Baiyun County, the ancient road.
West Liang Inn.
It was an old inn beside a desolate road, with no village ahead and no shop behind. It catered to passing caravans and wandering Jianghu travelers.
Outside, the wind swept up yellow sand and hurled it against the door in gust after gust.
The old flag at the entrance bore the words "West Liang." It snapped in the wind, its frayed corners worn white like a tattered funeral shroud.
There were few people inside.
Several traveling merchants sat in a corner, eating noodles in low voices. A hunchbacked innkeeper worked his abacus behind the counter, while two attendants walked back and forth carrying wine jugs.
By the window, Song Lie sat drinking alone.
He was tall and broad-shouldered, dressed in gray.
A prized saber wrapped in gray cloth leaned against his table.
Even wrapped, its blade was visibly long and broad.
Now and then, the wind stirred a corner of the cloth, revealing a glimpse of a dark-gold ring.
Song Lie raised his wine bowl and slowly took a sip.
The liquor burned hot and sharp down his throat.
His eyes remained cold.
Just then, footsteps sounded at the inn's entrance.
Creak.
The wooden door swung open.
Wind and sand surged in as a young man in white entered the inn.
He looked about seventeen. His robes were white as snow, a jade belt circled his waist, and his handsome face had skin as smooth as warm jade. A faint, lazy smile played at his lips.
A man like him looked entirely out of place in this roadside inn.
Several merchants could not help glancing up.
The young man in white swept his gaze around the inn and soon spotted Song Lie sitting alone.
He walked over as though it were the