On the twenty-ninth day, outside King Xi’s sleeping quarters in Kang City, Zhong Li and Zhong Yuan listened to the King spend the entire day cursing “that infuriating woman!” They were not entirely clear on what had happened to make the King this furious — had he not been getting along perfectly well with the Feng Wang just last night? But they had no intention of trying to figure it out. They simply attended to their King with careful attentiveness. And aside from the King’s uncharacteristic behavior, everyone else in Kang City was essentially fine — though Generals Qi Shu, Xu Yuan, and Cheng Zhi all wore unusual expressions, their faces filled with quiet grief.

At dusk, Zhong Li and Zhong Yuan were about to enter the room to light the lamps for the King, but as their hands reached the door, a voice came from within: “All of you — go.” The voice was soft, and yet brooked no argument.

And so the Zhong brothers could only quietly withdraw.

In the room, Lanxi sat on the soft couch, his eyes staring vacantly out the window — as though if he kept looking that way, that person would come flying back through it. But he kept watching until midnight… watched until heaven and earth were swathed in pitch-black darkness without end, and she had not returned.

He who had refused to believe it, refused to give up — in this moment admitted at last, in complete and utter despair: she would never appear before his eyes again. She had left him with such pitiless finality.

The night was so dark — so dark not a single thread of starlight could be seen.

Heaven and earth were so vast — boundless and without end, and yet only him left in it.

The wind was so cold — its chill enveloping him, piercing through to his bones and heart.

He had only to close that open window, and he could set his feet across ten thousand li of mountains and rivers. He could occupy the imperial throne of the capital city. He could hold all living things in his hands. Boundless power and endless glory were within arm’s reach.

And yet it was still so dark, so empty, so cold.

A life — long and seemingly without end — and yet at this moment he could see clear to its finish.

A life without her. The most supreme and the most honored… and also the most desolate, the most empty.

On the thirtieth day, King Xi finally stopped cursing — but remained shut in his room for the entire day and did not come out. The various matters in the city were handled competently by the generals, and so there was nothing pressing enough to require the twins to risk their lives by knocking on that door. What the twins’ limited perspective could determine was that the Feng Wang did not appear to be in the city — and yet everyone in the city seemed to know it. The twins paid this no particular mind, and simply continued to attend carefully to their King.

On the first day of the second month, at dawn.

Kang City was calm. Though a hundred thousand troops were garrisoned there, the soldiers and civilians lived in peace.

The Fengyun Cavalry was also calm — even though their queen was not presently in the city. On the day after King Xi’s arrival in Kang City, the Feng Wang had dispatched General Qi Shu to convey a royal edict to the entire army: owing to severe injury requiring recuperation, she was returning to the imperial capital, and the entire army was therefore to follow the commands of King Xi.

The Mo Yu Cavalry and Fengyun Cavalry did not harbor the slightest doubt about this edict. The scene of the Feng Wang being struck by that arrow and the King losing his composure in that day’s battle — the sight of King Xi’s face gone white-haired and aged overnight from saving the Feng Wang — the image of the two sovereigns embracing before a hundred thousand soldiers — all of it remained vividly etched in their minds.

Every person believed that the bond between the two sovereigns was deep and profound, that the two nations had already merged into one — sharing glory and sharing disgrace, carrying each other’s burdens through fortune and hardship alike.

On this day, King Xi finally opened his door and came out. The twins immediately summoned their full and utmost attention to attend to him well. But the King was easy to attend to this day, as he spent essentially the entire time in the study and was very occupied. By the time the lanterns first came alight, when the twins respectfully invited him to return to his room to rest, the study was in perfect order.

On the second day of the second month.

Lanxi took himself to the study early as usual. After the twins attended to his breakfast, they took up their post outside the door.

“Zhong Li.” After a while, a summons came from inside. Zhong Li immediately pushed the door open and entered.

“Have someone deliver this letter to Cangshu City. This King invites the Huang Wang to meet at the summit of Changmang Shan at chen hour tomorrow, for a contest of chess.”

“Yes.” Zhong Li received the letter and withdrew promptly.

“Zhong Yuan.”

“Here.” Zhong Yuan stepped forward.

“Summon Generals Qiao Jin, Duanmu, Qishu, Qi Shu, Xu Yuan, and Cheng Zhi — all six.”

“Yes.” Zhong Yuan received the order and went out.

When there was no one left in the study, Lanxi looked out the window. It was a clear and bright day, the wind clean and the sun warm.

“That infuriating woman!” The words came out of his mouth before he could stop them — another involuntary curse.

The beautiful scene outside the window could not extinguish the fire burning in his chest. The other attendants keeping watch outside the study, having already witnessed the King’s out-of-character cursing in the past few days, no longer found it particularly remarkable.

A moment later, a knock sounded at the door.

“Your Highness — the six generals have arrived.”

“Come in.” Lanxi settled his feelings, composed his expression, and seated himself on the throne with unhurried grace.

Whatever must come will not be late. Whatever must be faced cannot be skipped. Whatever must be done must be borne.

On the third day of the second month, the Kings of Huang and Xi met on Changmang Shan.

That day, as the first dawn light was blooming, two sovereigns — one from the east, one from the west — ascended the mountain with unhurried composure.

That day, the sky was blue and clear as a washed vessel. The wind was cool, the sun warm.

That day, the great armies in Cangshu City and Kang City craned their necks in anticipation.

That day, the six generals in Kang City all wore unusual expressions, complex with emotions they could do nothing about.

That day, heaven and earth were as silent and still as the moment before the primordial world had yet begun.

That day, at noon, a dark shadow drifted down from Changmang Shan.

That day, the Mo Yu Cavalry and Fengyun Cavalry in Kang City waited in quiet readiness for King Xi’s royal edict — and received in return only the King’s serene, unhurried smile.

All arrangements had already been made in their entirety.

He let out a long, long breath — as though releasing every last trace of regret held in his heart in one single exhalation.

“Anmei, Anchi.” He condensed the sound into a thread and sent it out quietly.

In the bright clear daylight, two ghost-like black shadows drifted in without a sound.

“We await the King’s command.”

“Go to Jing City.” Lanxi narrowed his eyes slightly. His mood was not pleasant right now, and to make matters worse, the sunlight seemed to be deliberately opposing him by being especially brilliant — beautiful to excess. “Knock Chuanyu and Chuanyun unconscious and deliver them to Shallow Jade Mountain. Leave them a message: from this day forward, they may openly tell the world — they are Ning Chuanyu and Ning Chuanyun.”

