“Lu Qianqiao—!”
She called again.
Suddenly there was the sound of a horse’s long neigh overhead. Xin Mei quickly looked up and saw the long-missed Xiaofeng Li with its four hooves treading on thunder and lightning, high above. The white-clothed woman on horseback seemed… seemed to be her not-so-pleasant-tempered mother-in-law!
She whooshed into the bushes, faster than a rabbit.
Was she here to kill her? Scold her? Break them up? Or… or something else she didn’t know about?
The War Ghost Noble Consort on horseback didn’t look at her, didn’t dismount, and didn’t speak. She only dropped a palm-sized object that landed right at Xin Mei’s feet with a crisp sound.
It was an ancient bronze plaque covered in verdigris, carved with ancient and simple patterns.
Xin Mei carefully looked up at her, then down at the plaque, cautiously picking it up, not understanding what her mother-in-law meant.
“Gate key.”
Li Chaoyang said four words concisely, fully explaining the bronze plaque’s function.
What gate? Before Xin Mei could ask clearly, Xiaofeng Li neighed once and turned to run away, leaving her bewildered and crouched in the bushes, unsure whether to pursue or not.
“Xin Mei.”
From the opposite cliff, Lu Qianqiao’s voice finally rang out. Xin Mei rolled out in a rush, but saw that unlike before, he wasn’t here with loose hair in a pre-sleep state.
He wore a black cloak, his hair neatly bound, the long whip at his waist, and most importantly—he was actually riding Lie Yunhua!
“Lu Qianqiao… are you, are you leaving?”
She was stunned.
Lu Qianqiao looked at her deeply. Today she wore a light yellow silk dress that seemed rather thin. The cliff was swept by cold winds, her cheeks blown rosy red, her lips somewhat pale.
Silently removing his cloak, he tossed it over, and it landed perfectly on her shoulders.
“…Go back early. Don’t catch cold.”
The cloak was large and long, carrying his warmth and scent. Xin Mei instinctively wrapped it tighter around herself, still asking in confusion: “You’re leaving? Where to?”
“I’m returning to the clan.” He glanced at the bronze plaque in her hand, hesitating. “That’s the gate key… this way when you come to the clan, no one will stop or hurt you. But… you’d better not come.”
She no longer cared about gate keys or door keys.
“Why… why so suddenly going back?”
So there would be no more cliff-side meetings? She had specially made tofu Xin Mei today… and wore a newly made silk dress… she still hadn’t been able to touch his thin hands and face…
“There are some matters in the clan.”
He gazed at her quietly, such familiar eyes—that kind she couldn’t understand, that breathless stare.
Xin Mei thought: “Then when can you come back?”
Silence. He finally spoke: “Perhaps… it will be a long time.”
“How long is a long time? A month? Half a year? Or a year?”
“…I don’t know.”
“Then can you come back once a month? I’ll wait for you at the Imperial Tomb.”
He looked at her for a very long time, longer than all previous silences combined, so long that she thought he wouldn’t speak. Suddenly he said: “…Alright, I’ll try.”
Xin Mei gradually smiled, suddenly remembering something. She pulled out the crumpled letter Manager Zhao had given her from her sleeve and waved it at him: “You must come back! Everyone is waiting for you! This is the letter they asked me to bring you!”
His expression softened: “Keep it for me, next time… I’ll read it when I come home.”
“Good! Then you must, must come back!”
“Mm.”
Lie Yunhua reared up on its front hooves and leaped from the cliff’s edge, riding the wind upward.
Li Chaoyang was still waiting for him ahead. The longer he delayed, the harder it would be to part—farewells were always like this. Only by cutting quickly could one avoid indecision.
But he didn’t want Lie Yunhua to fly so fast. After flying a stretch, he looked back and saw her still carrying the food box, chasing through the snow, waving vigorously at him. The oversized cloak draped limply on her shoulders, seeming ready to fall at any moment. A string of blurred footprints stretched long across the accumulated snow.
“Lu Qianqiao—! You must come back—!”
She shouted with all her might.
She always called his full name like this—not intimate, yet unforgettable.
The white mist from his breath blurred his eyes, and an irrepressible impulse surged through his iron-like body.
I cannot go forward, I cannot possibly take another step forward. The voice in his heart was soft but resolute.
Lie Yunhua neighed violently, turned and ran back, landing barely at the forest’s edge.
Xin Mei suddenly stopped chasing, eyes wide, watching him jump down from the horse’s back, walking slowly, then gradually faster, finally breaking into a run.
Cold air mixed with his long-missed scent rushed toward her.
He opened his arms and held her tightly.
An embrace separated by thirty autumns.
“…Come with me!”
His voice hoarse, he swept her up in his arms and strode toward the cliff’s edge.