It was summer, and night had just fallen. The evening breeze was cool.
In eastern Jiangyang Commandery, the ancient road once traveled by merchants had fallen into desolation amid battles between the Immortal Dao and Barbarian incursions. A few insects chirped beside the road, where scattered fireflies glimmered.
The moon was bright tonight, its light drowning out the stars. A hazy red cloud drifted in from the distant sky and slowly descended under cover of darkness.
Not far ahead stood a brightly lit inn, all alone, with no other buildings around it. The red cloud stopped a short distance away.
A man stepped down from the cloud first. He was athletic and carried a girl on his back. She had already fallen sound asleep, her head resting on his shoulder. Her hair was arranged in looped buns, and traces of mud left her face looking dusty.
A white-robed scholar followed, helping an old man down. It was the old boatman. Still shaken, his legs trembled as he barely managed to stand, exclaiming:
"My benefactors, this was the first time this old man has ever flown into the sky. It nearly scared my gall clean out of me."
"Old sir, your granddaughter was delighted. At your age, you mustn't lose face in front of a child."
Zhang Yu looked toward the girl. She was young, and throughout their Wind-Riding journey she had been so excited that she could not stop laughing, forgetting the disaster from earlier. Now, worn out from playing, she had fallen asleep.
The old boatman's surname was He, and his granddaughter was named Zhi Ting. The two depended on each other for survival. Barbarians prowled around their former home, so Liu Xiaowen and Zhang Yu had brought them along toward the peaceful lands farther east.
"A few more