Three Weeks Later: The Village of Redleaf Hollow
Lin Fan hadn't spoken to anyone since the duel.
He left without a word. No goodbye. No dramatic monologue. Just a note on his bed:"Gone to recalibrate my soul. And maybe cry in a forest."
Now, he stood at the crest of Redleaf Ridge, overlooking the village where he was born.
Redleaf Hollow. Quiet. Peaceful. Undisturbed by sect politics or imperial madness. The trees here always looked like autumn, the wind always smelled like roasted yams, and everyone still called him "Little Fan."
His boots crunched on the familiar dirt road as he descended into the village proper.
And for the first time in weeks, he felt like a person again.
"Ah, Little Fan!""Look at you! Still skinny!""Have you gotten married yet? No? Disgraceful!"
He smiled politely through every interaction, dodged six aunties and a curious goose, and made it home before sundown.
