Night Talk Under the Moon

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

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

In the small iron pot suspended over the fire, dried meat was simmering with a few wild mushrooms and vegetables picked along the way, emitting a simple yet warm aroma.

Lan Tianye had taken it upon himself to cook this time. Though he still chattered on about the differences between Western Regions stews and Central Plains cooking methods, his movements were noticeably steadier than usual, clearly touched by the day's events.

The pot lay peacefully on the fire.

He sat by the campfire, hugging his knees, gazing at the dancing flames. His face, usually sunny and seemingly untouched by worry, was rarely shrouded in a faint layer of contemplation and confusion.

Occasionally, he would steal a glance at Chen Qing, who sat quietly opposite him, his eyes filled with complex emotions.

Wolf King Little Wind lay beside A Ning. Its ears were perked, its emerald eyes reflecting the firelight, alert to any movement in the surroundings.

A Ning's small body was nestled in its softest, warmest belly fur, covered by a thin blanket.

She unconsciously fiddled with the Wolf King's thick, warm mane with one hand, while the other clutched the bamboo flute Chen Qing had just bought. Her eyes were fixed on the flickering flames, unusually quiet.

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

Tonight, he was no longer playing the clumsy scales from before, nor simple combinations.

The melody was still not complex, yet it flowed together strangely. The notes drifted under the starry sky, like standing by the sea, watching the vast, rolling waves approach.

The flute's sound was not loud, but it was incredibly penetrating, lingering around the small campsite, smoothing out the day's agitation.

Listening to the flute, Lan Tianye felt the knot in his heart slowly unraveling. He suddenly sighed, his voice lacking its usual boisterousness, carrying a rare seriousness for his age.

"Brother Chen," he began, his gaze still fixed on the flames, "was I... quite embarrassing today? Not only did I fail to handle the trouble, but I almost fell into a trap, and in the end... I had to rely on your token to get out of it." His tone held a hint of frustration. "Did I think 'acting righteously' was too simple? That as long as my fists were hard and my heart was warm, it would be enough?"

Chen Qing's flute playing didn't stop, but the melody seemed to slow slightly, as if listening quietly.

Lan Tianye didn't seem to expect an answer, speaking more to himself as he sorted through his thoughts: "I come from the Western Regions, west of Rōran, a place where an oasis surrounds an ancient city. Our Lan family has been in the jade and wine trade for generations. There, the 'Golden Saber Lan Family' is quite well-known."

His tone carried a hint of distant nostalgia and an almost imperceptible pride he once held.

"My father... he always said I wasn't steady enough, that I had decent martial arts skills but lacked understanding of people and the world's dangers. He just wanted me to stay home honestly, learn how to deal with camels and bandits, and eventually take over his business." He paused, his voice tinged with grievance, unwillingness, and rebellion. "But I'm not willing! I don't want to spend my whole life in that place scorched by the sun and surrounded by sandstorms! Even if it has the sweetest grapes and the strongest wine in the world!"

His emotions surged, his eyes sparkling in the firelight. "I heard from the merchants on the Silk Road about the Central Plains! How exciting the martial arts world of the Central Plains is! Sword gods, blade emperors, mysterious sects, earth-shattering events... and so many pitiful people who need help! I just wanted to come out and see! I want to use the saber in my hand to cut down all injustice in the world! I want to become a renowned hero admired by all! Let everyone know that Lan Tianye from Rōran is a true man! Prove it to my father!"

He suddenly clenched his fist, filled with the fiery passion and purity of a young man's dreams.

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

He rubbed his nose, a little embarrassed, but then puffed out his chest, trying to dispel the guilt. "I've helped a lot of people on this journey! Really! I've driven off sand bandits, saved caravans from wolves... although... although sometimes I seem to mess things up a bit, doing more harm than good with good intentions..." He recalled the embarrassment of the day, and perhaps some "black history" from earlier.

"But I won't give up!" he seemed to encourage himself, his voice regaining its firmness. "Central Plains martial arts world, here I come, Lan Tianye! What's there to fear from setbacks? If you fall, you get back up! One day, the name 'Golden Saber Young Hero' Lan Tianye will echo throughout the land!"

When he got excited, he habitually started gesticulating. He swung his arm and almost knocked over the soup pot that was "gurgling" and boiling over the campfire!

Chen Qing's flute playing had stopped at some point.

He watched Lan Tianye's eyes, which had reignited with flames in the firelight, full of longing and an unyielding spirit. He didn't dampen his enthusiasm or offer empty encouragement, but calmly asked, his voice low and clear, "And after becoming famous throughout the world?"

"After?" Lan Tianye was taken aback by the question. He blinked, clearly having not thought that far ahead. He scratched his curly hair, his gaze drifting towards the starry sky, trying to conceive an answer. "After... after of course, I'll continue to act righteously! Become a great hero sung by all! Oh, right, and I'll have to spar with the truly top experts in the Central Plains! Brother Chen, you must be one of those hidden masters, right? When I train more and my saber skills improve, we absolutely must find an open space and have a good fight! And also, and also..."

His topic veered off again like a runaway horse, conjuring up a magnificent future in the martial arts world, as if the minor setback and confusion from earlier had been dispelled by this vast imagination.

He even began to demonstrate his self-created "peerless saber techniques," whose names became increasingly exaggerated.

Chen Qing stopped playing the flute. He rested it horizontally on his knees, quietly watching the dancing flames, listening to the young man's dreams of the future. The boisterous sounds seemed to dispel some of the wilderness's loneliness.

Suddenly, an extremely faint, yet exceptionally melodious and ethereal flute sound joined the night.

The sound was very soft, intermittent, even a little faltering, and it only repeated one or two measures of the melody Chen Qing had just played.

Everyone froze for a moment.

Chen Qing and Lan Tianye turned their heads simultaneously.

They saw A Ning, who had been leaning against Little Wind, had somehow sat up. She was earnestly and diligently trying to bring the bamboo flute Chen Qing had given her to her lips.

Her small hands could barely cover the finger holes, and she played with great effort, her little face slightly flushed. Yet, the flute's sound, strangely, did not have the jarring squeaks from before. Instead, it carried a pure, childlike, and artless ethereal beauty, gently echoing under the starry sky.

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

Little Wind also raised its head in surprise, turning its huge head and looking at its little owner beside it with its emerald eyes, emitting a very low, confused yet gentle "purr" from its throat.

Lan Tianye stared, his mouth agape, forgetting the grand pronouncements he had just made. After a long moment, he exclaimed in amazement, "Wow... Sister A Ning... you... you're too amazing?!" He looked at Chen Qing, his eyes seeming to say, "What kind of monstrous family are you guys?"

Chen Qing looked at A Ning's focused and diligent profile, at her eyes that lit up slightly with success after playing a few notes, and a smile appeared on his face.

He didn't disturb her. He simply picked up his flute again and gently, slowly, began to play that vast melody once more, as if providing a quiet and accommodating background for her attempt.

A Ning's flute playing stopped. She put down the flute somewhat helplessly. Listening to Chen Qing play, a hint of disappointment seemed to cross her small face, but more than that, there was a focused listening and learning.

The campfire continued to burn, illuminating Lan Tianye's increasingly resolute face, the path of the girl stepping into the world, and the fleeting glint in the unfathomable eyes of the man in the blue robe.

Little Wind lay down again, resting its chin on its front paws, its ears twitching contentedly.

Under the night sky, in the wilderness, with the starry river above and the campfire below.

The flute's melody soared, then mingled with the young man's new wave of future aspirations and the girl's occasional frustrated sniffles from failed attempts.