After leaving Ding Panling’s tent, Yi Sa stood at the entrance for a while.

Though unclear what she was looking at, everything entered her vision: distant bright snow caps made that part of the sky appear white, meandering silver streams like densely stitched seams wove together patches of brownish-green moss, morning cooking smoke drifted gracefully between tents, and occasional passersby cast vigorous shadows in the morning light.

Yi Sa sighed, clutching the soft-covered notebook as she walked to the side. But this whole area was flat ground, exposed without shelter, everything visible at a glance – there was no suitable place to be alone quietly.

She walked to a slope at the edge of the camp, tossed down the notebook as a cushion, and sat down.

The pant leg slightly rode up from the sitting pressure, revealing part of the tattoo on her ankle.

Yi Sa pulled up her pant leg and pulled down her sock, finally exposing the entire tattoo.

“Go die.”

Damn it, why did she get these words tattooed in the first place?

She couldn’t remember, probably teenage rebellion when life seemed infinite and vitality abundant – she liked to treat words about death like chewing gum, chomping away all day to show how unique she was. She remembered that day was sunny, and when she was indecisive about the font style, the tattoo artist recommended Shou Jin style, saying the characters were “written thin and forceful, reaching thinness without losing substance” – just like her, slender and delicate but full of spirit.

She liked that flattery, so she got it done.

Looking back now, she involuntarily shuddered, feeling that some prophecy of fate had already climbed onto the ink-dipped needle tip many years ago, carefully piercing into her skin, like when Bian Que saw Duke Huan of Cai and warned of “My lord has an illness” – in the skin’s texture, in the flesh, in the intestines – by the time she glimpsed the mystery, it was already in her bone marrow.

If she’d known, she should have tattooed something like “long life and prosperity” instead.

Someone passed by nearby, and Yi Sa looked up.

It was Ding Qi.

Ding Qi saw her too, instinctively lowering his head to avoid her.

Yi Sa shouted: “Hey Ding!”

Then beckoned to him: “Come here.”

Me? Ding Qi hesitated, even looking around to confirm there were no other Dings around.

He walked over.

Yi Sa remained seated, squinting up at him, raising two fingers in a pinching gesture: “Got any cigarettes?”

If he hadn’t noticed the absence of an alcohol smell, Ding Qi would have thought she was drunk.

Something was off – he became somewhat alert: “No, and besides, don’t you smoke cigarettes, only cigarette poles?”

Yi Sa lowered her hand with a cold laugh, her fingertips touching the ground and plucking some frosted moss to slowly rub in her palm: “Can’t I change my taste? Let me ask you, why are you suddenly sucking up to Ding Panling?”

Ding Qi remained expressionless: “Uncle Panling is an elder. When he assigns me tasks, it’s proper for me to do them. How is that sucking up?”

Yi Sa smiled provocatively: “No, you suddenly realized Ding Panling can keep Ding Changsheng in check, has more influence, more scheming ability – you think following him will give you better protection. But let me tell you, I don’t care. No matter who you follow, no matter how big an umbrella covers your head, I’ll still settle accounts with you when I need to.”

Ding Qi frowned: “Yi Sa, why take everything so seriously? I want to start anew – if you could give me a break, it would be good for everyone.”

Yi Sa nearly jumped up: “Bullshit! Is that how you use the phrase ‘start anew’?”

She pointed at Ding Qi: “You’re just tired of doing dirty work, fed up with it, and feel it’s risky, with people like me pursuing you relentlessly, so you want to switch to an easier way of life. Those past accounts – you won’t clear them, won’t speak up, won’t explain – hoping everyone won’t pursue it, cut you some slack, and everything will be fine, right?”

Ding Qi didn’t want to continue: “Early morning – did you take the wrong medicine?”

He turned to leave but suddenly felt a tight grip on his ankle. Looking down, he saw Yi Sa persistently holding his pant leg.

“Let me ask you something else – what’s going on with you and Jing Xiu? Did you fall in love with her?”

Ding Qi was helpless, not understanding why she suddenly went crazy. Yi Sa had always been at odds with him before, but not this nonsensical.

He forcefully pulled his pant leg free: “I don’t know anything about love, I don’t care about such things.”

