Moonlit Conversation

The night was as dark as ink, stars glittering overhead while the Milky Way stretched across the sky, more brilliant and magnificent than the lights of any city.

In a sheltered hollow beside the road, a campfire danced and crackled.

In the little iron pot over the flames, dried meat simmered with a few wild mushrooms and greens gathered along the way, giving off a simple yet comforting aroma.

This time, Lan Tianye had volunteered to cook. Though he still chattered on about the differences between Western Regions stew and Central Plains cooking, his movements were steadier than usual. The day's events had clearly left him with something to think about.

The pot rested quietly over the fire.

He sat beside the flames with his knees drawn up, watching them leap. His usually sunny face, as if he had never known sorrow, was now clouded with a rare touch of thoughtfulness and uncertainty.

Every so often, he would sneak a glance at Chen Qing, sitting quietly opposite him, his gaze complicated.

The Wolf King, Little Wind, lay beside A Ning. Its ears stood erect, and the firelight gleamed in its dark green eyes as it kept watch over their surroundings.

A Ning's small body nestled against the soft, warm fur of its belly, a thin blanket draped over her.

One hand absently twined in the Wolf King's thick, warm mane. In the other, she still held the bamboo flute Chen Qing had just bought for her. She watched the dancing flames, unusually quiet.

Chen Qing took out another bamboo flute and brought it to his lips.

Tonight, he played neither the halting scales he'd tried at first nor a simple series of notes.

The melody was still not especially complex, yet somehow it flowed together now. Notes drifted beneath the stars like waves rolling toward you as you stood on the shore, gazing out at the blue sea.

The flute was not loud, but its sound carried beautifully, circling their little camp and soothing the day's agitation.

As Lan Tianye listened, the knot in his heart seemed to loosen, little by little, as if the music were truly blowing it away. He suddenly sighed. His voice lacked its usual buoyancy, taking on a seriousness rare for someone his age.

"Brother Chen," he began, still gazing into the flames. "Was I pretty embarrassing today? I couldn't handle the trouble, nearly got tricked, and in the end... I had to rely on your token to get me out of it." His voice held a trace of frustration. "Have I made 'upholding justice' sound too simple? Did I think all it took was strong fists and a warm heart?"

Chen Qing continued playing, though the melody seemed to slow just a little, as if quietly listening.

Lan Tianye did not seem to expect an answer. He sounded more as though he were talking to himself, trying to sort out his thoughts. "I'm from the Western Regions, farther west than Loulan, from a place where an ancient city is surrounded by an oasis. My family, the Lan Family, has dealt in jade and wine along the trade routes for generations. Back there, the name 'Golden Saber Lan Family' carries a little weight."

A distant longing crept into his voice, along with a hint of the pride he had once worn openly.

"My father... He always says I'm not steady enough. I've got a decent set of martial skills, but I don't understand how to deal with people, much less the dangers of the world. All he wants is for me to stay home, learn to handle camels and bandits, and take over his business one day." He paused, his voice tinged with hurt, defiance, and rebellion. "But I can't stand it! I don't want to spend my whole life in that place, scorched by the sun and surrounded by sandstorms! Not even if it has the sweetest grapes and the strongest wine in the world!"

His emotions flared, his eyes shining in the firelight. "The merchants traveling the Silk Road told me about the Central Plains! About how incredible the martial world there is! The Sword God, the Saber Emperor, mysterious sects, great events that shake the jianghu... and all those poor people who need help! I wanted to come out and see it for myself! I wanted to use my saber to cut down every injustice under heaven! I'll become a hero whose name shakes the world and whom everyone admires! I'll show them all that Lan Tianye, from Loulan, is a real man! I'll prove it to my father!"

He swung his fist, burning with the fervor and purity unique to a young man with a dream.

"So... I left my father a letter and... and secretly ran away."

He rubbed his nose, a little embarrassed, but then puffed out his chest, trying to shake off his guilt. "I've helped plenty of people along the way! Really! I drove off sand bandits and rescued a caravan from a wolf pack... Though... though sometimes I seem to mess things up a little and make things worse while trying to help..." He thought of the awkwardness of that day, and perhaps some earlier "dark history" as well.

