High on the back slope of the small bamboo house, where the air was cooler and the wind rustled the tall bamboo stalks, Yuan Chaomei sat silently opposite Wen Huifang. The ground beneath them was a carpet of fallen, amber leaves and pine needles. The only sounds were the gentle, rhythmic snip of thread and the soft hiss of the needle passing through the heavy fabric of the black cloak Wen Huifang was meticulously sewing. Sunlight dappled through the bamboo canopy, casting shifting, sharp shadows over their secluded perch.
Wen Huifang smiled at Yuan Chaomei, her eyes crinkling. "Do you think the chief will like this?"
"I think he will like it. The chief isn't a picky person," Yuan Chaomei replied. She looked at Wen Huifang curiously. "Wen qianbei, what's the occasion? Why the sudden urge to make the chief a cloak?"
Wen Huifang smiled, continuing her precise needlework. "When I was a teenager, I planned to make Right Guard Zan a cloak for the day he took the leader seat and became the new leader of the Sunset Sect, but our sector was destroyed before I could finish it. This time, I want to make sure that the day chief walks into Central Plains, he'll be wearing this cloak."
Their quiet moment was abruptly broken when Yuan Zixin walked into the room, his movements hurried and tense. He stood before the two women and bowed briefly to Wen Huifang. "Wen Qianbei, where is the chief now? I need to discuss something with him."
Wen Huifang didn't lift her gaze from her stitching. She took the needle, scratched her forehead twice, and replied calmly, "Chief is in seclusion. Chief ordered us not to disturb him."
"Where is this seclusion?" Yuan Zixin demanded, his impatience mounting.
Wen Huifang smiled faintly. "I don't know, nor dare to ask." She looked up, her expression reassuring. "Zixin, you don't have to worry about anything. The chief already has a plan to kill the enemies."
Yuan Zixin pushed, chasing a rumor. "I've heard that the chief is practicing a new skill. Is this real or not?"
Wen Huifang finally raised her head and gently rolled her eyes at his insistent questioning. "Real or not, we'll see in a couple of days."
Yuan Zixin paced slightly. "I've prepared so many plans for this day, and I won't let anyone destroy it."
Yuan Chaomei stepped in to shield her leader. "Godfather, the chief doesn't tell us about this kind of thing. Please stop asking!"
Yuan Zixin focused his frustration on his daughter. "Have you met him since he went into seclusion?"
"Yes," Yuan Chaomei admitted.
Wen Huifang chuckled softly. "You see, your daughter even vouches."
Yuan Zixin glared. "Where is he?"
"I'm sorry, Father, I don't know," Yuan Chaomei insisted. "A few days ago, chief said he would go into seclusion, but we don't know where."
Yuan Zixin's face darkened with suspicion. "Is the chief avoiding me?"
Yuan Chaomei shook her head. "Father, please don't ask me, because I don't know."
"Very well! Such a loyal subject! You stay here and take care of Wen qianbei," Yuan Zixin snapped, turning and storming out of the small clearing in anger.
Wen Huifang watched him go, then shook her head sadly as she returned to her work. "What a pity that Yuan Dai-xiong's son turned out this way." The rhythmic snipping of the thread resumed, counting down the time until the chief's return.
Five days after the sects and clans agreed to take a second look inside the Mu Treasure Cave, the road was choked with a surging current of martial artists from dozens of different sects and clans, all converging on a single, legendary destination.
The group of six from Li Village pushed forward, traversing the dusty, rutted dirt road that was now a river of people. They constantly wove through a dense, churning current of martial artists from countless sects and clans, whose chatter and footsteps filled the air. Finally arriving at the foot of the mountain, they were greeted by a sprawling, chaotic encampment. The open-air roadside teahouse—and every patch of ground surrounding it—was completely swallowed up by the waiting multitudes, all seated, standing, or squatting in an impatient, buzzing throng.
Cao Yanmei, who had experienced the deadly dangers of the Mu Treasure Cave, frowned in disdain. "Look at these idiots, they will die sooner or later." She sighed heavily.
Just then, someone touched her left shoulder, and she quickly turned around. "Red qianbei!" she exclaimed, recognizing Red Mice, a member of the unorthodox Beixing Sect.
Red Mice motioned with his head. "We are sitting over there."
Cao Yanmei's eyes scanned the crowd for a familiar face. "My ge, is he here?"
Red Mice simply nodded. Cao Yanmei immediately followed Red Mice towards the far end of the encampment, where a group of Beixing Sector members were sitting, clearly set apart from the orthodox crowd.
