Gu Lanyin said nothing.
His pale face had red lips, and his dark pupils reflected the morning mist. He looked at her absently, with a hint of eeriness.
Wan Niang timidly wrapped her robe around herself and stood at a distance, not daring to approach him.
Afraid of frightening her, Gu Lanyin turned around to change clothes and wash.
Firecrackers sounded again.
The young man buried his whole face in the warm water, feeling a sense of suffocation.
He couldn't see anything.
Hearing those sounds again, he even felt as if this was a funeral.
The night passed in an instant.
He had buried the coffin from the shed.
In the darkness, the smells of mud and decay seemed everywhere. The place where he had been stabbed in his previous life ached.
He pressed the flesh, and a bizarre thought arose in his mind.
If ghosts really existed, then now there was one more person who hated him.
Water dripped from the young man's face, and the corners of his wet lips curled up slightly.
*
After the first month of the lunar year, Old Master Gu decided to let his son set off.
Madam Zhou and Wan Niang stayed home to direct the servants in packing. Seasonal clothes went without saying; they prepared two large carts of local specialties for gifts to relatives and friends, and took out furniture and utensils from the storehouse.
Everyone was busy, but no one set foot in the young master's study.
During this busy time, Gu Lanyin gave a letter he had written to Shan Ming, telling him to deliver it to that cousin in Jixi.
Shan Ming looked at the thin letter, feeling guilty.
Earlier, the young master had had him intercept a letter from the old master. Now, forging the old master's handwriting again and switching letters, he couldn't help worrying, "If the old master finds out, it'll be bad."
The young master would probably be beaten half to death again.
But the young master just glared at him and said coldly, "The whip has never fallen on you. What are you afraid of?"
Shan Ming knew the young master's temperament—he would stop at nothing to achieve his goal. He nodded quickly and wasted no time.
He traveled over mountains, by carriage and by boat, and finally arrived before the addressee. He found a fair-skinned, clear-eyed young man. If not for the sword he carried, Shan Ming would have thought him a scholar.
The young man named Li Xiaobai originally wanted to treat him to a meal, but Shan Ming didn't dare to stay. He wanted to run before the letter was opened.
Unable to persuade him to stay, Li Xiaobai escorted him all the way to the ferry.
As the small boat drifted away, and there was no one at the ferry, Li Xiaobai took out the envelope from his sleeve.
His destination was the northwest. The road was long, and he had limited funds. Only as a last resort had he written to his uncle for help.
After waiting anxiously, the reply finally arrived.
Li Xiaobai let out a breath and unfolded the letter.
But the next moment, he felt as if he had fallen into an ice cave.
The opening of the letter told him to get lost.
As far away as possible.
Author's Note:
Xiaobai: One extroverted effort, a lifetime of introversion.