Ming Zhu’er, however, remained unforgiving. “That’s right. Although the people at Prince Xiang Yang’s estate captured the Third Young Master, as long as the yellow silk scroll wasn’t on him, they would try to extract its location from him without harming him. But once they obtain the yellow silk scroll, they’ll know he’ll never align with them and will do everything in his power to stop their plans. They would have no reason to let him live. Even I, just a servant, can see something this simple. How could anyone else fall for their trap?”
The young girl sharply rebuked, “Zhu’er!”
Though her voice was not loud, it carried an authority that made Ming Zhu’er fall silent immediately. Still dissatisfied, he shot Huo Ling Long a resentful glare.
Clearly obedient to his sister, Ming Zhu’er lowered his voice and said, “In that case, we must hurry to Xiang Yang and rescue the Third Young Master! Sister, I’ll arrange for you to stay with Master Yan in Xiang Yang, then I’ll head straight to Prince Xiang Yang’s estate.”
A layer of worry clouded the girl’s delicate features as she replied, “Prince Xiang Yang’s estate is undoubtedly a dragon’s lair and a tiger’s den, fraught with danger. How can I let you face it alone?”
Ming Zhu’er retorted, “How can we afford to worry about that now? If something happens to the Third Young Master, how could I live with myself? Even if it means death, I’ll die by his side!”
The young girl chided him gently, “Such reckless talk for someone so young! You really do live up to the name ‘Ghosts Fear Ghosts’!”
Ming Zhu’er said, “When we get there, I’ll adapt to the situation as it unfolds. Even if Xiang Yang City is truly the dragon’s lair and tiger’s den you claim it to be, can it really be more dangerous than Dong Jing and Bian Liang? Sister, you should wait for news from me at Master Yan’s residence.”
The young girl replied, “We’ve depended on each other since we were young. At such a critical moment, how can I let you go alone?”
Ming Zhu’er hesitated and said, “I’m afraid the situation will be dire, and if… if by some chance, the Third Young Master—”
His voice faltered, his body trembled, and he couldn’t finish his sentence. His nose tingled, and tears welled up in his eyes, threatening to spill over despite his efforts to hold them back.
The young girl’s expression, however, remained calm. She looked at the night slowly descending over them, sighed softly, and said faintly, “If something happens to him, how could I go on living?”
* * *
At some point, the rain began to drizzle down again, its soft patter filling the silence.
The young girl sighed gently and said, “Ming Zhu’er, let’s be on our way. Xiang Yang City—eventually, we must go there. It’s not that far from here.”
Ming Zhu’er responded, “Yes.”
But before leaving, he turned back once more to glare fiercely at Huo Ling Long, who still stood dazed in place.
In the light rain, he held an umbrella in one hand and supported his sister with the other.
Although his stature was small, he stood tall with his chest puffed out like a soldier heading into battle, protecting the person he cherished most. No matter what dangers lay ahead, he carried an unshakable confidence.
In the rain and mist, the two small figures gradually faded into the encroaching darkness of the evening.
The road to Xiang Yang lay ahead.
After walking for a while, Ming Zhu’er turned to look back at the road behind them. In the distance, he could barely make out Huo Ling Long’s figure, growing smaller and smaller. Though the yellow-robed girl’s face was now indistinguishable, she remained standing motionless by the roadside.
The wind rose.
It cut sharply through the air, making the rain even heavier, soaking into hearts already shattered and leaving a bone-deep chill.
Huo Ling Long stood frozen in the rain, her mind shrouded in confusion. The fine drizzle, carried by the wind, fell relentlessly, washing over her face. In that moment, her face seemed to have aged, her spirit worn thin.
In the vast darkness of the night, someone played a soft melody on a flute.
Faintly, a gentle voice sang a mournful tune:
“Matters of past and present are vast and hazy,
To speak of fate would break the heart.
Through Wu and Yue’s mountains and rivers I’ve searched,
Yet return to my boat, drifting past Qutang Gorge.”
Ming Yu’er’s song drifted farther and farther away, while Huo Ling Long’s tears finally spilled uncontrollably.
The world before her became a blur, shrouded in mist. She couldn’t tell whether it was rain or tears obscuring her vision.
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