"But I won't give up!" he declared, as if cheering himself on, his voice firm again. "The martial world of the Central Plains, here comes Lan Tianye! So what if I hit a few setbacks? If I fall, I'll get back up! One day, the name 'Golden Saber Young Hero' Lan Tianye will ring out from one end of the land to the other!"

As he grew more excited, he instinctively began gesturing wildly. His arm swung out, nearly sweeping into the soup pot bubbling over the fire!

At some point, Chen Qing had stopped playing.

He looked at Lan Tianye's eyes, alight once more in the firelight with longing and defiance. He neither dampened the boy's enthusiasm nor offered empty encouragement. He simply asked, his voice low and clear, "And after your name shakes the world?"

"After?" Lan Tianye blinked, caught off guard by the question. He clearly had not thought that far ahead. Scratching his curls, he let his gaze drift toward the stars and tried to come up with something. "After that... I'll keep upholding justice, of course! I'll become a great hero whose deeds everyone tells! Oh, right, I'll also seek out the true top masters of the Central Plains and challenge them! Brother Chen, you're one of those hidden masters, aren't you? Once I've trained more and improved my saber skills, we have to find an open place and have a proper fight! And another thing..."

His thoughts ran wild again, like a horse breaking free of its reins, racing through visions of a grand future in the jianghu. The setbacks and uncertainty of a moment ago seemed to have been swept away by his boundless imaginings.

He even began demonstrating his own original "peerless saber techniques," whose names grew more outrageous by the moment.

Chen Qing did not play again. He rested the flute across his knees and quietly watched the flames dance, listening to the boy dream aloud about the future. The lively chatter seemed to chase away some of the wilderness's loneliness.

Suddenly, an exceedingly faint yet lilting, ethereal flute note joined the night.

The sound was soft and halting, even a little clumsy. The only thing being played was a repeated phrase or two from Chen Qing's melody.

Everyone paused in surprise.

Chen Qing and Lan Tianye turned to look at the same time.

A Ning, leaning against Little Wind, had somehow sat upright. She was earnestly trying to bring the bamboo flute Chen Qing had given her to her lips.

Her small hands could barely cover the holes, and playing took all her effort. Her little face had flushed slightly, but, strangely, the flute made none of the shrill, broken sounds it had before. Instead, its notes held the pure, artless beauty unique to a child, echoing softly beneath the stars.

She was imitating Chen Qing—and doing a surprisingly good job!

Little Wind, too, raised its head in astonishment and turned its great muzzle toward the little girl beside it. Its dark green eyes stared at its young mistress, and a low, puzzled yet gentle rumble rose in its throat.

Lan Tianye stared, eyes wide and mouth agape. He forgot all the grand boasts he had just been making. After a long moment, he managed an astonished, "Wow... Little Sister A Ning... you... you're amazing!" He looked at Chen Qing as if to ask, "What kind of monstrous family are you people?"

Chen Qing watched A Ning's focused, earnest profile, and the light that appeared in her eyes when she managed to play a few notes. A smile touched his face.

He did not interrupt her. He simply picked up his flute again and played that vast, desolate melody once more, gently and slowly, offering her a quiet, welcoming backdrop for her attempts.

A Ning stopped playing and lowered her flute, looking a little unsure of herself. As she listened to Chen Qing's music, a hint of disappointment crossed her little face, but her expression was mostly one of intense attention as she listened and learned.

The campfire continued to burn, lighting Lan Tianye's face as it gradually grew resolute, the path of the girl as she slowly ventured into the world, and the fleeting glimmer in the unfathomable eyes of the blue-robed man.

Little Wind lay down again, resting its chin on its forepaws as its ears twitched contentedly.

Beneath the night sky, in the wilderness, the stars shone above and the campfire burned below.

The flute melody drifted on, then mingled with a fresh wave of the young man's visions of the future and the girl's occasional, frustrated little sniffs when her attempts went awry.