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Volume 1, Chapter 12

During the night, Pingting safely came out from her room.

In her hands was a small bag. Accompanied by Dongzhuo, Pingting glanced back and saw flickers of light hidden in the mountain.

Which one of those was her Master’s room light? She suddenly felt a wave of sadness flood through her.

“You don’t need to accompany me anymore,” Pingting told Dongzhuo, “You can go back now.”

“I…” Dongzhuo stopped himself and hesitantly handed the reins to Pingting, mumbling, “Take care of yourself.”

Pingting got onto the horse, which was a bit sudden, for she and the horse swayed slightly. As farewell, Dongzhuo softly said, “Sis…”

Pingting couldn’t help but look back.

Dongzhuo seemed to be unsure of what he wanted to say, but he raised his head and said, “To be honest, I told everything about tonight to Master.”

Pingting studied Dongzhuo, then glanced back at the peaceful rooms where the people of the Jing-An Ducal Residence were sleeping in. They were supposed to find out tomorrow and leave for a better hideout. She felt a pang of sadness, “What did Master say?”

“Master said, if you believe in yourself, you would stay. If you don’t, we won’t stop you nor would we able to.”

“Anything else?”

Dongzhuo lowered his head. “Nothing else.”

The corners of Pingting’s mouth lifted into a smile, feigning a sigh. “Dongzhuo, you’ve finally grown old enough to lie.”

“I…” Dongzhuo lowered his head even more, refusing to speak for some time. “Master also said that you should be able to go by yourself, but you asked me to help instead, which was…which was actually a final plan to force Master into a dilemma. He said that he wanted to fall into your trap and have you by his side, but now…”

“Now is the crucial moment when the fate of the House of Jing-An is decided. It’s not cruel to give up on a maid.” Pingting continued, raising her face towards the starry sky, laughing bitterly. “I’ll tell you this, Master isn’t wrong.”

Without waiting for Dongzhuo’s response, Pingting flicked down her whip.

The finest horse of her residence screamed as it galloped away. She held tightly onto the reins, tears blurring her vision.

Goodbye, dear House of Jing-An. Your brilliance, radiance, no longer has anything to do with Pingting.

Departing Soul lies on the windowsill. When the sun rises tomorrow, the burning light reflected upon its blade will be printed on my empty bed. A silhouette game we played as children.

Sadly, Pingting isn’t merciless enough.

If I were merciless enough, the blade would be slightly tilted towards the opposite building. The light would bounce off it, like off a polished mirror or a large bronze bell. The light would reflect into the distance, alerting your pursuers of your location.

Master, no, He Xia, what would you think then?

The sun began to slowly climb up the clouds of the east.

Every time she rode past, a cloud of dust followed. She continued to ride the yellow paths north.

The tear tracks on her face had long been covered with sand. Pingting glanced back, half squinting at the orange-red sun. The sun was rising soon and with it, a strong, warm feeling rippled through her body.

“Go!” She took a gulp of water before continuing her journey.

Towards the wind she rode, through the endless plains of yellow mud. Bei Mo lay beyond, a place where there was no He Xia and no Chu Beijie.