“Yes.” The shadows answered and vanished, never questioning the King’s commands.

“Anwang, Anliang.”

Two more black shadows drifted in without a sound.

“We await the King’s command.”

“Deliver these two letters — one to Royal Uncle in Fengdu, and one to Feng Wei in the imperial capital.” Lanxi held one letter in each hand.

“Yes.” Each shadow took one letter and departed without a sound.

“That infuriating woman!” He was cursing again without realizing it.

This departure was truly a final parting from this life — how deeply unwilling he was! He could honestly have eaten that woman alive.

“Hehe… is that truly how much you miss me?” A light laugh made him look up. There on the windowsill sat a person — white-robed, dark-haired, carefree and unrestrained. None other than the person who had driven him to gnash his teeth in helpless fury.

In that instant, all the fire in his chest vanished. All the unwillingness in his heart evaporated into nothing. He regarded her with calm and quiet ease, and said with mild unconcern: “Are you not already free and wandering the rivers and lakes? Why are you appearing here again?”

The person perched on the windowsill smiled with radiant brilliance: “Black little fox — after I left, I realized I had forgotten to do one thing. And if I cannot accomplish this thing, I will die with regret.”

Lanxi looked at her in a languid, unhurried manner, smiling with airy nonchalance: “How rare — I wonder what this could be, that you would take it so seriously. So seriously, indeed, that you would die with your eyes open.”

The person on the windowsill clapped her hands and jumped down, stood in the middle of the room, pointed a slender finger at him, and said with bold, unapologetic, entirely self-righteous conviction: “I am going to abduct you!”

Before the words had finished falling, a white silk sash flew out and wound itself around the waist of the person before her.

“Black little fox — you have no objections, I presume?” She looked at the person she had wrapped up with a beaming smile.

“I only have one small question.” The person wrapped in the white silk was entirely unperturbed, standing there with perfect ease — rather as though he had been waiting all along to be tied up. Those dark eyes looked at her with deep and unhurried calm. “You are abducting me — for what purpose?”

The white silk tightened inch by inch, drawing the person before her inch by inch closer. When he stood right before her, she spoke softly, and with solemnity: “Abducted — to be my husband.”

With a sweep of the white silk and one encircling arm, two figures — one white, one black — flew out through the window together. A light touch on the top of the wall, and they were gone in an instant.

Gazing after those departing figures from a distance, Zhong Li and Zhong Yuan let out a rare simultaneous sigh.

“Well — I suppose we had better get moving too, hadn’t we?” They sighed in unison, asked each other in unison, then looked at each other in unison, and broke into smiles in unison.

The Fengmo army was gathered at this moment in the training grounds — because Generals Qiao Jin and Qi Shu had issued orders that a royal edict was to be proclaimed here.

The sun was directly overhead at the time. The weather was somewhat cold, but the clear sunlight shining down left one feeling bright of spirit and refreshed. A hundred thousand troops stood in orderly formation in the training grounds — black and white distinct and separate, armor blazing in the light. Their gazes were all fixed on the high city tower ahead, waiting for the two generals who were to read the edict. Only — the people they were waiting for had not yet arrived. Instead, two figures descended from the sky. High atop the tower, side by side — one black, one white — they stood. The wind lifted their robes, and they seemed to have descended from the heavens.

Before the ten thousand troops could even react, a clear and brilliant voice rang out over Kang City, carrying with it a smile full and brimming: “Fengyun Cavalry and Mo Yu Cavalry — hear me! I have heard that your King Xi is peerlessly elegant and handsome. Having seen him today, I can confirm the reputation is well-earned — and so I, Bai Fengxi, am abducting him for my husband, and I hereby announce this to all under heaven. Any who dare try to take him from me — my three feet of sword edge will be waiting!”

“Are you truly going to let all under heaven know?” The person beside her shook his head and sighed, looking at this wildly bold and unrestrained woman — seeming faintly resigned, seemingly helpless, and yet with a surge of pure delight in his heart.

“Hehe — to let all the world know that King Xi was seized by me, Bai Fengxi, to be my husband — is that not a wonderfully amusing and wonderfully satisfying thing?” Fengxi’s eyes were full of laughter.

“What?” Below them, the tens of thousands of troops erupted at once into an uproar of astonishment. Squinting to see across the distance, though it was far, the figures were faintly recognizable as King Xi and the Feng Wang. But had the Feng Wang not gone back to the imperial capital? How could she be appearing here again? How could she make such an announcement? And why was King Xi allowing her to do as she pleased?

But then the dark figure raised a hand — and the tens of thousands fell silent at once.

“I, Lanxi, hereby proclaim: the Mo Yu Cavalry and Fengyun Cavalry are to follow in every matter the royal edicts issued by Generals Qiao Jin and Qi Shu, and to act under the command and direction of Generals Qiao Jin and Qi Shu. Any who dare to disobey will be regarded as treasonous subjects.”

“Good — you all heard clearly. Those who dare disobey will be regarded as treasonous subjects.” Fengxi’s clear and brilliant voice cut with perfect clarity into every person’s ear.

“Now — let us go.”

She turned, smiled, and extended her hand. Ahead — the rivers and lakes stretched vast and boundless. Ahead — wind and rain were unknown. From this day forward — you and I, together.

The black and white figures swept gracefully away, disappearing from the sight of the Fengmo army, disappearing from the sky above Kang City.

Before the tens of thousands of troops had recovered from their stunned bewilderment, Qiao Jin and Qi Shu had already mounted the city tower with the edicts in hand.

“By command of both sovereigns…”

After that, there were many, many rumors. Some said that Bai Fengxi had admired King Xi’s peerless elegance and forcibly seized him as her husband. Some said that King Xi had been so captivated by Bai Fengxi’s grace and bearing that he had abandoned the realm and followed after her. Some also said that Bai Fengxi and Hei Fengxi were in fact the Feng Wang and King Xi, and that they had abandoned their thrones and fled out of fear of Huang Wang’s military might. Others said that the Feng Wang and King Xi had not feared Huang Wang at all, but had been unable to bear the suffering of the common people, and so had both abdicated their thrones together and retired into the mountains, living as an immortal couple…

The stories came in many, many versions. Whether in the world of the rivers and lakes with its swords and shadows, or among ordinary folk with their everyday lives of salt and rice — there were always many tales about those two people, always many accounts of that particular day. Only those tales could only be taken as legends.

