After seeing off wave after wave of visitors, the lakeside cabin finally fell quiet-so quiet it felt lonely.
Yang Ge shut himself inside and sat beside the fire pit all night.
That night was especially brief.
He seemed to have thought about a great many things, yet also seemed to have thought about nothing at all.
Early the next morning, a few feet of sunlight slanted through the terrace into the wooden cabin, dispelling the darkness.
As though he had suddenly awakened, he rose, found a wooden bucket, and fetched a bucket of clear, cool water from the lake to douse the embers in the fire pit.
Then, like any ordinary person about to embark on a long journey, he wandered aimlessly around the cabin, sometimes wiping the table and straightening the chairs, sometimes arranging the bowls and plates or putting away the rice and flour...
Only when the sun stood high did he strap the Cold Moon Saber onto his back and emerge from the cabin carrying a small bundle.
Standing at the doorway, he looked back at the neatly arranged furnishings, then down at the little bundle in his hand. Suddenly, his hands felt empty, and so did his heart...
He shook his head with a rueful chuckle, carefully closed the door, and secured the lock, as though he would return again.
Then he turned and stepped into the brilliant sunlight.
He whistled. In the stable, Erhei picked up his own reins and trotted out with a whinny.
Bundle in hand, Yang Ge swung into the saddle. Taking up the reins, he looked back at the lakeside cabin one last time and softly said goodbye. Then he squeezed Erhei's flanks, and the horse carried him at a trot onto the lake embankment before galloping into the sunlight, faster