.

The night sky dominated all he could see in his vision, as all Jiang Heng’s buddhist teachings came flooding back. His vision backed out of the sky and he could see himself lying in his tent, and his camp filled with demons extinguishing all life. As the demons carried his body outside, he saw so much suffering. All life was suffering caused by each person’s desire, people’s desire for the caravan, and the demon’s desire to take each life and all things. Jiang Heng was miserable because of him wanting more, by leaving his family, and causing him and his family grief. Only by accepting what he had done and trying to perfect his life would he be happy. And that meant letting go of what he had done in the past with his family and moving on.

When Jiang Heng awoke after the demon attack, or really bandit attack, he had his realization. He was blinded by the sun as he crawled out of the massive pit where the bandits lazily threw all of their victims. Hoping to find a tent for shelter or other supplies, when he finally got out, there was nothing. So he walked towards where he thought the other group went. He walked until he could not walk anymore, and then he crawled. He finally reached a point where he could accept his past, although it took longer than he expected. And as Jiang Heng took what would seem his last few breaths of consciousness, he saw something. Something on the horizon. A man on a camel, an old monk in many robes.