What was recorded in the history books for that day was a single sentence: On the third day of the second month in the nineteenth year of Ren, the Feng Wang and King Xi left their edicts in Kang City and departed, abdicating their thrones.

Legends or history books, vivid and detailed or spare and plain, disparaging or admiring — none of it could compare to the experience of the hundred thousand Fengmo troops who had witnessed that departure with their own eyes.

A bearing so unrestrained and free, a grace so effortlessly light — how could such a thing be tarnished by a word like *fled*?

That brilliant blue sky, that radiant sunlight, those two figures bound together by a single white silk sash — like two birds flying wing to wing, like a dragon and phoenix soaring through the sky.

*”At Dongdan, superior troops and extraordinary formations — I was defeated in battle. At Changmang, in the discourse of governance and the way of rule — I fall far short. Huang Wang is a man of greatness and will surely be an illustrious sovereign. What value have mere fame and gain if they injure the soldiers? If it is for the peace of the people, why burden them further? I depart today. The heavy responsibility falls to Huang Wang. My heart is truly full of shame and regret. I beseech those who have served under my banner — perceive the benevolence of heaven, rally together to support Huang Wang, and together establish peace — so that your abilities and aspirations may not be wasted, and so that my earnest wishes may not be in vain.”*

This was the abdication edict written in King Xi’s own hand. These words placed great righteousness at the fore and great benevolence behind — and all under heaven were moved by King Xi’s deed. Even a thousand years later, when people turned the pages of *The Eastern Annals — Biographies of the Marquises — The Chapter on Prince Feng, Lanxi*, they would invariably praise King Xi with the single character: *Ren* — benevolence.

After Huang Chao ascended the throne, he commissioned historians to compile *The Eastern Annals*. One upright historian set down the following passage: *The Feng Wang and King Xi were gifted alike in virtue and talent, commanding powerful armies and broad territories, and had already established the force to divide the realm in two. Yet both sovereigns, embodying the benevolence of heaven and taking pity on the suffering of the common people, were unwilling to continue fighting. And so they abdicated their thrones and yielded the sacred vessel, departing with easy grace. This was the greatest benevolence and the greatest wisdom.*

*Yielded the sacred vessel.* That historian, with no fear of punishment from the reigning emperor, still recorded the integrity of the two sovereigns — demonstrating his own unyielding backbone. And the great sovereign of his age, Huang Chao, did not punish that historian — did not even order the text revised. He allowed the history books to record that single character — *yield* — without any fear of posterity mocking him for having *received* the realm. His breadth of spirit and greatness of character moved later generations to clap their hands in admiration.

And as for those two who had departed — whether as Bai Fengxi and Hei Fengxi, or as the Feng Wang and King Xi — in their own age and a hundred or a thousand years hence, those two people were a legend surpassing all legends.

But that is all for later.

Setting aside the bewilderment of a hundred thousand troops in Kang City, setting aside the astonishment and emotion of all the people under heaven — far from Kang City, on a small road some scores of li away, two riders — one black, one white — were traveling alongside each other with unhurried ease. At this moment they were no longer the Feng Wang and King Xi commanding half a realm between them, but only Bai Fengxi and Hei Fengxi, wanderers of the rivers and lakes, coming and going as they pleased.

“Can you let it go?” Feng Xi looked over at the person riding beside her, who had half-narrowed her eyes as though thinking of dozing.

The moment this woman took off her royal robes, all the bad habits came back — the sleeping in, the love of food, the laziness, the boldness… that image of a lofty and imposing queen was nothing but a performance. At the core of her… well. There was nothing to be done. There was no other way for this life. That was that.

“Don’t worry.” Fengxi gave a casual wave of her hand, stifled a yawn, and said: “The Fengyun Cavalry will never defy my edicts, and they hold Qi Shu, Xu Yuan, and Cheng Zhi in great respect. With Qi Shu in Kang City there will be no trouble. As for Xu Yuan — he is taking the edict back to the country. The dissenting ministers at court were all driven out when I took the throne. Feng Jing and Xie Su are both senior officials long accustomed to turbulent times, with hearts full of compassion for the people — they would never start wars in reckless disregard for the lives of Fengguo’s citizens. In the end, what the common people care most about is not who sits on the throne, but who can give them a life that is peaceful and secure. Huang Chao is neither cruel nor incompetent. And I gave the three generals a royal order: even if they must leave, they must wait at least two years — by which time the Fengyun Cavalry should already have come around to Huang Chao.” She turned her head and smiled at Feng Xi. “What about you, then? The Mo Yu Cavalry is not like the Fengyun Cavalry.”

Feng Xi merely smiled mildly: “When it comes to loyalty, the Fengyun Cavalry stands foremost among the four great cavalry forces — but the Mo Yu Cavalry has one quality worth commending: they follow the King’s commands and military orders completely and without daring to disobey. Qiao Jin and the others are fine generals — they have no desire to establish independent authority, nor the means to do so. As for the old fox my royal uncle — he would happily be rid of all these headache-inducing affairs he could never wait to avoid, and enjoy his final years in comfort. With my royal uncle there, there’s no need to worry about Feng Wei. As for my so-called ‘family relations’—” His smile carried a hint of cold amusement. “If they want to try their hand at making trouble, they have neither power nor troops, and whatever little ability they have — it will give Huang Chao a perfect opportunity to make an example out of the small fry and frighten the rest.”

“Hey — shall we guess how Huang Chao will deal with them?” Fengxi blinked and asked.

“Pointless.” Feng Xi cast her a dismissive glance. “If he cannot even win over those soldiers and generals, how can he be fit to possess this realm? And if he dares do anything to those people — hmph. He need not imagine his throne will remain stable.”

“Hehe — black little fox, do you regret it?” Fengxi smiled and drew her horse closer to his.

“What does it matter whether I regret it or not?” Feng Xi countered with a question.

“Hehe — whether you regret it or not, either way — you are already tied to me for this lifetime!” Fengxi pointed at the white silk still binding both their waists.

Feng Xi smiled, bent his head close to hers: “Woman — don’t think I don’t know about that game of ‘chess’ between you and Yu Wuyuan.”

Fengxi raised her hand and wound it lightly around him upon hearing this: “So what if you know? You still jumped right in.”

“Hm…” A soft laugh. He drew her into his embrace, bit down gently on her pale white earlobe, and murmured: “Under all of heaven, among all living things — all is dust. Only you are the pearl at the center of my heart. You have seeped into my bones, you have dissolved into my blood. There is no letting go.”

