Chen was extremely concerned at the news that the Three Devils of Guandong were out to get Huo Qingtong. The image of her gradually disappearing into the dust of the Great Desert forced its way into his mind once more, but remembering how familiar she had been with Master Lu's pupil, he decided that he was fooling himself about her feelings for him. But he was unable to forget her image.

The white horse was extraordinarily fast, and in less than two days he arrived at Jiayu Fortress, the western end of the Great Wall. He climbed up onto the battlements and looked out at the Wall snaking away into the distance, holding at bay the great wilderness. He felt a sense of excitement at the thought of once more entering the border regions, and followed custom by throwing a stone at the wall. The sandstorms outside the Wall were perilous, the way would be hard, and according to tradition, if a traveller threw a stone at the wall as he passed through the Jiayu Gate, he would be able to return alive.

He travelled by day, rested by night. After he had passed the Jade Gate and Anxi, the desert changed colour gradually from pale to dark yellow, and then slowly turned to grey as he skirted the Gobi. The region was uninhabited, containing nothing but endless expanses of broad desert.

He passed through the Stellar Gorge, the main link between Gansu Province and the Muslim regions. It was already winter and the first accumulations of snow coud be seen along the gorge, providing a thrilling contrast of black and white.

"What a perfect place for an ambush," Chen thought.

That night, he lodged in a small hut and the next day found himself at the edge of the Gobi desert. The Gobi was as flat as a mirror, completely different from a sandy desert with its rolling dunes. Gazing into the distance, it seemed to him as if the sky and earth touched one another. All was silent, and it seemed as if he and his horse were the only beings in the universe.

The As he rode, day after day, he considered the problem of how to find Huo Qingtong. As a Chinese, the Muslims could suspect him of being a spy, so to gain their confidence he would have to resort to deception. He decided to disguise himself as a Muslim, and at the next settlement, bought a small embroidered cap, a pair of leather boots and a striped gown. Riding on, he found a deserted place and changed into his new clothes, burying the old ones in the sand. He looked at his reflection in a nearby stream and was so pleased with his appearance as a young Muslim boy that he let out a laugh.

But he met no Muslims on the road. The Muslim villages and dwellings he came upon were all burnt to the ground, obviously the good work of General Zhao Wei's army. He decided he was unlikely to meet any Muslims on the main highway, so he cut off south, and headed into the mountains. In such desolate wilderness, there was little chance of finding any settlement, and after three days, his dry rations were finished. But luckily, he managed to catch and kill a goat.

Two days further on, he met a number of Kazakh herdsmen. They knew that the Muslim army had retreated westwards in the face of the Manchu force, but had no idea where it had gone.

There was nothing for it but to continue west. Chen gave the horse its head and made no attempt to divert it. For four days he covered more than a hundred miles a day with nothing but sand and sky before his eyes.

On the fourth day, the weather turned hot. The burning sun scorched down on both man and horse. He wanted to find somewhere shady where they could rest, but wherever he looked there was nothing but sand dunes. He opened his water flask, drank three mouthfuls, and let the white horse drink the same amount. Despite a terrible thirst, he did not dare to drink more.

They rested for two hours, then started out once more. Suddenly, the white horse raised its head and sniffed at the wind, whinnied loudly, then turned and galloped off south. Chen gave it its head. Soon, sparse grasses began to appear on the sand dunes around them, then green grass. Chen knew there must be an oasis ahead, and his heart leapt. The white horse too was in high spirits and its hooves flew.

After a while, they heard the sound of running water and a small steam appeared before them. Chen dismounted and scooped up a mouthful of water. As he drank, he felt a coolness penetrate to his lungs and noticed a slight fragrance to the water. The stream was full of little pieces of ice which jostled each other, emitting a crisp jingling noise, like the music of fairies. After drinking a few mouthfuls, the white horse gave a whinny and gambolled about happily for a moment.

Having drunk his fill, Chen felt relaxed and content. He filled his two leather water flasks. In the midst of the sparkling ice fragments, he spotted flower petals floating past, and realized it must be flower beds further upstream which made the waters so fragrant.

"If I follow the stream up," he thought, "I may come across someone who can tell me where Huo Qingtong might be." He remounted and started along the bank.

The stream gradually widened. In the desert, most rivers and streams are larger close to their source as the water is soaked up by the desert sands and eventually disappears. Having lived many years in the Muslim areas, Chen did not consider it strange. The trees along the banks of the stream also increased in number and he spurred his horse into a gallop. As they turned a bend in the stream round a hill, a silver waterfall came into view.

Chen felt invigorated by the discovery of such a gorgeous place in the midst of the barren desert, and was curious to know what vistas would present themselves above the waterfall. He led the horse round and up, and as they emerged from a line of tall fir trees, he stopped in amazement.

Before him was a wide lake fed by another large waterfall at its southern end. The spray from the cascade spread out in all directions, combining with the sunlight to create a glorious rainbow, while a profusion of trees and flowers of many colours surrounded the lake and reflected in its turquoise-green waters. Beyond was a huge expanse of verdant grass stretching off to the horizon on which he could see several hundred white sheep. A high mountain rose into the clouds from the western bank of the lake, the lower slopes covered in green foliage and the upper slopes in brilliant white snow.

He stood staring at the scene for a moment. The sound of small birds singing in the trees and ice slabs in the lake jostling against each other combined with the roar of the waterfall into a work of music. Looking at the surface of the lake, he suddenly noticed a circle of small ripples, and a jade-white hand emerged from the water followed by a dripping-wet head. It turned and saw him, and with a shriek disappeared back into the water.

In that moment, Chen had been able to see that the head belonged to an extremely beautiful young girl.

"Could there really be such things as water spirits and monsters?" he wondered. He pulled out three chess pieces and lodged them in his palm just in case.

A string of ripples stretched across the surface of the lake northwards, then with a splash, the girl's head re-emerged amidst an outgrowth of flowers and bushes. Through a gap in the leaves, he could see her snow-white skin, her raven hair splayed out over the surface of the water and her eyes, as bright as stars, gazing across at him.

"Who are you?" a clear voice asked. "Why have you come here?"

She spoke in the Muslim language, and although Chen understood, he was unable to answer. He felt dazed, as if drunk or in a dream.

"Go away and let me put my clothes on," the girl said. Chen's face flushed and he quickly went back into the trees.

He was extremely embarrassed and wanted to escape, but he thought he should at least ask the girl for news of Huo Qingtong. For a while he was undecided. Then the sound of singing, soft but clear, floated over from the opposite side of the lake: