Xiang Xian had made it clear: I don’t expose your weaknesses, so don’t come lecturing me.
When Xiao Kun heard this, he suddenly felt very uncomfortable.
He thought he’d long since come to terms with it—after all, bloodline wasn’t something one chose—but hearing it from Xiang Xian’s mouth still hurt. Clearly, he wasn’t as nonchalant as he believed.
The carriage fell silent for a time as they left the Guanzhong Plain, heading west.
Spring nights were short, and day rose high. The first to break the silence in the carriage was Chaosheng.
Chaosheng finally woke up, stretching lazily in Wu Yingzong’s arms.
Wu Yingzong bowed and stepped out of the carriage, leaving space for the three.
“Huh?” Chaosheng asked. “Did you two fight again?”
Xiang Xian: “?”
Xiao Kun: “…”
“How did you tell?” Xiang Xian asked.
“Because you two aren’t hugging,” Chaosheng said.
Xiao Kun: “When did I ever hug him?”
Chaosheng: “Like this, right? You two are always… one lying in the other’s arms.”
“That was because the carriage was too cramped!” Xiang Xian said.
“Fine.” In Chaosheng’s understanding, Xiang Xian and Xiao Kun’s relationship was probably like his own with Wu Yingzong—they liked each other a lot, so they were always hooking arms, hugging, and such. Even if they quarreled, it wouldn’t be a big deal.
“Ignore him,” A Huang suddenly said from where it perched above Xiang Xian’s head. “He gets angry whenever this topic comes up.”
“A Huang!” Xiang Xian grew even angrier.
Chaosheng wanted to laugh but didn’t dare, nearly asking “what matter,” but after thinking it over, he now knew better than to pry when reading faces.
“Have we reached Western Xia yet?” Chaosheng asked next.
“At nightfall,” Xiang Xian replied curtly.
Xiang Xian clearly didn’t want to talk, but with Chaosheng awake, the three had to converse. Xiao Kun sensed Xiang Xian was still sulking—though his own words had sparked it, it was really Xiang Xian’s inner demon at work. Several times Xiao Kun tried to ease things, but Xiang Xian ignored him.
“Let me see what everyone gave me today.” Chaosheng first rummaged near Xiao Kun. Xiao Kun said, “Not on me. Check with Master.”
So Chaosheng turned to Xiang Xian, digging into his Qiankun Bag. “Steamed buns, buns—I want to eat.”
“They’re all steamed overnight by the common folk,” Xiang Xian replied. “No need to buy staple grains on the road.”
“Take fewer,” Xiao Kun said. “For lunch… wait! Don’t dump them out!”
Xiang Xian and Xiao Kun both stopped Chaosheng at once. There was a “bang” in the carriage, filled with white flour and cornmeal steamed buns and flatbreads. Wu Yingzong caught them outside, or the whole carriage would have erupted in a flood of pastries and flour goods.
The three were squeezed by buns inside the carriage. Wu Yingzong scrambled about before finally packing them back.
That night, they passed through Yulin and arrived beneath the border pass between Western Xia and Song. Wu Yingzong said, “Lord Xiao, Master, beyond the border pass are all Western Xia garrison troops—no inns to rest at.”
“Camp then,” Xiao Kun said. “We’re just passing through. We’ll leave at first light tomorrow.”
There were plenty of campsites outside Yulin Pass, with bonfires lit everywhere—mostly merchant caravans traveling between Western Xia and Song. Xiao Kun set up the tents. On this early spring night, back in the Northern Regions, the brilliant starry river stretched across the sky.
They divided dry rations and water. Wu Yingzong boiled tea over the campfire, and they all sat by the fire gazing at the starry river.
Chaosheng murmured, “The Heavenly Veins are so beautiful.”
“You can see the Heavenly Veins?” Xiang Xian asked.
“You can’t?” Chaosheng asked in surprise. “What about Kun-ge?”
“I can,” Xiao Kun explained to Xiang Xian. “Probably because of Nether Eyes.”
“Old Wu, can you see them?” Xiang Xian asked.
Wu Yingzong pondered briefly and said, “I’m of the Yao Clan, so yes, Master.”
“The Heaven-Earth Veins are the great wheels of energy in Shenzhou,” Chaosheng said to Xiang Xian. “At dusk and dawn, they briefly connect.”
“Mm.” Xiang Xian gazed abstractedly at the starry sky and said, “Master once said that after people die, their souls enter the Heavenly Veins and reincarnate in the wheel of fate.”
Xiao Kun sighed with feeling. “The growth of all things, the changes of the world, the links of cause and effect—all are within this Giant Wheel of Fate. No one can escape it.”
“But I’ve never seen it once,” Xiang Xian said offhandedly. He looked up at the Milky Way overhead, realizing that the starry host in Xiao Kun’s eyes was different from the night sky in his own.
Wu Yingzong said, “Someone once said that when Shenzhou Great Land reaches a turning point in its destiny, the Giant Wheel of Fate will fully appear. Even mortals will see it then, but only briefly—of course, it’s just a rumor.”
“Does the White Jade Palace believe in fate?” Xiao Kun asked Chaosheng.
“Of course,” Chaosheng said. “But not the fate mortals speak of.”
Xiao Kun: “What exactly is fate?”
Xiang Xian suddenly lost interest and stood to leave.
Chaosheng said, “I’ve never felt true fate, but Pi Changge told me… before the Queen Mother of the West ascended, he asked her this question.”
Xiao Kun signaled Chaosheng to pause the chat and turned to watch the direction Xiang Xian had gone, then followed.
Xiang Xian lay on a slightly higher rock, using his Wisdom Sword as a pillow. Xiao Kun circled the stone and placed a hand on the sword hilt, pretending to draw it.
“Don’t touch or fiddle,” Xiang Xian said. “I don’t want to accidentally hurt you.”
