"All right," Pei Ye said. In fact, Xi Zhou had invited him to go see it with her tomorrow evening. He was long used to it: one of these two cultivated the Dao, the other cultivated technique. Neither possessed a swordsman's sensitive, beautiful soul.
The three finished the tableful of dishes, and the wine dwindled too. When only the last three cups remained, they all stopped without a word of agreement. Pei Ye looked at the other two, raised his cup, and declared, "Then, to us 'Tang Three Swords'-"
Yan Feiqing raised his chopsticks to block his mouth.
Yang Zhenbing seized the chance to say, "We three friends met the year before last, strangers whose carriage canopies met and who felt like old companions, inseparable as body and shadow. Today brings a bitter parting. May affection remain after we have gone, and may we think of one another often."
Yan Feiqing raised his cup. "On the evening we gathered here, the thunderstorm was cold."
Pei Ye thought for a moment, then could only raise his cup along with them. "Well said."
When they went downstairs, the light rain had stopped, and a pale moon was climbing above the rooftops.
Pei Ye did not return to the sword academy. Tucking his umbrella beneath his arm, he headed toward the Cultivation Literature Academy. Muddy water splashed his shoes. He waved a hand, and the turbid rainwater flowed into the channels on either side, leaving the street fresh and clean.
Little Cat lay beside his neck, their warmth pressed together, looking at the list in his hand.
"They really have all been checked."
"Mm," Black Cat said. "To begin with, someone wearing a Daoist robe needn't be a Daoist. Besides, Ying Suyu only said that person wore cloud-patterned shoes."
"Yes. But