Qin Shu ignored Chao Yan, who was standing outside the door. She turned around and sat down by the bed. She had eaten a lot of sheep meat and frunk too much wine that night, so she felt parched.

She spied a water bottle on the dresser and pried its cap off, gulping down its contents to sate her thirst.

Chao Yan remained outside. He had not left. Just because he was blind and could not see did not mean he was bereft of his other senses. He could hear movement in Qin Shu’s room, indicating that she was still awake.

A while after his first attempt at an apology, he tried again, “Baby, I’m sorry.”

Qin Shu sat on her bed, refusing to acknowledge Chao Yan’s presence. Time passed, and silence reigned. Hearing no movement from outside, she assumed that Chao Yan had left.

She heaved a sigh of relief and lay down on the bed. The yurt was quiet. Soon, sleep claimed her, easing her agitation under a soft quilt and a fluffy bed.

Her eyes closed, and she drifted off to sleep.

The night deepened, growing darker as the hours passed, and the only sounds filtering through were the faint, rhythmic breaths of those steeped in the realm of dreams.

Contrary to Qin Shu’s belief, Chao Yan had remained outside her door well past the time she fell asleep. It was only much later that he hobbled away.

Yin Shi had kept vigil a short distance away. He immediately tendered his assistance when Chao Yan stepped away on unsteady feet.

“Master, please allow me to assist you.”

Chao Yan shook his head. “I’m fine. I want to sit outside for a while.”

“But…” Yin Shi wanted to argue that he was in no condition to step outside but hesitated. He knew his master’s personality well. Once he decided on a course of action, he would see it through to the end, and no amount of pleading or cajoling would dissuade him. As his aide, all he could do was help his master where he could.

The night sky was peppered with stars, lonely lights flickering against the dark of night.

After Yin Shi helped his master out, he asked someone to bring a recliner over and put it outside so he could lie down and rest well.

Chao Yan lay motionless on the recliner as if asleep. There was no movement at all.

Yin Shi knew better. His master was deep in thought.

He would get this way whenever something was on his mind. There was no doubt in Yin Shi’s mind that his master’s latest retreat into himself was because of Qin Shu.

Yin Shu stayed dutifully by his master’s side. His master was in poor health, and Qin Shu had brutally slapped him. It was a wonder how he was moving despite the pain.

–

Early morning of the next day…

Chao Yan suddenly said, “Go and book a ticket for her. The earliest flight.”

He had not spoken for a long time, his voice hoarse from disuse.

“Master, I’ll book a ticket now.” Yin Shi took out his phone to book a ticket. He checked the available flights and said, “Master, the earliest flight is at one o’clock in the afternoon. The nine o’clock flight is fully booked.”

Chao Yan: “Then book a ticket for one o’clock tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Yin Shi did as he was instructed.

After booking the ticket, Yin Shi looked up at Chao Yan and asked, “Master, would you like to rest now?”

“I want to stay outside for a while more,” Chao Yan answered weakly.

His warm voice was soft, and though he looked like he wanted nothing more than to sleep, he forced himself to stay awake. It was heartbreaking to see.

Yin Shi knew better than to try his luck. His master was stubborn and would do as he pleased. All he could do was clean up after his master, so he retreated to one side and waited for further instructions.

He thought it would be a long night, but the sky brightened in the blink of an eye.

Chao Yan slowly sat up and tried to stand using the chair’s armrest as support. However, he failed.

Yin Shi quickly stepped in to offer an arm to his master.

“Bring the prepared breakfast in,” Chao Yan said as he panted from the exertion.

“Yes, Master,” Yin Shi answered, helping his master into the yurt.

Qin Shu woke up very early. She laid on the bed for a while before getting up to wash up.

She looked at herself in the mirror. It was the last day, and she would be able to leave early tomorrow morning.

With this thought in mind, she brushed her teeth and braced herself for the day ahead.

She stepped out of the bathroom feeling refreshed. Before she could exit her room and head to the communal dining area, Yin Shi entered with her breakfast on a tray.

“Miss Qin, breakfast is ready.”

Doubt flashed across Qin Shu’s eyes as she watched Yin Shi walk towards the table with her breakfast. She ate with Chao Yan in the shared dining area for the past two days. Why was she eating breakfast in her room today?

Yin Shi placed her breakfast on the table before addressing her, “Miss Qin, you might like to pack your things after breakfast. Your flight is at 1 pm.”

“My flight?” Qin Shu’s eyes widened as she asked, “Are you saying I’m free to leave today?”

“Yes, Miss Qin. Your flight out of Mongolia departs at 1 pm,” Yin Shi replied.

Qin Shu’s mood improved drastically. Her eyes lit up with joy at the prospect of finally being free.

Yin Shi was glad that Qin Shu was happy. The sooner she left, the sooner he could encourage his master to rest.

Still, his heart ached for his master. This ungrateful woman would never understand how much his master had done for her, and the sooner she was out of his life, the better.

“It seems you’re quite pleased, Miss Qin. I pray you don’t come to regret this happiness of yours.”

Yin Shi excused himself after leaving Qin Shu with his cryptic words.

Qin Shu was stunned. Looking at Yin Shi’s back as he left, she called out, “What do you mean?”

“I meant it quite literally. If Master truly wanted to take advantage of you, he need not have done so in such an overt manner; he has the means to carry it out in whatever fashion he chooses.” Yin Shi met Qin Shu’s eyes with his steely gaze, “I hope Miss Qin will leave and never burden my master again. It is my wish that he lead a long and happy life.”

Yin Shi disappeared out the door, or what counted for one in a yurt, with a curt dismissal.

Qin Shu was stunned once again. How was she related to whether Chao Yan lived a long and happy life?

Her bafflement turned into dissatisfaction. She did not appreciate being dismissed in such a fashion. Turning to her breakfast, she noted that they were all her favourites.

The promise of good food wiped away her discontent towards Yin Shi. Soon, she would be free to leave!

After Yin Shi left Qin Shu to her devices, he carried another breakfast tray to the adjacent room.

Chao Yan had just washed up.

“Master, I’ve brought breakfast. You should rest; you stayed up the whole night.” Yin Shi placed his master’s breakfast on the table, laying out the cutlery and pouring his drink.

Chao Yan sat at the table and picked up his chopsticks. However, he was not in a hurry to eat. Instead, he asked, “Is she happy?”

Yin Shi answered honestly, “Yes, Master.”

Chao Yan nodded and did not probe further, eating his breakfast as if nothing were wrong.

Qin Shu waited for Chao Yan to make another request, but when he did not, she exited the yurt and strolled up to the horses grazing nearby.

Yesterday, she had ridden on a domesticated horse. Today, she wanted to ride on a wild one.

There were very few wild horses in the vicinity, only two to be exact, but they were not what she was looking for.

She travelled along a sloping region for about an hour before coming across three wild horses. Two of them fled upon sighting her, while the third continued nibbling on grass.

Qin Shu crept closer, curious. She moved slowly, afraid that she would startle it.

She heaved a sigh of relief when she reached the horse’s side. The horse did not seem bothered by her presence, continuing as it did on its munching of grass.

Qin Shu regarded the horse with child-like fascination. Its coat was snow-white with a flowing mane of the same shade.

A tuft of red hair curled on its forehead, contrasting with its snowy colouring. It was exceptionally cute.

It was an old horse, one that probably could not run anymore.

She patted the horse’s neck and spoke softly, “It’s okay if you can’t run. I’ve been walking for quite a while. Just take me back.”

The horse, eating grass with its head lowered, seemed unhappy. It suddenly kicked its front hooves restlessly as if it wanted to prove itself.

Seeing this, Qin Shu broke into a grin. “May I get on?”

The horse did not express disapproval, so she nimbly hauled herself onto its back.

Since it was a wild horse, it did not come with a saddle or reins. One could easily fall off if it chose to go at a gallop.

The horse must have feigned weakness, for it ran wild once she seated, not giving Qin Shu any room to get comfortable.

Anyone else would have been flung off a long time ago by the wildly cantering horse.

Fortunately, Qin Shu practised martial arts, so she was far from the norm in terms of strength and flexibility.

RIding on the wild horse allowed her to experience a form of freedom she had never felt before. It was uniquely refreshing, and it was not long before she was laughing to her heart’s content.

Although the old horse was old, it was not inferior to other young horses.

The horse took Qin Shu on a tour of the plains before bringing her back to the yurt.

Qin Shu jumped off the horse, patting its head in thanks. Eyeing the tuft of red hair on its head, she could not help but wonder where she had seen something similar in the past.

“You look like Moonwalker. Moonwalker also had red hair.”

The horse neighed happily, raising its front hooves in excitement upon being addressed as such.

Qin Shu’s eyes lit up. She studied the horse closely, not daring to believe it possible. Was it really Moonwalker in the flesh?

So many years had passed… How could it still run so fast?

It summed up the saying that a ‘treasured blade never grows old’.

Qin Shu was a little emotional. “It’s been so many years. I didn’t expect to see you again. I’m sorry to say that I’m leaving soon. I hope we’ll meet again in the future.”

It was almost time. Qin Shu entered the yurt. She had nothing to pack since she carried anything of import on her person.

At this time, Yin Shi walked over and said to Qin Shu, “Miss Qin, the jet is ready; it will send you to the airport.”

The jet was parked close by. So it was finally time. Qin Shu turned to look at the yurt but did not see Chao Yan, so she muttered her farewell, “I’m leaving.”

She turned to the jet and was about to board when she heard a warm voice from behind, “Baby.”

Qin Shu stopped and turned back. Chao Yan stood by the door, a hand against the frame for support.

Yin Shi rushed to support Chao Yan.

“Is there anything else?” Her voice was calm and cold.

Chao Yan hobbled to Qin Shu with Yin Shi’s help. “Baby, before you leave, may I hug you? A hug between friends.”

His gentle voice may have sounded calm to the untrained ear, but one who knew him well would know how much it hurt to part with her. Unfortunately, only he was privy to his tells.

Qin Shu regarded Chao Yan coldly. The memory of last night’s kiss was still fresh in her mind, and the sting of being taken advantage of had yet to dull. “I don’t think so. If fate permits and we meet again in the future and reignite our friendship, I’ll take the initiative to hug you.”

Qin Shu spoke firmly but without malice.

Chao Yan sagged where he stood. The word ‘lonely’ was not enough to describe the abandonment, the complete and utter feeling of desolation weighing him down. Qin Shu was so stingy she would not even give him a parting hug.

He did not mention it again. One rejection was enough. “Baby, I promised you I would not appear in front of you in the future, and I would not disturb you. A gentleman’s word is a promise,” he offered quietly.

It was the last thing he would do for her.

Qin Shu was stunned for a moment, then she smiled and said, “Then, I wish you a bright future.”

She turned away, making a beeline for the jet, having said all she needed.

A bright future?

Chao Yan listened to the footsteps fading into the distance. Never again would he hear those familiar footfalls or find comfort in her presence.

He reached up to the gauze wrapped around his eyes, tugging the white fabric off. A pair of purple eyes fluttered open, long eyelashes rejoicing their sudden freedom. Those distinctly unique eyes were muted, no light shining within them…

The gauze fluttered in the wind.

Yin Shi showed no panic when he saw his master undoing the gauze. His master was blind.

Nonetheless, he peered up to look at his master, the sight of which gave him pause.

He stared at the pair of purple eyes in disbelief. Was Master crying?

Chao Yan suddenly smiled. It was a bitter smile that looked like it had relinquished the last tethers to this earthly plane.

This was what Qin Shu wanted. He had done his best to ensure her happiness, only for her to hate him.

The smile transformed into a cold and bloodthirsty grin, like an asura that had clawed its way from the depths of hell.

Qin Shu would never be able to repay what she owed him in this lifetime.

She gave up on him.

But he never gave up on her.

Yin Shi noticed that something was wrong with Chao Yan. “Master, let me assist you to the yurt…”

“Don’t worry about me. I want to be alone.”

Chao Yan’s icy tone cut like a knife despite its projected calm. He turned away and strode towards the great open plains. His gait was laboured and slow.

Yin Shi remained rooted to the spot, not daring to overstep his bounds. He knew his master was in an awful mood and needed some time to himself.

Since it was almost noon, Yin Shi returned to the yurt and instructed the chefs to prepare lunch.

Chao Yan wandered the rolling fields of grass, lost in his mind. Suddenly, he bumped into something, which nearly caused him to lose his balance and fall. Was it a horse?

It was the first thing that came to mind as he felt a hot chuff against his cheeks.

The creature repeatedly snorted, expressing dissatisfaction at being bumped into by a person.

Chao Yan reached out and caressed the horse. He could not feel a saddle or reins, so it was probably wild.

Wild horses rarely ventured close to highly populated areas. It was part of their instincts and a matter of self-preservation.

He could hear the hooves clip against the earth as the animal trotted in place. It was a familiar sound. Perhaps, this horse was the one Qin Shu had ridden.

“You are a wild horse. You should be familiar with this place. Bring me away from here, take me to a place far from here, somewhere no one will ever find me. If you are willing, please nod. If not, I shall go alone.”

He spoke slowly, not caring if the poor horse understood him. It would be nice to have a companion on his journey, but it mattered little if he did not have one.

The horse weighed its options or as much as a horse could. Eventually, it agreed with a snort and a slight incline of its head.

Chao Yan patted the horse’s head and prepared to ride on its back. Just then, a gust of wind whipped across the plains, carrying his fine, silken gauze to him.

He was used to having something tied around his eyes. He felt oddly naked without it.

Perhaps it was a sign. He unfurled the tangled gauze and rewrapped it around his eyes. Afterwards, he clambered onto the horse’s back, using his meagre strength to leverage his weight.

He gently patted the horse’s neck. “Let’s go.”

Only then did the horse begin its trot towards the depths of the grassland.

The sun was high in the sky, and though he could not tell its position, he estimated that it was past noon from how hot he felt atop the horse’s back.

A cold, callous smile graced his lips as he travelled under the scorching sun.

The horse moved at an even pace, so Chao Yan was in no danger of falling off.

Chao Yan tried urging it to move faster, giving it a peck on its head. “Walk a little faster.”

The horse ignored Chao Yan. It continued, paying the silly human no mind.

Chao Yan sighed, giving up. The horse would do as it chose, and no amount of urging convinced it otherwise.

…

Lunch was ready when Yin Shi finished his other duties. He thought his master would have had enough time to cool off by now, so he searched for him.

No matter where he looked, he found no trace of his master.

Chao Yan was gone.