Yi Sa laughed mockingly: “Weren’t you going to start anew? Then start by not harming people. If you don’t love her, don’t fucking pretend with your false retreat to advance, giving keys and showing concern – disgusting!”

Ding Qi stared at her for a long while, then suddenly smiled: “From what you’re saying, if Jing Xiu ends up with me, it’s a dead end. Want to make a bet? Maybe choosing me will be the luckiest choice of her life?”

Yi Sa mumbled: “Saying that, you truly have no shame left.”

She looked up at the sky.

Who knows how the heavens decide lifespans – like cutting chives, might cut her off at any time, yet let people like Ding Qi continue living, living well.

When Zong Hang woke up early, Yi Sa was nowhere to be seen.

After washing up, she still hadn’t returned. He first thought she went to find Ding Panling, but saw Ding Panling talking with Ding Changsheng. Then he thought she went for breakfast, but she wasn’t in the makeshift dining tent either.

Zong Hang had to search around the camp. While asking someone who looked approachable, Ding Qi passed by with an unpleasant expression. Having overheard their conversation, he coldly said: “She’s having an episode over there, and no one’s watching her.”

An episode?

A vein throbbed in Zong Hang’s forehead: today was the 19th.

Ignoring the altitude sickness, he sprinted toward where Ding Qi indicated, soon seeing Yi Sa sitting on the ground, hugging her knees, head down.

Reaching her, out of breath, Zong Hang bent over holding his knees, each word broken by heavy breathing: “Yi Sa… are… you okay?”

Yi Sa looked up at him, her eyes bewildered.

Just moments ago, she had been like an inflated thorny ball, rolling and pricking at Ding Qi mindlessly, but she quickly discovered: that randomly picking someone to vent at didn’t make her feel better.

So she wilted, feeling like her entire body had lost its flesh, leaving only a skeleton struggling to hold up a sagging human skin.

Zong Hang sensed something was wrong: “Yi Sa, what’s wrong?”

Wasn’t she fine before going to sleep?

Yi Sa stared at his face, suddenly blurting out: “Zong Hang, your face is dirty.”

Really? Zong Hang instinctively touched his face: it shouldn’t be, he’d just washed his face and looked fresh and clean in the mirror.

Yi Sa said: “Come here, bring your face closer, lower.”

Zong Hang complied, lowering his face.

Yi Sa reached out, pinched a bit of flesh on his cheek, and pulled it to the side, then again.

Zong Hang suddenly realized what was happening, quickly raising his head and covering the reddened spot: “Hey, you’re bullying me on purpose!”

Yi Sa giggled, almost crying from laughter. She wiped her eyes with her finger and said: “Yes, it was on purpose. What are you going to do about it?”

What could he do? Besides, today was the 19th – he didn’t want her to get even a little angry, better if she could be happy.

So he changed the subject.

“Have you eaten? There’s food in the tent – if you go late, you’ll only get leftovers.”

Yi Sa shook her head, patting the ground beside her: “Sit down and talk.”

Zong Hang sat down, spreading his hands toward her: “Your hands were so cold just now, want me to warm them up?”

Yi Sa glanced at him sideways: “You just want to hold my hands, don’t you?”

Zong Hang was upset: “Am I that kind of person? I just saw your hands were cold and purely wanted to warm them up. You must have been sitting here for a long time, your hands are like ice blocks.”

Yi Sa looked down at her hands.

They were ice-cold and dirty from rubbing moss, with some sand and plant juice on them.

She dusted off her hands and extended them, clasped together.

Zong Hang quickly cupped his hands around hers, lowering his head to breathe warm air into his palms – he’d learned this from TV, thinking it would help warm them up.

His hands were truly warm, clean, and slender, with healthy glowing, neatly trimmed nails – she dared not imagine that one day these hands would become withered and wrinkled, the nails falling off.

Looking up, half his face was bathed in the early morning light, his facial features very gentle, without the kind of cold, sharp pressure some faces give. Even if the world wasn’t very kind to him, he hadn’t tensed up against it –

Fine, almost colorless down reflected on his smooth forehead, and when happy, both his eyes and mouth corners turned slightly upward, that curve as if trying to hold every drop of laughter, collecting it full and complete.

Yi Sa realized she truly liked him – his whole life, the corners of his eyes and brows should never be shadowed by gloom.

