The Dragon Maiden did not fly lightly, but when she flew, she soared to the heavens; Dan Niao did not sing lightly, but when she sang, she astonished the world.
Baozhu leaned against Wei Xun and wailed, tears and snot streaming down her face. More than a month's accumulated hurt poured out like floodwaters bursting through a dam, soaking his clothes from shoulder to chest.
She cried with such utter abandon that a fine sweat broke out over her head. Holding her, Wei Xun felt as though he had a warm, soft little stove in his arms. Its warmth seeped straight into his chest, melting his frozen heart and lungs.
At last, her tears had come, and he knew that he had managed to keep her with him. Grief and joy mingled, knotting his tender heart. It seemed to him that all the martial-world nicknames put together could not outshine "Crybaby"-so pitiful, lovable, and worthy of respect that it fairly blazed with light. Unable to restrain his feelings, he secretly kissed her sweat-damp hair at the temples, his heart pounding like a drum.
Her tears washed open the knots of pent-up anguish. Between sobs, Baozhu told him about her companion Mi Moyan, and only then learned that Wei Xun had reached her in time because he had discovered the three-finger rouge mark left on the boy's chest. From her initial refusal to face the facts to her final confrontation with the cruel truth that death had parted them forever, Baozhu clung tightly to him and burst into tears again.
Holding each other close, they murmured at length, each recounting the torment they had endured during their separation. After pouring out her heart in tears that seemed wrung from her very blood, Baozhu sniffled and complained softly, "You stink."
Wei Xun