In the main hall of the Rao Manor, a rare moment of peace settled over the luncheon table. Yongzheng, Rao Zhengsheng, Dong Shun, Cao Yanmei, Yuan Xiurong, and Yuan Zixin were gathered when the housekeeper entered.
Housekeeper Li handed a letter to Rao Zhengsheng. "Chief, this letter just arrived for you."
Rao Zhengsheng's heart seized. He recognized the elegant, specific address to "Zhen ge." He knew instantly. "This is from Horan," he announced, a wave of profound relief washing over him.
Cao Yanmei leaned in. "How do you know?"
"From the handwriting," Rao Zhengsheng explained softly, his eyes fixed on the script, "and the only person I know who calls me Zhen ge is Horan."
Yuan Xiurong smiled brightly. "Rao gege, take a look! He might tell us where he is."
Yongzheng watched the exchange, a familiar sadness settling over him. After months of silence, Horan had written, but only to Rao Zhengsheng. Though the pain was still there, he accepted the reality: Horan's deepest loyalty belonged to his Da shixiong, not to him.
Rao Zhengsheng tore open the envelope, his eyes scanning the contents before reading them aloud, his voice thick with emotion:
"Da shixiong, I am writing to tell you that I am doing well. My travels in the past few months have taken me to different places and I've eaten many different foods. I think my cooking skills have improved a lot.
In addition, I met shijie, and please tell Yanmei that Cao furen is doing well. Shijie is now married, and her husband is Xue Long. She has five adopted children—her first adopted son is Xue Zhengsheng, her daughter is Nuo, her other son is Nu, and her youngest daughter is Rou. She is pregnant now, guess what she will call her child. If you guess Horan, then you are correct.
Da shixiong, I want to tell you, I found my happiness, and my happiness is not with you. Get married and have children. Shijie is younger than you, she is about to have her first child, and you are our da shixiong, so don't lose to her. Horan."
A deflated Cao Yanmei asked, "That's it?"
"That's it," Rao Zhengsheng confirmed.
Yuan Xiurong frowned, concerned. "He didn't tell us where he was, nor did he tell us where Lanying was?"
Rao Zhengsheng's face clouded with regret. "Maybe he doesn't want us to know."
Yongzheng quietly reminded him, "He once told me that his destination is unknown."
Rao Zhengsheng's grief immediately twisted into raw anger. "When did he tell you this?"
"A few days before he left," Yongzheng replied.
Rao Zhengsheng slammed his fist onto the table. "You knew this, but you didn't tell me!"
Yongzheng didn't back down. "What did you plan to do? Leave Xiurong and marry him publicly?"
Dong Shun, seeing the familiar path to a brawl, quickly stepped in, his voice ringing with final authority. "Alright, stop it! Horan has already given you two blessings. He is very happy and finally found his passion and happiness. After the four households meeting, Zhengsheng and Xiurong will get married. This is my decision." He looked at Yongzheng. "As for you..."
Yongzheng interrupted him, delivering his long-awaited decision. "I am going home. I decided I want to become a Taoist and live in the back hill with my shifu and juniors."
Dong Shun tried one last appeal. "Would you like to think about it? Even if you don't want to marry Yanmei, there are still many women out there."
"I have made up my mind," Yongzheng stated firmly.
Yuan Zixin nodded. "He made up his mind, then we should let him go."
Yongzheng stood, giving his simple farewell. "If you need me, you know where to find me."
Rao Zhengsheng, defeated in his love but accepting of his destiny, replied, "You also know where we are."
Early in the morning, before the rooster's first call, Yongzheng quietly left Rao Manor. He walked the winding mountain road until it merged with the main path. He paused there, knowing his journey south was a final severance from his past. He acknowledged the truth of Xue Horan's words: even if only a tiny fraction of their love was sweet, that moment of pure connection, when he first fell for Horan's innocence, was his greatest treasure. Though Horan hadn't chosen him, Yongzheng felt no regret; he had genuinely loved and cared for someone for the first time in his life.
Yongzheng decided his path. He would retrace his and Horan's journey all the way to Jiangnan, arriving at Li Village. There, he planned to leave the martial world entirely, spending the rest of his life in the old temple, never stepping outside its walls.
A week later, Yongzheng stood on the top deck of a boat, the wind whipping past his face as the vessel sailed across the open river. The boat docked before noon. As he was the last passenger to disembark, the moment his feet touched the pier, he was hit by a wave of memory: This was the exact location where he first saw Xue Horan, where they had fought the two bandits.