She took a deep breath, pushing back all the tender feelings in her heart, lost in thought for a moment before saying softly: “Zong Hang, go home.”

Zong Hang casually replied: “I know, once this is over, I’ll go home. Don’t know how to explain to my parents though – can’t tell the truth, but can’t make up a good excuse either.”

Yi Sa said: “It’s already over, you can go home now.”

Huh?

Zong Hang was confused: “Didn’t we just go down to the Drifting Cave last night, Ding Panling said not to rush to conclusions…”

“Yes, but who knows when he’ll uncover the truth – maybe a year, two years. Are you going to keep waiting and not go home?”

Yi Sa’s words always made sense, but Zong Hang’s mind was a bit chaotic: “But Ding Panling said I’m the only special one, he thinks keeping me around is useful, he won’t let me leave.”

“It’s fine, I’ll talk to him. You’ve already helped a lot – last night, you almost got crushed to death by the Taisui – how dangerous! Let the Three Families handle their affairs, they have money and people anyway. Don’t foolishly risk your life for them.”

Zong Hang corrected her: “It’s not all about helping them – I only went because you went.”

Yi Sa made a sound of agreement, then after a while withdrew her hands and got up from the ground, rolling up the soft-covered notebook: “Then go pack up, I’ll ask Ding Panling if there’s a spare car. If there is, we’ll arrange to send you back as soon as possible.”

Zong Hang was startled: “So fast?”

This was too sudden – there hadn’t been any sign of this last night. Zong Hang spoke incoherently: “Then… what about you?”

“The Three Families still have some matters, I need to stay busy for a while.”

“Then I’ll wait for you – anyway… it’s not urgent to leave in these few days.”

“Zong Hang, your parents still think you’re dead – do you think sending two postcards is comforting? Before you couldn’t leave, that was understandable. Now you have the chance but you’re dawdling – how can you face yourself?”

Her tone was a bit harsh. Zong Hang’s face suddenly turned bright red, and after a long while he quietly explained: “It’s not that, I just wasn’t mentally prepared… how about tomorrow?”

“Why must you delay a day?”

Zong Hang mumbled: “Your blood vessels will burst tonight – with me here if something happens, I can help cover for you.”

Yi Sa felt warmth in her heart, her tone softening considerably: “Then I’ll go ask.”

Ding Panling had just pulled back his blanket, preparing to catch up on sleep, when Yi Sa came in.

Her whole demeanor was rigid, the prickly kind.

Ding Panling suddenly felt Yi Sa was like a copper bean – no bad news could flatten her, instead making her more alert and defensive.

He spoke kindly: “Sasa, what’s the matter?”

“Uncle Panling, please help arrange a car later to send Zong Hang home. You know his situation – after the incident in Cambodia, he hasn’t contacted his family yet. He’s been running around with us lately, went to Hukou, went down to the cave – he’s been unlucky enough, he has no obligation to keep working for the Three Families.”

Ding Panling was somewhat surprised: “Does it have to be arranged so urgently? Sasa, you act as soon as you speak…”

Yi Sa stared at Ding Panling: “Uncle Panling, aren’t you missing something?”

Ding Panling was stunned: “Missing what?”

Yi Sa reminded him: “Didn’t you say before that Zong Hang was the most special one, and having him around would make dealing with ‘them’ more stable? Why aren’t you saying that now, not keeping him? Or did you know early on that he wasn’t the only special one?”

Ding Panling finally realized.

To be outmaneuvered by a younger generation – he felt a bit embarrassed.

But Yi Sa smiled: “I should have known earlier. You’re always one step ahead in everything, how could you be blind about this alone? That’s right, I really am, I am one – if you don’t believe it, I can show you proof tonight. So you don’t need Zong Hang at all, having me is enough.”

Ding Panling was silent for a moment, then asked: “What stage are you at?”

Yi Sa didn’t respond, then after a pause said: “Best if the car is today. If Zong Hang asks, just tell him only today works.”

“Isn’t today too rushed?”

How strange – was she the only one in this world who believed that farewells should be like swift knife cuts, without attachment or lingering, one cut to separate worlds?

Farewells shouldn’t drag on. If they drag on too long, you can never truly say goodbye.