I had almost forgotten that there would come a day when I’d need to return to the West Jiang Tribe. But I never expected to face Zijing again so soon.
It happened unexpectedly, during an otherwise uneventful day. I looked up to find him sitting calmly beside me, his expression unreadable. He handed me a folded note without a word, and before I could even open it, he muttered, “Alright. Take a few days to rest.”
“Master…” I began, but my voice came out hoarse. I tried to say more, but the lump in my throat stopped me.
Zijing glanced at me briefly, his gaze cool, and then he turned away, leaving without another word.
I didn’t know what was happening in his heart. My own emotions were a tangled mess of fear, confusion, and faint resentment. Why was he so distant? Why was it so hard for me to read him? Was it that he cared too much—or not at all?
I spent the next several days tending to my injuries, but Zijing only came by once to check my pulse. Other than that, he didn’t speak to me. He didn’t ask questions, nor did he offer explanations. It was as though nothing had happened between us. Each time I tried to say something, the words stuck in my throat.
Perhaps he was as conflicted as I was. Or maybe, this was his way of preparing me for something I didn’t yet understand. Either way, I overheard his final words to the tribe elder: “I saved three sisters and returned a woman to the West Jiang Tribe. That’s all.”
His tone was distant, devoid of emotion.
What did that even mean? Even the elder seemed at a loss.
Zijing saved the three sisters. Does that mean he’s already gone to the West Jiang Tribe? But why did he leave? Why did he take me with him? He shouldn’t have… shouldn’t he?
“Go back…”
“To where I came from.”
I lowered my head, confused. “Then why take me with you? What about me?” My voice trembled as I tried to find some semblance of reason. I wasn’t physically strong, and I wasn’t capable of contributing much. I thought about my mother and the weight of three lives on my shoulders. If not for them, I wouldn’t have been able to hold on this far.
Zijing only glanced at me. “I’ll send you to the village. If someone’s willing to take you in, they will.”
“To where?” I asked.
“To wherever it doesn’t concern me.”
His tone was cold, detached, and it made my heart clench painfully.
Zijing’s words about “someone else” felt like a sharp blade cutting through the fragile thread that held me together. That woman, so gentle and beautiful, seemed like she had misunderstood my connection to Zijing. I thought about explaining, but my throat tightened. If misunderstandings were meant to grow over time, it wasn’t my place to resolve them.
In hindsight, I could sense Zijing distancing himself from me. At first, I chalked it up to the peculiar circumstances of my life, but it seemed that his estrangement went much deeper.
I asked hesitantly, “Zijing, did you ever regret it?”
“Who in this world doesn’t have regrets?” he replied with a faint sneer.
“Well…” I trailed off, unsure how to continue. Zijing’s tone was dismissive, but something about his answer made me feel as though he was protecting himself from acknowledging the weight of his decisions. He didn’t elaborate further, as if leaving things unsaid was the safest option for him.
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