“Hehe — I am going to have this carved into the Feng clan genealogy.”

“It is the Feng clan.”

“What difference does it make?”

…………

The two figures — one black, one white — rode gradually further and further away. The sounds of laughter and banter grew gradually more distant, gradually fainter.

On Changmang Shan, in the settling dusk, Qiu Jiushuang and He Qishu had expended every ounce of their combined strength to finally climb to the summit — only to find Huang Chao standing alone at the cliff’s edge, hands clasped behind his back, gazing up at the sky, seemingly deep in thought.

“Your Highness — it is time to descend the mountain.” Qiu Jiushuang called to him.

But Huang Chao seemed not to hear, standing motionless at the cliff’s edge, letting the mountain wind billow his robes.

He Qishu and Qiu Jiushuang exchanged a glance, said nothing more, and simply stood behind him.

Only after a long while did they hear Huang Chao speak: “He actually said — to win the realm while losing the one you love is to be nothing but an emperor with no one beside him. The throne atop its jade and celestial towers, the splendid mountains and rivers stretching ten thousand li — none of it can compare to holding your beloved and roaming ten thousand mountains and rivers together, side by side through life. He actually just yielded half the realm like that, just turned and walked away without looking back. Would you say he is wise or foolish?”

Both of them could not help being startled upon hearing this. They had never imagined that what they had assumed would be a fierce clash between two mighty forces would end in this manner.

Huang Chao turned and walked to the stone-carved chess board.

The chess pieces on the stone board remained exactly as they had been — not one piece moved. But on the stone wall, two new lines had been carved:

*Regard the realm as nothing more than dust and chaff — take each other’s hand and laugh at the heavens from the ends of the earth.*

“The unfinished game of Changmang waits with an empty seat — one day the clouds will converge and Zhizun will be seized!” Huang Chao recited the two lines already carved on the left side of the stone wall. His mood was not one of stirring elation but carried a touch of uncertainty and an unnamed sense of loss. “Clearly the goal was to seize Zhizun — and yet that person goes and carves ‘regard the realm as nothing more than dust and chaff, take each other’s hand and laugh at the heavens from the ends of the earth.’ This realm that every person under heaven dreams of possessing — and he could let it go with such ease?”

He lowered his head and opened his palms. In his left and right hands, four command tokens — on one side, the Mo Yu token and the Flying Cloud token, symbols of a supreme commander. On the other side, the Xuanmo token, symbol of a sovereign.

He Qishu and Qiu Jiushuang exchanged a look. Dimly, they felt they could understand something.

“The two of you will come with me to Kang City tomorrow.” Huang Chao’s voice had returned to its calm.

“How many troops should we bring?” Qiu Jiushuang asked.

“None.” Huang Chao said.

“Your Highness—” Qiu Jiushuang moved to argue.

“If this King lacks even that much courage, how can he be fit to be the master of the Fengyun and Mo Yu cavalry?” Huang Chao raised a hand and spoke with decisive finality.

*”Qiao Jin, Duanmu, Qishu — you followed me because I recognized your talents and valued your abilities and let you give full expression to your ambitions. Now that I leave, you need not try to stop me, nor follow after me. Huang Wang is a man of broader spirit and generosity than I — a true illustrious sovereign of his age. He will not treat you poorly. If you feel any regard for the years we have shared together, then do not wear the name of Mo Yu Cavalry General in vain — lead them well, and protect them well. From this day forward, forget your old master. Devote your whole hearts to Huang Wang. Fight for a realm at peace, so that your abilities and your aspirations may not be wasted — and so that all my efforts may not have been for nothing.*

*I depart now and will not return. Perhaps all the world will mock my cowardice. Perhaps in the history books, it will be my name that is laughed at. But I will have no regrets.”*

On the city tower of Kang City, Qiao Jin raised his head and looked up at the sky. The curtain of night was dark as ink, and starlight blazed and shimmered. Without intending it, he thought of those ink-black, flawless eyes — and how sometimes, in the King’s most open and unguarded moments, those deep and shadowed eyes would flash with starlight just like this.

He and Qi Shu had worked together to finally settle the panicked army — a combined effort at last bringing Kang City back to order. And Jing City — with Qishu and Cheng Zhi gone there, given Qishu’s sharp mind and Cheng Zhi’s bold spirit, things should be well in hand. Only… would there be any opportunity in this life to meet those two figures again — those two to whom they had willingly bowed their heads?

*”Whichever matters most — I will make it whole for him.”*

Feng Wang — was this your making-whole?

If the King chose the realm, you left him your nation, and helped him secure his throne. That was making whole his ambition.

If the King chose you — he lost the mountains and rivers and the imperial throne, but gained a name for benevolence through the ages, and gained your companionship through this one life. That was making whole his heart.

He closed his eyes, made a fist, and vowed silently in his heart: *King — rest easy. Qiao Jin will not fail what has been entrusted to him.*

Meanwhile, Kang City’s other great general, Qi Shu, did not share General Qiao Jin’s leisure for standing on the city tower and contemplating the stars. He was at this moment standing outside the entrance of his quarters, hesitating with some difficulty over whether he should go in or not.

Well, perhaps he should just go and squeeze in with General Qiao for the night. He sighed at last and started to look for Qiao Jin — but the moment he lifted his foot, the door gave a soft creak and opened.

“General — you’re back! Come in quickly. I’ve made dinner already and I’ve been waiting for you!” A sweet and charming cry of welcome, and from the doorway stepped a bright and lovely young woman with a face full of warm, sweet smiles — none other than the Feng Wang’s female official, Wu Mei.

“I — I —”

“Whatever you want to say can wait until you’re inside. It’s dark and cold out here. I’ve already warmed a pot of wine for you — come in and drink a cup to chase away the chill.”

Before Qi Shu could offer any protest, Wu Mei had already taken hold of his arm and drawn him inside, where a room full of warmth and fragrant cooking greeted him.

He sighed quietly, and could not help thinking of the words the King had spoken before leaving: “Qi Shu — Wu Mei is someone this King regards as a younger sister. I should rightly have found her a good family to marry into, but I no longer have the means to do so. It is said that when the sovereign has matters to attend to, the subject fulfills the responsibility. So I ask you to act in my stead and find her a good match.”

Ah — this was not asking him to *find* a good match. The King had clearly been asking him to *be* the good match.