He decided to seek out a simple meal before heading to the old temple. As he walked the crowded street, the faces around him were a blur. He found the noodle stall he was looking for. Approaching the stall, he stopped, his gaze fixed on a familiar back, and listened to the low conversation.
The Stall Owner asked, "Five bowls of noodles as usual?"
Xue Horan's distinct voice replied, "Yes."
The Stall Owner, shaking his head, pressed him. "You haven't finished five bowls; why do you always order five bowls?"
"I'm waiting for someone," Horan said simply. "He eats a lot."
The Stall Owner placed the five bowls before Horan. "Enjoy your food."
Yongzheng slowly walked past Horan, his eyes fixed on the familiar long eyelashes and pinkish lips. He walked around and sat down directly across from him.
Xue Horan looked up, a genuine smile lighting his face. "Yongzheng, you finally decided to show up."
The Stall Owner approached, bewildered. "Is this the one you are waiting for?"
Xue Horan smiled, confirming it. "Yes."
The Stall Owner chuckled, relieved. "Fortunately you are here today. This young man has been sitting here at noon every day for the past few months and ordered five bowls of noodles, but he never finishes all of them."
Yongzheng picked up his chopsticks and began eating happily, a profound sense of destiny settling over him. "I will eat all of them," he vowed.
Xue Horan asked, his eyes full of anticipation, "Yongzheng, are you passing by or going to Butterfly Island with me?"
Yongzheng looked at the only person who mattered. "I will go wherever you want to go."
After finishing their noodles, the two paid the boat fare and set sail for Butterfly Island, their true home. By the time they arrived, night had fallen. They settled onto the bamboo porch swing outside their small bamboo house, drinking wine and letting the quiet darkness surround them.
Yongzheng held him close and asked, "How have you been?"
Xue Horan sighed contentedly. "Good, but very boring."
"How come?" Yongzheng asked.
Xue Horan confessed his long vigil. "Waiting is boring. There is nothing to do except watching people disembark and get on the boat."
"Have you been waiting all this time?" Yongzheng realized the depth of Horan's commitment.
"Yes."
"What would you do if I didn't come?"
Xue Horan looked at him, his answer absolute. "I would wait until you showed up."
Yongzheng pulled him into a tender embrace and kissed his forehead. Xue Horan looked up, stretching his neck to return the gesture, kissing Yongzheng deeply on the lips.
"Yongzheng, hold me for a while," Horan whispered, his voice thick with longing. "I really miss your warm hug."
Yongzheng held Xue Horan tightly in his arms all night, their silent embrace speaking volumes.
As the sun began to peek over the horizon the next morning, Yongzheng kissed his forehead.
Yongzheng whispered, "Horan, the sun is rising."
Xue Horan yawned, his eyes fluttering open. "Yongzheng, I want to watch the sunrise with you again and again. Every day, until I can no longer open my eyes."
"Okay, that's a promise," Yongzheng agreed, his heart overflowing. As the sun's light bathed them in golden warmth, he smiled, finally understanding their journey. "That one tenth of a hundredth part of love is not so bad after all," he murmured, embracing the beautiful simplicity of the sunrise and the man in his arms. "Horan, I love you." He kissed his forehead, sealing their future together.
In the early morning quiet of the bamboo forest, outside a small bamboo shed, a striking figure stood. Dressed completely in black, his exceptionally long white hair cascaded down to his waist. He held a jade flute to his lips, playing a sweet, sorrowful melody that spoke of deep longing—a tune so poignant it could bring one to tears. He was playing for an unknown lonely grave.
Wen Huifang, holding a black cloak, stood patiently behind him until the final note faded. She stepped forward, draped the cloak over the man's shoulders, and meticulously began to tie the two ropes together.
Wen Huifang offered a poignant memory. "Many years ago, I made a similar cloak like this for right-guard Zan to wear on the day when he was to ascend the leader's seat, but right-guard Zan never got to wear it." After securing the ropes, she reached out and pulled the hood over the man's head.
The man, revealed to be Ma Jingguo, smiled slightly at the senior master. "Thank you, Wen qianbei."
Yuan Chaomei then walked into the clearing, her voice crisp and formal. "Chief, we are ready."
Ma Jingguo smirked, the melancholy gone, replaced by chilling intent. "Let's go bring right-guard Zan home."