Returning to the Academy!

Tang San sighed inwardly—not out of helplessness, but relief.

He went inside, found a stool, and sat down, holding his hands out over the fire too.

Three people, six hands, took up a little space above the flames. Firelight shone on their faces, turning them all orange-red.

Old Jack brought out three bowls of hot soup, one for each of them. It was radish stewed with bones. The meat was so tender it was nearly falling off the bones, and the radishes had soaked up the broth. One bite filled your mouth with savory flavor. After a couple of mouthfuls, Huang Fei seemed to come alive and grew more talkative.

"How does your First Soul Ring feel, Xiao San?"

"Very good." Tang San answered earnestly. "My Soul Skill is Entangle. The vines are much tougher than before, and they can regenerate. I tested them with a branch. After I cut it off, it grew back in three seconds."

"Not bad." Huang Fei nodded, then gave Tang Er a meaningful look. "You're on the right path. Keep it up from now on. Don't let any nonsense theories lead you astray."

At that, Tang San looked thoughtfully at Huang Fei. It didn't sound like Huang Fei was praising him so much as reminding him of something.

"Aren't you on the same path?" Tang San asked. "Your First Soul Ring may not be very old, but it's a vine with life-force properties too, right?"

Huang Fei—the one with the 120-year-old Green Vine Soul Ring—paused.

"Yeah. More or less."

He didn't continue the subject, lowering his head to drink his soup.

Tang San didn't press him either. He drained the rest of his soup, set the bowl down, leaned back in his chair, and stared blankly at the fire.

He'd done a lot today. He'd traveled all day, returned to an empty home, read the letter his father had left behind, gained a younger sister on the back hill, and now sat by the fire at Old Jack's house, drinking radish soup with Huang Fei and Xiao Wu.

None of those things seemed like a big deal on its own, but piled together, they made for a heavy day.

"Better get some sleep." Huang Fei set down his bowl, yawned, and stood up first. "I've got to look around the village tomorrow and see if there's anything good to eat."

"Didn't you say you came back to repay the village?" Tang San reminded him.

"Eating my way through every pot in the village counts as repaying it. It stimulates consumption and boosts domestic demand. You get it?"

Tang San didn't understand what "boosting domestic demand" meant, but he was certain of one thing—tomorrow, Huang Fei would eat his way through everything the village had to offer.

Night deepened.

Old Jack tidied up the biggest room for the three children. There was a large bed and a makeshift wooden bed, both laid with thick mattresses and covered with two quilts. Xiao Wu slept alone in the big bed, while Tang San and Huang Fei shared the wooden one. Xiao Wu had insisted, on the grounds that "I'm a girl, so I'm the boss." Tang San had no objections, and Huang Fei had even fewer. He could sleep anywhere.

After the lamp went out, the room sank into darkness. Only moonlight slipped through the cracks in the paper window, drawing a thin white line on the floor.

Xiao Wu turned over in bed, pulled the quilt over her head, and soon fell sound asleep. She might really have been tired.

Tang San lay with his eyes open, staring at the indistinct ceiling.

"Huang Fei."

"Mm." A muffled voice came from beside him. It wasn't the dismissive response of someone already asleep, but the sort of reply that meant, "I'm listening, but I don't want to move."

"Why do you think my father left?" Tang San asked.

The question had been stuck inside him all day. Ever since he'd seen the letter, he'd kept asking himself, but he had no answer. He'd considered many possibilities—his father had enemies he needed to evade, he was looking for clues about his mother, he didn't want to burden Tang San. Each one seemed right, yet somehow none of them did.

Huang Fei was silent for a long time.

By the time Tang San thought he'd fallen asleep, Huang Fei spoke again.

"He left because he'd already done what he needed to do. The rest is your own path."

Tang San said nothing.

Huang Fei added, "And it's not that he won't come back. He's waiting for the day you make your way to him."

Tang San turned toward Huang Fei. In the moonlight, he couldn't make out his face, only a vague outline lying on its side with the quilt pulled up to his chin.

"How do you know?" Tang San asked.

Huang Fei didn't answer.

A while later, Tang San heard his steady breathing.

He looked away and stared at the ceiling, silently repeating Huang Fei's two sentences to himself twice.

Then he closed his eyes.

The moon emerged from behind the clouds. Its light grew brighter, widening the thin white line on the floor into a patch as broad as a palm.

Under the same roof, the three children dreamed their own dreams.

The journey back to Nuoding City was slower than the trip there.

On the way out, the carriage had hurried along. Old Jack had wanted to get the children to school as soon as possible, and they'd barely stopped to rest. On the way back, there were only three of them—Tang San, Huang Fei, and Xiao Wu. There was no carriage, so they had to travel on foot. Tang San had wanted Old Jack to help hire a carriage, but Huang Fei stopped him, saying, "Walking saves money."

Tang San thought he had a point. Xiao Wu thought walking was fun. Huang Fei figured he didn't have to do any walking himself—he could just follow along while the other two walked.

And so they set out.

The trip from Holy Soul Village to Nuoding City took about a day and a half along the main road. The first day went smoothly enough. The three chatted as they went, gnawed on dry rations when they were hungry, and drank from streams when they were thirsty. Before dark, they found an inexpensive inn in a small town and spent the night there. They set off again early the next morning, and at this pace, they would reach Nuoding City around noon.

Huang Fei walked at the back, his pace leisurely and his hands tucked into his sleeves. His whole bearing gave off the feeling that he could lie down at any moment. Tang San walked in front, glancing back now and then to make sure Huang Fei was still within sight. Xiao Wu walked in the middle, her ponytail swaying as she hummed an unknown tune, looking to be in a good mood.

Fields stretched out on both sides of the main road. The wheat had been harvested not long ago, leaving the land bare except for short stubble and a few lonely trees. A low range of hills lay in the distance, covered with scrub and weeds. The whole stretch was gray and drab, as if it hadn't yet woken from winter.

After about an hour, the road ahead curved into a small copse.

Calling it a copse was generous. Poplars had simply been planted in rows on either side of the road. Their crowns intertwined overhead, breaking the sunlight into patches that dappled the packed-earth road. When the wind blew, the patches swayed like scattered pieces of gold.

Tang San suddenly slowed his pace.

It wasn't because he'd seen anything. It was instinct.

He'd spent so many years in the Tang Sect—what danger hadn't he encountered?

Sometimes his eyes didn't need to see it. His body knew on its own: something was wrong with this road.