Having avenged his enemy should have been a gratifying moment.
Yet Xie Xun felt a hollow emptiness in his heart. His eyes burned and stung as he looked up at the somber sky. "Big Brother, I've avenged you. Rest peacefully now!"
Men like him deserved to die in the wilderness, their corpses scavenged by beasts, with no one to claim their remains or offer them ritual offerings—destined to be nothing more than wild, wandering ghosts.
"Zhixu!" Fengyu called out to him from behind. Xie Xun turned around, and Fengyu had already rushed forward, collapsing into his arms. Her scorching tears soaked his collar. Xie Xun let go of the sword and held her tightly, pressing her firmly against his chest.
After arranging the military affairs of the Ningzhou Iron Cavalry, he traveled alone to Yangzhou. The river was a chaos of boats, large and small, fleeing the city, crowding its surface.