Unlike Qi Shu with his mournful sighing, in an inn a hundred li from Kang City, the finest private room bore a scene of warmth and quiet.

In soft and gentle lamplight, a graceful and refined young woman in a light yellow palace robe sat with a book in hand. Across from her sat a young man in blue robes, of ordinary appearance but with a spiritually luminous quality about him. He held a cup of hot tea and was blowing gently across the surface to cool it. The warm water slid down his throat and left his heart and lungs feeling warm.

“*…Parents and wives come out to see them off, the dust rising until Xianyang Bridge is hidden from sight. Some grab at clothes, stamp their feet, stand in the road weeping — the weeping rises straight up to the clouds… When they went, the local official helped bind their hair. When they returned, hair white, they were sent back to the frontier. On the border city, the spilled blood has filled seas… Now truly I know it is wrong to wish for sons — far better to have daughters. A daughter can still be married to a neighbor. A son is buried beneath the grass…* How true! War is calamity! No wonder that from the moment she took up arms, I rarely saw the King smile. After each battle, those long brows were even more tightly furrowed — she was grieving for these soldiers who shed their blood and gave their lives!” The graceful young woman recited the poem and spoke with feeling, then raised her head toward the young man across from her. “That is why the King abdicated and left. In truth, she did it for the sake of the common people, so they would suffer no more in war.”

“Yes.” The person across from her nodded with a gentle smile. “Xieer appears wild and carefree — but in truth she has the softest heart of all.”

Looking at the young woman reading in the lamplight, he could not help thinking of Xieer’s strange smile the evening before they left the city: “Jiu Wei — Liu Yun has been a learned and accomplished young woman in the Feng Wang’s palace. When you return to Jiuluo Shan, reuniting with your people and building new generations, you’ll certainly want to hire a tutor. So I entrust Liu Yun to you.”

Ah — a tutor? Jiu Wei smiled with unhurried ease. When there is a bond, there is no escaping it. When there is no bond, even face to face, it cannot be sought.

That same night, the Huanghua army in Cangshu City was in a state of jubilant celebration.

Unlike the soldiers’ jubilation, Huang Chao sat quietly in his study, looking with an unfocused gaze at a landscape painting hanging on the wall — misty hills and rippling waters.

*Knock knock.* A soft tapping at the door. Before he had time to respond, the door was gently pushed open.

In all the world, there was only one person who came and went from his room at will. He turned his head — and sure enough, a white-robed figure, pure and bright as moonlight, floated in.

“Still thinking about it? Still cannot understand it?” Yu Wuyuan sat down casually across from Huang Chao.

“I have thought it through. I simply cannot understand it.” Huang Chao shook his head lightly. “A person like him should not have done what he did — so why did he do it anyway?”

“When the heart is utterly claimed, life and death can be set aside.” Yu Wuyuan said this mildly. “If you had done as he did, you would understand it. But if you understood it, this realm would not be yours.”

“When the heart is utterly claimed…” Huang Chao murmured the words softly. For one instant, his eyes held a flash of something uncertain and tender.

“Mm.” Yu Wuyuan smiled a faint smile and nodded. “That he was able to do this — you and I can only admire him for it.”

“Admire? Perhaps a little.” Huang Chao smiled mildly. “To regard the whole realm as dust and chaff with such effortless ease — throughout all history that is only him. And so, in this contest for the realm, you and I can be said to have won. But in another respect — he won, and we lost.”

“Why speak of winning and losing? As long as there is no regret, one is a true hero.” Yu Wuyuan looked steadily at Huang Chao, finding reassurance in those steady, resilient golden eyes.

“My master once predicted that I would be the person at the summit of Changmang Shan — but he surely never could have predicted an ending like this.” Huang Chao said with a tinge of wistfulness.

“In those years — although the Heavenly Elder and the Earthly Elder observed the stars and received a celestial revelation — they descended the mountain too early.” Yu Wuyuan said with a mild smile. “And so they never saw the final and most extraordinary celestial phenomenon.”

“Oh?”

“The royal stars stood in sustained opposition. An anomalous star shot up through the heavens. Its light dazzled the nine regions — and then vanished in an instant.” Yu Wuyuan raised his head. His gaze seemed to pierce through the roof and look straight into the vast and boundless starry sky above.

“This anomalous star is Fengxi.” Huang Chao understood. “Only—” Those sword-sharp brows arched slightly, and he looked at Yu Wuyuan with a trace of curious wonder. “How old were you back then?”

“Ten.” Yu Wuyuan answered honestly.

“Ten?” Huang Chao was stunned — and then he smiled. “Of course… the Yu Family.”

Yu Wuyuan smiled in response.

A moment later, Huang Chao composed his expression and said: “Tomorrow I am going to Kang City — just myself, He Qishu, and Jiushuang. Not a single soldier. Do you have any objection?”

“Kang City — you may go without worry.” Yu Wuyuan looked at Huang Chao, his gaze gentle. After a brief pause, he added: “Tomorrow I will not see you off, and you need not see me off either.”

*Boom!* Huang Chao surged to his feet, sending the low table before him toppling. *Clatter, crash!* The teapot, the cups, and the jade ornaments on the table all fell to the floor. But he had no attention for any of that. He reached out on pure instinct and seized Yu Wuyuan’s hand. “Wuyuan—” His voice was urgent and sharp. “What do you mean, ‘no need to see me off’?”

“You have not been this unsettled since the day I met you.” Yu Wuyuan gently pulled his hand free, bent down, righted the low table, and began picking the things up from the floor one by one.

“Wuyuan—” Huang Chao watched Yu Wuyuan calmly tidying things up, while his heart lurched up and down in his chest. This feeling of helpless dread — he had never experienced it in his life before this moment.

“Huang Chao.” Yu Wuyuan finished tidying and raised his head. He looked at him — looked at those golden eyes that were no longer calm and keen, and felt a wave of emotion stir in his own heart, along with a quiet sigh. He raised his hand and rested it on his shoulder. “Huang Chao — remember your identity. In the face of all things, you must remain unmoved as a mountain.”

But Huang Chao could not remain unmoved as a mountain just now. His gaze locked onto Yu Wuyuan. “We have known each other for nearly ten years. I have revered you as a teacher and regarded you as a friend. Though we were not together every day, we met from time to time, exchanged letters from time to time. I have always been certain our bond is second to none — not even to those who have faced death together. Whenever I had need, you appeared at my side. I always assumed… you and I would go on like this for a lifetime. Surely… surely you are not also leaving me?”