Rao Zhengsheng watched Cao Yanmei disappear into the chaotic sea of people. He scanned the crowded encampment and sighed, realizing they were out of options. "I think we might be sitting on the ground," he said to his companions.
Dong Lanying shrugged. "Well, that's better than having to stand up to eat."
Just then, a hand touched Rao Zhengsheng's shoulder, making him turn around. "Wu-xiong," he greeted gently, recognizing the familiar face.
Wu Jianping, the new Chief of the Mangsha Sect, stepped forward. "Rao-xiong," he replied warmly.
Rao Zhengsheng smiled faintly. "Oh, I forgot, you're the new chief now."
"Eh, we were friends before I became chief, so just call me like before," Wu Jianping insisted. He then pointed to a table nearby. "Rao-xiong, Yuan guniang, if you don't mind, please come sit at my table."
Rao Zhengsheng took Xue Horan's hand, and the group gratefully followed Wu Jianping to his table. Once everyone was seated, Rao Zhengsheng and Wu Jianping immediately began to converse, catching up.
Meanwhile, Yongzheng looked at the gathered multitudes. Seeing there was no easy place for him to sit with the others, he decided to retreat. He quietly walked to a spot farther away and sat down alone beneath a large tree. Accustomed to solitude, he didn't mind the distance from the buzzing martial artists.
Xue Horan turned around and watched Yongzheng, who sat alone beneath a distant tree, isolated from the bustling crowd. He glanced back at Rao Zhengsheng, who was deeply engrossed in conversation with Wu Jianping and Wei Shuai. Quietly, Xue Horan stood up and walked over to the harried teahouse owner.
"What food do you have?" Xue Horan asked.
The owner looked overwhelmed. "I'm sorry, I'm backed up with orders. You'll have to wait one to two hours before I can complete anything for you."
"Is there anything else?" Xue Horan pressed.
The owner pointed toward a small counter. "You could either eat pork steamed buns or plain rice."
"Can I get ten pork steamed buns and a pot of tea?"
The owner shouted toward his wife, "Laopo, give this young man ten pork steamed buns and a pot of tea!"
The owner's wife quickly placed seven steamed buns on a plate, along with a small bowl and a pot of tea and set them in front of Xue Horan.
"I'm sorry, young gongzi," the wife said. "These are the last seven steam pork buns."
Xue Horan smiled, unfazed. "It's alright, it's better than nothing." He paid the owner's wife, grabbed the plate of buns, the pot of tea, and the small bowl, and walked toward Yongzheng.
When Yongzheng saw Xue Horan approaching, he stood up quickly. "Horan..."
Xue Horan handed the plate of steamed buns to him. Yongzheng looked at the food and then at Xue Horan, offering a quiet, simple, "Thank you."
Xue Horan sat down first. "Do you want to eat while standing?" Yongzheng sat down immediately beside him. "I asked the owner, but he said he has too many orders, so today we have to eat this. I originally wanted to buy ten, but he only had seven." He poured the tea into the small bowl and handed it to Yongzheng.
Yongzheng took the bowl from Xue Horan's hand and sipped the tea. He looked at Xu Horan and said, "Horan, you can return to sit at the table."
Xue Horan smiled at him, leaning back against the tree trunk. "I don't know what those people are talking about or what they're boasting about. Listening to them is like listening to another language." He grabbed a steamed pork bun and handed it to Yongzheng. "I would rather sit here, eat under this tree, and wait for the wind with you."
Yongzheng smiled and took the steamed bun, continuing to eat. He watched Xue Horan pick up the same bowl of tea and drink from it, sharing the single bowl without a thought. The two men sat, embracing the quiet calm beneath the tree, happily eating their pork steamed buns together.
After the waiter had finally put the dishes on the table, Rao Zhengsheng immediately noticed Xue Horan wasn't seated next to Yuan Xiurong. He scanned the encampment and found Xue Horan and Yongzheng sitting together beneath a distant tree, eating and drinking from the same bowl.
He watched, transfixed, as Xue Horan picked up the very last steamed bun on the plate, broke it precisely in half, gave one half to Yongzheng, and ate the other himself. Rao Zhengsheng's hands clenched instantly; his heart hammered wildly in his chest, consumed by a fierce surge of anger and jealousy.
Unaware of the silent, burning gaze upon them, Xue Horan leaned back, content. "Yongzheng, it feels pretty good to eat on the side of the road like this. I want to travel around this land and taste all kinds of delicious food."
"Alright, I will accompany you," Yongzheng replied simply, his gaze steady.
Xue Horan turned his head to look at Yongzheng, his smile wide and genuine. "This is a promise. Let us travel together one day and taste all the food that the world offers us."
Yongzheng smiled back, sealing the vow. "Alright."