then another week. She had been given a path to walk, and the only way to begin was to take the first step.
The path descended through a forest of pine and cedar before curving out of sight. The morning mist brushed Qiao Zhi's face, cool and damp. Her pack shifted against her shoulder as she walked. Behind her, the voices of the disciples gradually faded, followed by the distant ring of Mount Hua's training bell. She kept going until the bend in the road hid the gate and the stone walls from view. Only then did she allow herself to stop.