As though unable to look directly into the scorching ardent sincerity in those golden eyes, Yu Wuyuan turned his head slightly. His gaze fell on the landscape painting on the wall — those hazy, mist-shrouded hills and waters. Staring into that soft, dreamlike mountain mist, for one instant the faintest sheen of moisture rose within his eyes — but in the blink of an eye it was gone without a trace.

“The world calls our Yu Family the Tianren — generation after generation praised as benevolent and selfless. But only we of the Yu Family know the truth: we are without heart and without feeling.” Yu Wuyuan’s voice was as ethereal as smoke, and the expression on his face was as diffuse and blurred as mist. “I have lived this life without close family or loved ones. To have received from you this kind of friendship and feeling — this life has not been lived in vain. If it were possible, I too would have wished to see with my own eyes as you were enthroned as Emperor, to see you build a world at peace, to be your closest companion through life. Only — my life is no longer mine to command. My time has reached its end.”

“What do you mean?” A strange light flashed in Huang Chao’s eyes. He gripped Yu Wuyuan’s hands tightly.

“‘Why have the Tianren of the Yu Family not been able to live the eternal life of Tianren?'” Yu Wuyuan turned back and looked at Huang Chao. On his face was a self-mocking smile. “Feng Xi once asked me this, in Hua Du.”

“Why have the Tianren of the Yu Family not been able to live the eternal life of Tianren?” Huang Chao repeated, staggered.

“Haha…” Yu Wuyuan laughed — a laugh tinged with desolation, a laugh tinged with sorrow. He spread both palms out before Huang Chao. “Huang Chao — look at my hands. You truly have not noticed? Have you truly not known? My time is nearly spent.”

Huang Chao lowered his eyes to look at the hands gripped in his own. In that instant, a thunderous crash rang out in his mind — and for a moment he went entirely blank. He came back to himself after a moment, looked clearly at those hands — and in that instant, regret and remorse and grief and dread all crashed together at once, so that he felt only a surging, tumbling chaos in his heart, and at the same time a hollow emptiness as though there were nothing there at all.

Those hands were sculpted from white jade. So perfect — without a single flaw. And yet it was precisely that perfection that inspired dread. However well a person’s hands were cared for, however pale and soft and delicate — they would never truly turn to jade. There would always be soft skin and warm blood. But these hands — these hands had not literally petrified into stone. And yet they were scarcely any different from jade. Cold. Translucent. Held in one’s grasp, they did not feel like hands.

And there was something even more shocking. Those hands — the lines of the palms were so faint, so faint they were barely visible. So short — too short to have unfolded into anything. In a person’s life, birth and old age, illness and death, honor and humiliation, success and failure — all of it was contained within those lines. But his… one might almost say there was nothing there at all — everything short, everything absent.

Why? Why had he never known? Why had he never noticed? He said he revered him as a teacher and regarded him as a friend — and yet how had he failed to notice that those hands had changed, failed to notice the secret hidden in those palms?

“Wuyuan—” Huang Chao raised his eyes to look at the person before him, and only now did he notice that his face had become as luminously bright as jade — and yet the spirit between his brows was utterly exhausted. Those eyes, which were always so tranquil, now held a deep and heavy weariness. How had he not noticed?

His hands trembled. His voice trembled. “Wuyuan — I am not worthy to be called your friend.”

“Foolish man.” Yu Wuyuan withdrew his hands, patted him on the shoulder. “This is not your fault. This is a debt created by the Yu Family ourselves.”

“A debt? Does that mean — back then — Jiuluo—” Huang Chao suddenly understood, and his heart sank. “But — that was not the Yu Family’s fault. Shi Di and the Seven Kings were not without blame either. So why is it the Yu Family that bears this? This is unjust. I—”

Yu Wuyuan raised a hand and stopped him from saying more. “The descendants of the Seven Kings should all know of the tragedy of the Qilong Palace in those days. As for knowing that the Yu Family bears the blood curse — only Prince Lan, Feng Ji, was present at that time. He must have passed this knowledge down to his descendants. Although that tragedy in those years began with the Phoenix King, it ended with the Yu Family. The Yu Family bearing all the debt — that was the willing choice of the Yu Family’s people. In the more than three hundred years since, not one generation of our Yu Family has been able to live past thirty — and yet not one of us has harbored resentment toward the Seven Kings. Generation after generation, every one of them walked to the end of their lives without complaint and without regret.”

“We descendants of the Seven Kings have lived in comfort and glory — never knowing that it was all purchased generation after generation with the lives of the Yu Family.” Huang Chao let out a sound that was almost a laugh — a laugh steeped in grief. “But after so many years — can the Yu Family truly not break the blood curse?”

“The blood curse of the Jiuluo royal lineage cannot be broken.” Yu Wuyuan smiled mildly. “The annihilation of the entire Jiuluo clan was paid for by a single Yu Family — in truth, we came out ahead. And so — when you are emperor, you must treat the people of the Jiuluo clan well, to repay the debt our ancestors created in those years.”

“When I am emperor — when I am emperor — when I am emperor there is nothing I cannot do! Wuyuan, stay by my side. I will seek out every miraculous medicine under heaven, seek out every remarkable person under heaven — I will certainly find a way to break the blood curse for the Yu Family. Wuyuan — trust me!” Huang Chao said with urgent desperation.

Yu Wuyuan looked calmly at Huang Chao — looked at the worry and anxiety filling his face — and suddenly felt a loosening throughout his entire body. It seemed as though everything could be set down here, as though there was nothing left to be attached to. Even if his life was nearly at its end — even if he had lived without close family or love throughout his life — was there not this friend before him? Was there not this wholehearted sincerity of his? And so — the Yu Family’s people were serene and few of desire, their requirements of life so very small. With all of this, truly — it was enough.

“Huang Chao — did Shi Di not try every possible means in those years? Have the Yu Family’s people not taxed their minds in every possible way through these three hundred years? Only —” Yu Wuyuan smiled — a smile as light as clouds and as clear as wind, as free and easy as one unburdened by anything at all. “The Yu Family’s people are firm believers in the will of heaven. Our founding ancestor clearly knew the tragedy that the Phoenix King would bring about. He clearly knew the calamity the Yu Family would suffer. And yet he did not kill the Phoenix King upon their first meeting to avoid the calamity — but instead allowed all of it to fulfill its destiny. He had his reasons: perhaps it was that in those troubled times, one brilliant talent could not be spared; perhaps it was for Shi Di; perhaps it was for the friendship between them. And as for me, Yu Wuyuan — though I have no power to change the Yu Family’s fate, I no longer wish to walk along the path that fate has laid out. I want the Yu Family’s fate to end here, with me.”

