The night passed like a fading shadow. The air was cool, the breeze whispering through the trees as Lianfang and Wenyan fled through the narrow paths and forgotten roads of Jiangnan. The city—its streets bathed in lantern light, its marketplace alive with the bustle of late-night trade—was slipping further behind them with each step. The world they had known was already slipping into memory, its safety and constraints fading into the distance.
Lianfang moved ahead with the surety of someone who had walked these roads before. Her every movement seemed preordained, graceful, like the wind itself had chosen to guide her. But Wenyan noticed the slight tremor in her hands, the way her breath quickened as they neared the outskirts of the village. Even a world of her own making could not shield her heart from the uncertainty that awaited them.
He stayed close, his heart beating against his ribs, keeping the rhythm of the night steady. Their time together had been stolen in the quiet hours before, and now they were running toward something no one could predict—not even the stars.
"I've always wanted to see the ocean," Lianfang said quietly, after a long silence.
Wenyan glanced at her. The moonlight caught the edges of her face, making her look more like a dream than a woman. "The ocean?" he asked, puzzled.
"A place where the land ends," she murmured. "Where no one can chase you anymore."
Wenyan's heart squeezed, but he didn't know how to respond. The thought of being chased, hunted, always made the ache in his chest grow. He had never imagined his life could be reduced to this—fleeing, hiding—but now he understood the weight she carried. It was not just the pursuit of her family's honor, but the suffocation of a life that had never been hers to choose.
The path ahead became steeper, winding toward the distant hills that guarded the ancient roads leading south. Lianfang turned to him, her eyes searching his face in the dark. "We don't need to make it to the ocean. Not yet. We only need to make it far enough."
He nodded, not trusting his voice.
They passed a small inn along the way. The lanterns inside flickered, and they paused for a moment, watching the travelers inside. A couple sat by the hearth, sharing a bowl of soup, their voices soft in the quiet of the night. For a second, Wenyan wondered what it would be like to sit there with Lianfang, to exist in the world they had always dreamed of, to laugh at simple things without fear.
But the moment passed. And they kept moving.
As dawn approached, they found shelter in a hidden grove near the foot of the hills. The trees here were ancient, their trunks twisted and scarred by time. It felt like a sanctuary—far from the world they had known.
Lianfang sat against a large stone, her eyes closed as the first light of morning washed over her face. Wenyan, on the other hand, stood vigil, watching the road ahead, his senses alert to every sound. The night had passed, but the danger had not.
"I'm sorry," Lianfang whispered after a long silence. "For dragging you into this."
Wenyan turned to her, his expression softening. "I chose this," he said quietly. "Don't apologize. We're not running away from something. We're running toward something."
She met his eyes, and for the first time in hours, a small smile tugged at her lips. It was fleeting, like the first hint of dawn breaking through the night.
"Do you really think we can make it?" she asked, her voice barely audible.
Wenyan crouched beside her, his hand reaching out to touch the side of her face gently. He searched her eyes, seeing the doubt that lingered there. The weight of her question hung between them.
"We have no choice but to try," he said. "And if we fail, we will fail together."
Her breath hitched, and for a moment, it seemed as though the whole world paused—an invisible weight between them, pressing them closer, binding them with a promise made in the quiet.
"I would rather fail with you than live without you," she whispered.
Wenyan's heart thundered in his chest. He could feel the truth of her words deep within him, a truth that had been growing since the first moment they met. There was no turning back now. They were on the road to a future neither of them could fully see, but the choice had already been made.
As they journeyed deeper into the hills, they encountered fewer travelers. The roads were empty, the villages sparse. The further they traveled, the more the land seemed to stretch—endless fields of rice, hills dotted with scattered pines, rivers that glittered in the early morning sun.
For days, they moved like shadows through the landscape, stealing moments of rest when they could, but always looking over their shoulders. The air grew colder, and the quiet of the wilderness seeped into their bones. Wenyan could sense that Lianfang's resolve was wavering, that the weight of uncertainty pressed on her every step.
And yet, she never stopped. Never faltered.
They came to the village of Wuyuan on the fifth day of their journey, just as dusk began to settle in. Wenyan had heard rumors of this place—an ancient town nestled against the foothills, where travelers often sought refuge in the monasteries that dotted the landscape. It was quiet here, hidden away from the rest of the world.
But it was also dangerous.
Lianfang's family had spies everywhere. And they knew she had left.
"We need to keep moving," Wenyan said, glancing around nervously. "I'll find a place to stay for the night, and we'll leave at first light."
"No," Lianfang said firmly, gripping his arm. "We'll stay here tonight. We're not running anymore."
Wenyan met her gaze, his heart thudding in his chest. The weight of her words pressed heavily on him. He had always been the one to think ahead, to keep them moving forward, but now, it was her choice.
And he realized—just as much as she was running from the chains of her past, he too was running from the man he had always been.
If they were to survive, they needed more than escape. They needed each other. Completely. Fully.
And for the first time in days, Wenyan allowed himself to feel the brief flicker of peace.
They were here.
And here was all they needed.