After the Waking of Insects, the weather had begun to soften, the chill retreating beneath the touch of spring.
In the southern lands of Xiliang, the river's waters warmed and the meadows grew lush. Scholars and gentlefolk delighted in cultivating flowers and herbs, and in every mountain courtyard one could glimpse clusters of orchids and jasmine, their hues mingling in quiet grace, while great scarlet poppies bloomed in radiant splendor—a tapestry of living color.
By noon, the sun stood high, its brilliance spilling through the mountain trees as a carriage sped swiftly along the winding path. Within, a woman in a blue riding jacket lifted the curtain and called out to the driver,
"Brother Wang, how much farther until we reach Changwu County?"
The driver chuckled. "Not far now, miss—just half a ridge more. We'll be there within the hour!"
Olivia Yin let the curtain fall and turned toward the young girl beside her.
The girl appeared to be sixteen or seventeen, with features fine and delicate, her skin as pale as porcelain, setting off the dark clarity of her eyes. Though dressed only in a modest indigo gown embroidered with seaweed patterns, her bearing was serene and distant, touched with a quiet grace. Hearing the driver's words, her lashes trembled ever so slightly, and for an instant, a flicker of feeling crossed her gaze.
Olivia sighed softly to herself.
She had accompanied Alice Lu for over half a year, and never once had she seen her young mistress betray any excess of emotion. Her face was always calm, detached—as though nothing in this world could ruffle her composure. Yet the nearer they drew to Changwu County, the more Olivia sensed a faint warmth returning to those cold eyes, like clay slowly coming to life under the breath of incense and smoke.
Indeed, even the most tranquil soul cannot help but stir when returning home.
Inside the carriage, Alice Lu sat in silence.
The mountain road was uneven, and each jolt sent the apricots in Olivia's basket rolling to and fro. As she watched them tumble across the floor, her thoughts drifted afar.
Seven years ago, she too had left Changwu County by carriage. The journey had seemed short then—one blink, and she was already in a strange new town. But now the road home felt endless, every mile drawn out by the weight of memory.
She had spent seven years in the mountains with Lily Yun, and only after Lily's death—after she had buried her teacher—did she regain her freedom and the chance to return.
In those seven years, she had written letters home, though she never knew if they had reached her family. She had departed in such haste back then—perhaps they had long assumed her dead.
Lost in thought, Alice did not notice the sun sinking westward until the carriage drew to a halt before the city gates. The driver's voice called from outside, "Miss, we've arrived—Changwu County!"
Changwu County—at last.
Olivia Yin helped Alice Lu alight from the carriage, paid the driver, and the two women began walking toward the bustling streets within the walls.
Alice lifted her gaze, a faint sense of unreality clouding her heart.
It was springtime, and the streets were alive with travelers and carriages. Tea stalls lined both sides of the road, selling warm brews and small sweets—candied oranges and sesame cakes. Fortune-tellers and scribes plied their trades beneath paper umbrellas. Along the lakeside, new pavilions had been built, and the tender green of willow branches brushed against the mirrored surface of the water, tinting it in shifting shades of emerald.
Everywhere she looked, the town teemed with life.
Olivia's eyes shone with delight. "Miss, how lively Changwu County has become!"
But Alice felt strangely adrift.
When she had left home, plague and deep winter had cast the streets in silence—desolate, almost lifeless. Now, upon her return, the once-humble county had transformed into a place of prosperity, and amid the laughter and bustle, she felt a quiet unease stirring in her chest.
After a pause, she murmured, "Let's go."
The streets of Changwu had grown broader. Where once there had been muddy paths that turned to swamps each summer, now lay smooth cobblestones, steady even beneath a carriage's wheels.
The old fabric shops and grain stores were gone, replaced by unfamiliar taverns and teahouses—so changed that she could scarcely recognize the place she had once called home.
Step by step, Alice followed the map of memory, finding here and there a trace of the past: the well before the eastern temple, the bronze ox that stood sentinel before the ancestral altar.
They passed through a narrow lane and walked a few hundred paces farther—then Alice suddenly stopped.
Olivia followed her gaze and gasped softly. "Miss…"
Before them stood the charred remains of a house.
The outer wall was blackened by fire, the beams within half-collapsed, leaving only fragments of scorched lacquered wood that hinted faintly at the shape of a doorway. A faint acrid scent of burnt smoke still lingered in the air.
Olivia's heart tightened. If Alice had stopped here, then this must have been her home. But now—only ashes remained.
Alice stared at the blackened doorway, her face draining of color. Her legs felt heavy as stone, her breath caught somewhere between disbelief and despair.
Just then, a voice called from behind them. "Who are you two? What are you doing here?"
They turned to see an elderly woman standing a short distance away, a yoke over her shoulders bearing baskets of fuling cakes. Suspicion flickered in her eyes.
Olivia, quick-witted, stepped forward with a bright smile. She handed over a few coins, buying a cake as she spoke easily, "Auntie, my mistress is a distant relative of the Lu family who once lived here. We happened to pass by and thought to pay our respects. Did… did something happen to this place? Was there a fire? Do you know where the family went?"
At the mention of "the Lu family," the old woman's expression softened. Accepting the coins, she sighed and shook her head. "You've come seeking the Lus? Then, child, take your lady home again. There's no one left here."
"No one?" Olivia glanced back at Alice, still smiling faintly though her voice wavered. "What do you mean, Auntie?"
The old woman heaved a long sigh. "Don't you know? The whole Lu family—every last one of them—perished a year ago."