Xiang Xian urged his horse toward the campsite A Huang had described, where faint firelight flickered from a sheltered mountain hollow. The terrain formed a natural windbreak, and the howling gale masked the sound of his horse’s hooves. Xiang Xian moved silently and approached from downwind, so those at the camp remained utterly unaware even from a hundred zhang away.
He tethered his horse to a nearby tree, preparing to give Xiao Kun a good scare—after all, Xiao Kun had followed him all the way to Xuan Yue Mountain last time in exactly this manner.
Xiang Xian’s vindictive streak always ran deep.
He crept silently toward the campsite, faint voices carrying on the wind.
“Your Highness, are you asleep?” Xiao Kun was still speaking.
Your Highness? Xiang Xian understood at once. Xiao Kun must have been escorting the Liao Crown Prince on the run. After the recent mess with the Song Court, Xiang Xian could sympathize with Xiao Kun’s plight. It couldn’t be easy dragging around such a burden—who knew how long he’d have to keep it up? He shelved his prankish intent and headed openly toward the camp.
But at that moment, the wind in the hollow shifted abruptly, and a bizarre whirlwind descended from the sky!
Xiang Xian stepped back half a pace and looked up at the whirlwind’s source. A Black Giant Bird descended soundlessly. Xiao Kun noticed it too and immediately guarded the tent, shouting, “Who goes there!”
The giant bird spewed a tide of foul breath—Demonic Qi!
The nearby grass and trees withered under the Demonic Qi’s corruption. The giant bird transformed into humanoid form and let out a sinister wail, its piercing shriek echoing through the hollow.
Xiao Kun drew his Tang Dao, which flashed into a gust of wind as he slashed down. The Demon Person dissipated instantly, only to reform behind him, spreading its claws and unleashing a surging torrent of Demonic Qi straight at him!
“Watch out!” Xiang Xian shouted.
Hearing Xiang Xian’s voice, Xiao Kun didn’t hesitate. He bowed low and slid across the ground toward Xiang Xian, who had appeared from the east side of the camp. Xiang Xian held his sword in his right hand and pulled Xiao Kun up with his left.
The two attacked from both sides, charging the Demon Person. It laughed maniacally, spinning in the air and whipping up a storm of Demonic Qi. Yet a golden light faintly emanated from Xiang Xian’s sword sheath, filling the Demon Person with terror.
“It’s afraid of your weapon!” Xiao Kun called out.
Xiao Kun swung his Tang Dao in a fierce chop, but in that instant—before Xiang Xian could even strike—the Demon Person withdrew with a whoosh, vanishing into the air and scattering as black smoke.
“I hate these kinds of Monsters the most,” Xiang Xian said. “You never know if you’ve actually hit them.”
“Me too.” The two exchanged glances, Xiao Kun’s brows deeply furrowed.
But seeing Xiang Xian again filled Xiao Kun with the joy of reunion, as if his arrival had lightened his burdens. The heavy weight he’d carried for days lifted by nearly half, and he breathed a sigh of relief.
Xiang Xian nodded toward the simple tent on one side of the camp, implying: The person inside hasn’t woken up? They weren’t kidnapped, were they?
Xiao Kun lifted the tent flap and peered inside. “Still sleeping.”
“He’s not awake even after that?” Xiang Xian could hardly believe it. He glimpsed a youthful figure sleeping with his back to them.
Xiao Kun sat by the campfire, his expression full of bewilderment.
Xiang Xian asked, “What was that?”
“I don’t know.” Xiao Kun replied. “It appeared out of nowhere.”
The two fell silent for a moment. Xiang Xian shook his personal wine flask and offered it to Xiao Kun, who reached out. Xiang Xian tossed it over, and Xiao Kun took two gulps from the neck.
“Too sweet.” Xiao Kun clearly wasn’t used to southern wine; compared to the Liao Kingdom’s fiery spirits, Xiang Xian’s flask could only be called “brew.”
First time awkward, second time familiar. After nearly a month apart, they skipped the pleasantries. Sharing the same goal drew them closer.
Xiang Xian glanced around. “What brings you to Chengdu?”
“Looking for the Heart Lamp.” Xiao Kun didn’t hide it. He was exhausted; he’d nearly fallen asleep when the sneak attack jolted him awake, and now fatigue crashed over him again. His deep blue eyes held a touch of haze as he looked at Xiang Xian. “You?”
Xiang Xian saw how dazed Xiao Kun was and guessed he hadn’t rested properly in some time.
“Me too. Let’s rest,” Xiang Xian said. “You look beat. I’ll keep watch. We can sort out the details when the sun rises tomorrow.”
No response came. Moments later, Xiao Kun had fallen asleep, one hand still clutching his Tang Dao tightly even in slumber.
Xiang Xian draped his long robe over himself, lounged lazily with A Huang tucked in his bosom, and dozed off outside the tent.
When the sun rose, birdsong filled the air from all directions. Countless birds gathered around their spot, perching on branches, rocks, and high cliffs, all chirping a joyful morning chorus through the valley.
Winter mist rose in the hollow, transforming the pitch-black night into a new scene.
“Huh?” The youth emerged from the tent, rubbing his eyes, and spotted Xiang Xian.
Xiang Xian opened his eyes. With a whoosh, birds scattered across the mountainside.
He lifted his head slightly and met the youth’s gaze.
The youth: “!!!”
The youth stared at him in a daze.
