Even if you escorted someone a thousand miles, you still had to part in the end. Tan Yuanshang and Zhang Liangxi finally said their farewells. The former remained where he stood, while the latter drove the carriage onward along its original course.
On the carriage, Zhang Liangxi was no longer drowsy. Instead, scenes from yesterday's dream kept flashing through his mind.
The farther he traveled, the clearer the dream became. It even felt as though he had not merely slept through a single night, but spent a long stretch of time within that dream.
Yet something seemed... seemed wrong.
The horses' hooves clopped without pause. The more Zhang Liangxi thought, the more his head hurt.
"Hss..."
Images kept flashing through his mind: the Former Emperor, Yi Shuyuan, a little marten, a young man in splendid robes. There also seemed to be someone very familiar, yet he could not recall that person's name or bring their face into focus...
I seem to have forgotten so much. But dreams are easy to forget anyway, aren't they?
A little house and courtyard, a small bridge over flowing water, children playing-even scenes of Mr. Yi playing the zither and composing music kept flashing past.
The faster Zhang Liangxi's thoughts raced, the more his head hurt. He wanted to suppress the pain, yet could not help trying to remember the dream...
By now, it was afternoon.
The headache grew steadily worse, until it felt like needles stabbing him. Just then, a rustling came from beside the road. Zhang Liangxi immediately grew alert. He looked toward both sides of the road, where figures seemed to be moving swiftly.
But Zhang Liangxi betrayed nothing and continued driving the carriage at an unhurried pace. He looked like nothing more than a harmless old man traveling alone.
At last,