“Wuyuan—” Huang Chao was shaken by these words, and a sharp pain pierced through his heart. How could he speak so lightly, so serenely, with a smile — that the Tianren Yu Family, whom the world looked up to, would from this time forth vanish from the world forever…

“When a bird is tired, it knows to return. When a fox dies, its head points toward its home.” Yu Wuyuan took Huang Chao’s hand gently. “Huang Chao — even beasts are like this, how much more so people. The people of the Yu Family have never died away from home. We… always come home.”

Huang Chao gripped tight the hands in his — afraid that if he loosened his hold, the person before him would vanish. But even if he held this tight — would that keep him from leaving? Was he destined to have no one beside him?

“After I am gone — you —” Yu Wuyuan sighed softly. “Only — loneliness… it comes as the constant companion of the emperor and the hero alike.”

On the fourth day of the second month.

Huang Chao entered Kang City with only He Qishu and Qiu Jiushuang, riding alone without troops. Qiao Jin and Qi Shu received them with respectful ceremony.

That day, Huang Chao stood high on the city tower, facing alone the hundred thousand troops below. That body of fearless commanding presence, that dominant power in his every glance that surveyed all under heaven — won over the hearts of the Fengmo army.

And yet within that commanding and powerful bearing… there was already a thread of solitude following like a shadow.

That same day, a hundred li beyond Kang City, at the foot of the Yu Mountains, Feng Xi and Fengxi were riding their horses in a slow and leisurely amble, when suddenly from the mountain road came the sound of a carriage passing. A moment later, a procession of horses and carriages appeared, winding toward them at an unhurried pace.

When it drew close enough to make out the figures, who was leading it but the Zhong brothers — Zhong Li and Zhong Yuan?

Fengxi was just puzzling over this when she saw Zhong Li and Zhong Yuan come forward and bow to Feng Xi: “Young Master — everything has been arranged exactly as you instructed.”

“Good.” Feng Xi gave a satisfied nod.

“Black little fox — what in the world is all this? What is all of this for?” Fengxi looked with bewilderment at the procession of horses and carriages. It was a long procession — conservatively, no fewer than fifty vehicles.

“Just a few things I need for daily use.” Feng Xi said this mildly.

“Daily necessities?” Fengxi’s eyes went wide. Fifty carriages’ worth of daily necessities? Her gaze shifted to Zhong Li — the look in her eyes clearly meaning: speak up immediately.

To her surprise, Zhong Li proved quite obliging, and bowed from horseback to give her a full accounting: “Madam — of these fifty carriages, twenty carry gold and silver. The remaining thirty do indeed contain the Young Master’s daily necessities. Ten carriages hold the Young Master’s clothing and headwear. Ten carriages hold the books the Young Master enjoys reading. Five carriages hold the antiques and jade objects the Young Master favors. Three carriages hold the Young Master’s everyday dining vessels. One carriage holds the musical instruments — guqin, dizi, and others — the Young Master has used over the years. And one empty carriage is provided for you and the Young Master to rest in.”

Before Zhong Li had even finished speaking, Fengxi was already looking at Feng Xi with wide, fixed eyes. Before she had time to say a word, Zhong Yuan gave a wave of his hand, and several dozen more people came forward. “These are all people who attend to the Young Master.” He turned to those people. “Please introduce yourselves to Madam.”

Upon this, the people stepped forward one by one, and each bowed before Fengxi’s horse in turn, giving their names in sequence:

“Madam — I am Qian Zhen, who specializes in sewing the Young Master’s clothing.”

“Madam — I am Cang Xiang, who specializes in picking tea for the Young Master.”

“Madam — I am Ju Quan, who specializes in brewing wine for the Young Master.”

“Madam — I am Qing Chi, who specializes in tending the Young Master’s orchids.”

…………

Perhaps the shock was too great, but Fengxi had not even noticed what these people were calling her.

When they had all finished introducing themselves, Fengxi raised her head and sighed at the sky: “What sin did I commit in a past life, that in this life I should encounter such a peculiar creature?”

But Feng Xi seemed to feel this was still not quite sufficient, and added: “The journey ahead is inconvenient — this many attendants will have to do. Once you and I have found a good place to settle, we can take on more household staff.”

“Oh?” Fengxi was by now completely at a loss for words.

The others, meanwhile, were quietly looking over this woman who had made their master give up a realm and a throne.

After a long pause, Fengxi came back to herself, looked at that long procession of carriages, and said: “Traveling along the roads with this much luggage isn’t this inviting robbery?”

“Robbery?” Feng Xi raised a brow. “I would very much like to know who in this world would dare rob my things. Even Huang Chao would have to think twice.”

Just at this moment, a strain of qin music drifted down from the hilltop — clear and secluded as a spring, light and elegant as a breeze, the kind of music that made those who heard it forget the world’s dust.

“That is—”

Fengxi focused her attention to listen. This qin music sounded familiar — and its quality was so free-spirited and effortlessly refined that no ordinary person could play it.

“That night—” Fengxi suddenly understood. Was this not the nameless piece of music that Yu Wuyuan had played on impulse on the peak of the high mountain that night? In an instant she turned her horse’s head toward the Yu Mountains.

The music was growing ever closer, ever clearer — it seemed the player had already descended the mountain.

All the people in the procession below fell quiet and listened to this music that was clear as heaven’s sound. For a moment, everyone was already lost in its spell. Only Feng Xi was calm and composed. He glanced at Fengxi’s barely concealed delight, furrowed his brow slightly — but said nothing.

Finally, a figure, brilliant and pure as moonlight, appeared drifting forward — walking with the ease of someone strolling through a courtyard. And yet in the blink of an eye they were standing before them. An ancient qin was suspended in midair beneath long fingers. Those long fingers brushed lightly, and the clear, elegant music flowed out like running water.

When the piece ended, Yu Wuyuan raised his head. On his face was a serene and tranquil smile.

“I heard the joyous occasion. I came especially to offer my congratulations.” He looked at Fengxi with gentle warmth. “The piece I played that night on the mountain peak — I have given it the name *Qing Ling Yue* — ‘The Limpid Moon’s Reflection.’ This nameless qin goes with the name as well. I offer both as a gift to celebrate your happy union.”

