Location: A quiet, sun-dappled park in the capital.
The air in the capital was different. It was heavier, thick with the scent of dust and politics, a stark contrast to the clean, wild air of the mountains or the salty freedom of the sea. For Lusi, every breath here was a reminder of the gilded cage she had flown back into.
She swung gently on a wooden swing in a secluded corner of the park, the rhythmic creak of the ropes a poor substitute for the sound of ocean waves. Her mind was a storm of confusion and hurt. The image of the guards bowing, the cold formality in Feng's eyes as he was taken away, the feel of his hand slipping from hers—it played on a loop, each time leaving her feeling more foolish. She had traveled with a prince and thought him a pauper. She had offered him a room in her home. The humiliation burned.
A shadow fell across her. She didn't need to look up. She knew his presence now, the specific way the air shifted around him.
She let the swing slow to a stop and stood. Her posture was not the relaxed slouch of a traveler, but the stiff, correct posture of a minister's daughter addressing royalty.
"Your Highness." The title was a shield, cold and polished.
Feng flinched as if struck. The formality was a wall between them, higher and more impenetrable than any palace gate.
"Don't call me that," he said, his voice low and urgent. He took a step closer, his eyes pleading. "We are friends. Just call me the way you used to call me."
The plea was genuine, but it only fanned the flames of her anger. Friends did not lie. Friends did not let others make a fool of them.
Lusi's gaze, usually so warm and open, was now as sharp and assessing as the edge of her swords. "Do you think of me as friends?" The question was a challenge.
"Shé," he breathed, the word full of sincerity. "Of course."
A long, heavy silence stretched between them. The cheerful sounds of the park—birdsong, distant laughter—felt like a mockery.
"Come closer," Lusi said, her voice deceptively soft.
Feng, hope flickering in his eyes, took a tentative step forward. He was within arm's reach now.
"More closer."
He obeyed, closing the final distance, his expression open and apologetic. He was so focused on her eyes, trying to find the girl from the river, that he never saw it coming.
Her hand moved faster than one of her thrown blades. WHACK! The slap to the side of his head wasn't meant to seriously injure, but it was firm, stinging, and carried the full weight of her indignation.
"Ah!" he yelped, more out of shock than pain, his hand flying to his ear. "That's domestic violence!" The protest was automatic, born from their familiar, teasing dynamic.
"We are outside," she retorted, her voice flat, though a flicker of that old spirit shone through her anger.
"Then it's outside-of-domestic violence!" he shot back, rubbing his head, a bewildered smile tugging at his lips despite himself. He was being scolded, and it was terrifying and wonderful all at once. This was the Lusi he knew.
"You!" she scolded, the familiar term of address slipping out. "Why did you lie, you leech!" The insult was childish, and that made it more heartfelt.
Feng's shoulders slumped, not in defeat, but in relief. The wall was cracking. He brought his hands together in a formal salute and bowed his head, his next words utterly sincere. "Ah, duìbùqǐ! Forgive me."
He waited, head bowed, for her judgment. The silence lasted three heartbeats.
"Hăo de."
Just like that, it was over. The anger drained from her posture, replaced by a weary acceptance. The apology was accepted. The debt was paid. The strange, unspoken rules of their friendship had been upheld.
Feng looked up, the relief on his face palpable. The storm had passed. The trust, though bruised, was not broken.
"I have to tell you something," he said, his voice regaining its gentle warmth.
Lusi finally met his gaze fully, her eyes curious now, the coldness gone. "What?"
The ghost of a smile returned to his lips. This was the moment. "I am going on a trip. On a ship, for a world trip."
As he spoke, he watched the transformation. The hurt in her eyes didn't just vanish; it was eclipsed. A light began to kindle deep within them, a spark that grew into a brilliant, hopeful shine. It was the look she had when she talked about the lotuses on the water or the stars in the middle of the ocean. He was smiling now, unable to contain his own joy at her reaction.
"But," he continued, the smile turning playful, "I don't have anyone to go with. So... will you be my travel buddy?"
The answer was immediate, bursting from her with uncontainable joy. "I will! I am ready anytime!" A huge, radiant smile spread across her face, erasing the last traces of their tension. Then a flicker of doubt, the memory of his last deception. "You are not teasing, are you?"
"I am being for real."
The assurance was all she needed. Pure, unadulterated elation took over. She grabbed his hands, doing a little, happy jump on the spot. "Hăo! Hăo!" In her exhilaration, she reached up and held his face in both her palms, her touch warm and familiar. "I can't believe my dream is going to come true!"
She released him, turning away to punch the air in a victory gesture she'd probably picked up in some foreign port. "Yaahoo!"
Feng stood frozen for a second, then slowly raised his own hands to touch his cheeks where hers had been. The skin tingled. A deep blush spread across his face, but his smile was wider than it had been in years. He watched her celebrate, this force of nature, and knew with absolute certainty that he would follow her to the ends of the earth.
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