Fengxi looked at Yu Wuyuan, looked at the qin and the music manuscript he held in his hands. She dismounted, stepped forward, reached out and received the gifts, then raised her eyes with a smile that bloomed on her face — as light as a breeze, as sweet as honey: “Thank you.”

Yu Wuyuan smiled in return. “Within this *Qing Ling Yue* is recorded all that I have learned in this lifetime. In hours of leisure, it may offer some small diversion.”

“Mm.” Fengxi nodded. Her gaze fixed on Yu Wuyuan with focused, attentive care. “Once we part today — the chance to meet again may be distant. Take care of yourself.”

*In this life there was no fate between us. I only hope that you go through this life without sorrow and without pain.*

“Take care.” Yu Wuyuan also looked at her one long moment.

*In this life there was no fate between us. I only hope that you go through this life free and at ease.*

His gaze passed over Fengxi and met Feng Xi’s across the distance. Both gave a mild, unhurried smile — dissolving between them all grievances and enmity and entanglement. From this day forth — let each forget the other in the rivers and lakes.

They pressed their palms together and bowed to each other in farewell.

Fengxi watched until Yu Wuyuan’s figure disappeared from sight, then turned her head. “We should set out.”

Feng Xi gave a single nod. The two of them rode side by side. The long procession of carriages followed behind, keeping a respectful distance.

From this day on — their new journey began. To the ends of the earth and the corner of the sea, wandering and singing as they went.

And on a hillside, two slender figures watched silently as they disappeared into the distance.

After walking half a li, Yu Wuyuan sat down beneath a tree, closed his eyes, and regulated his breathing. Only after a long while did he open his eyes and rise, looking back the way he had come. There was already no trace of anyone there. From this day forth, truly — to meet again would be the most distant thing.

He let out a quiet, soundless sigh — and then cast aside all the mortal world’s old affairs.

“Young Master Yu?” A cool, restrained voice seemed to carry a trace of hesitation.

He turned. Standing a zhang away was a beauty cold as frost, and beside her a young girl with a face full of sweet smiles.

He was truly nearly at the end now — to be within a zhang of a person and not have noticed them. A warm and gentle smile rose on his face nonetheless. “Miss Feng — it has been a long time.”

“I never expected that I would still be able to see you, Young Master Yu. Qiwu is truly fortunate.” Even Feng Qiwu’s cold and strikingly beautiful face could not help but bloom with a faint smile.

Beside her, Xiao’er was watching Yu Wuyuan with wide, curious eyes. She had traveled the rivers and lakes with her young mistress, but this was her first time seeing the man ranked first under heaven. He truly was without equal in the world. Only — why did his complexion look so utterly exhausted?

Yu Wuyuan gave a small nod toward Xiao’er by way of greeting, then turned his attention to Feng Qiwu. “Has Miss Feng come to see them off?”

“Yes.” Feng Qiwu nodded, and raised her gaze toward the now-empty distance. With a faint trace of wistfulness she said: “I simply wanted to see them off.”

“Miss Feng has thought things through.” Yu Wuyuan looked at her with a trace of admiration. She too was a person of fine intuition and intelligence.

“Qiwu was foolish — it was only when the Feng Wang was injured that I finally understood.” Feng Qiwu smiled with a degree of self-mockery. “In the entirety of her life, to him Qiwu was never more than a blurred shadow in the background. What was the point of making things difficult for others and for herself? Better to let it all go and live freely at ease.”

“Well said — freely at ease.” Yu Wuyuan nodded approvingly. “What are Miss Feng’s plans from here?”

Feng Qiwu turned to glance at Xiao’er, and said: “Qiwu is like a piece of driftwood — wherever I end up is fine. But the Young Master took pity on me and arranged for Xiao’er to keep me company. I cannot let her suffer the hardships of the road because of me. So I had been thinking of finding a quiet and peaceful place where the two of us could spend the rest of our days in stability and comfort.”

“I see.” Yu Wuyuan’s gaze drifted to Xiao’er. She was all sweet smiles — and yet her eyes held an inner radiance. She clearly had her own martial arts training, which was why Feng Xi had been willing to leave Feng Qiwu at ease. Only — two slight and slender young women wandering the rivers and lakes was not ideal. Making a life in an unfamiliar place would also be difficult. He sighed softly, and at last said: “Since Miss Feng simply wishes to find a quiet place to live — then come with me.”

“Hm?” Feng Qiwu looked at him with puzzlement.

“I will give Miss Feng the Yu Family’s residence.” Yu Wuyuan’s gaze drifted lightly toward the sky.

“What? That I absolutely cannot accept!” Feng Qiwu immediately moved to decline.

“Miss Feng need not feel any hesitation about this.” Yu Wuyuan looked at Feng Qiwu in an unhurried tone — but his gaze passed through her and fell into another emptiness beyond. “I do not have long in this world. The Yu Family will have no descendants after me. A few thatched rooms — with Miss Feng there, they will not go to waste.”

“What?” Feng Qiwu was shaken. She stared wide-eyed at the person before her — jade-like and spirit-like in his appearance — and could not bring herself to believe what he had just said.

Xiao’er, for her part, knew that Yu Wuyuan spoke the truth. She looked at this person she had only just met for the first time, this person speaking of his own life and death with such lightness and ease — and for reasons she could not explain, her heart was filled with a vast and desolate sorrow.

Yet Yu Wuyuan continued in the same unhurried, tranquil voice: “Miss Feng’s life still stretches long before her. In time, finding a compatible person — and spending a life that is simple and peaceful and happy — that is no bad thing.”

With those words, he shifted his gaze toward the nine heavens, brought his lips together, and gave a long, clear whistle.

That clear whistle pierced straight into the nine heavens. That clear whistle carried its sound a hundred li. That clear whistle rang out in sorrow and exhaustion. That clear whistle lingered and faded like a thread of silk.

Far off in the sky, a white shape drifted toward them. As it drew closer, it became clear — four white-robed figures, carrying a white soft-sedan chair, riding the wind.

“At last… it is time to go home.”

He closed his eyes gently. Heaven and earth were shut away.

He let go of everything — all the body’s tensions, all the mind’s resistances — scattered and dissolved.

His body felt light and floating. His heart felt light and floating. Everything drifted far away.

“Young Master Yu!” In the haze, there was the faint sound of an urgent, anxious call.

There is no need to call. No need for grief either. Some people have nothing in life to make them linger. For them, death is the way home.