The virtual figure left Yumen Pass.
He rode his horse through wind and snow, though fortunately the storm wasn't too heavy yet.
Snowflakes settled on the virtual figure's hair and the old horse's mane—fleeting, scattered sparks that vanished in an instant.
The virtual figure had never been to Jiangnan, but he'd heard Shang tell countless stories about it:
Painted boats gliding through misty rain, where maidens sang soft ballads;
Moss-green stone paths after drizzle, with ink-black tiles and white walls, mountains cloaked in emerald, waters in jade;
Shang had said the journey to Jiangnan was long, and begged him to take care.
A beggar who'd eavesdropped on storytellers in teahouses had muttered: once you left the city, you entered the jianghu—where monsters and demons from tales might really cross your path. The three greatest dangers in jianghu? Old folk, children, and women.
The virtual figure sensed layers of meaning he couldn't parse, but he set out anyway.
He was already on his way.
The virtual figure traveled toward Jiangnan, with Yumen Pass and its border battles shrinking behind him.
Viewers watched him ride forward, their hearts still lingering on Yumen Pass.
How could that scene of war not twist their hearts?
[Aaaa, I'm so worried! Why war? Peace is so much better. Will Shang and the others who built the wall with him be okay?]
[I'm almost too scared to watch. With fighting here, will the virtual figure meet bandits? Those villagers said the border's poor, full of bandits—like our poor star systems now.]
[Snowing again! Won't he freeze? Bad weather makes travel so hard.]
[Am I the only one worried about the desert inn's waiter and boss? The war must affect them too, right?]
The bullet screen buzzed with more and more fears and discussions.
From the desert inn to Yumen Pass, he'd had send-offs—but ahead, the virtual figure would be alone.
Well, not entirely. There was Snowflake, his horse.
The weather turned foul, but his traveling pack was a decoy. Shang's letters, pay, and his own belongings stayed safely in a spatial button, carry on one's person hidden.
Leaving Yumen Pass, the road grew desolate. Even on horseback, progress slowed in the bad weather.
Luckily, during his stay in Yumen Pass, he'd obtained identity papers. The journey was long, but he'd eventually find post stations.
He traveled slowly, enduring great hardship.
From Yumen Pass to Jiangnan stretched thousands of miles. Snow already dusted the border when he left.
By the time he reached his destination, after endless trials, Jiangnan was welcoming spring.
Near Jiangnan, he spent a "New Year" with strangers at a post station—a grand annual festival where families and friends gathered.
The virtual figure barely grasped such emotions.
In the interstellar age, even nuclear families or clans might have members separated by star systems, even after genetic bonding. Blood ties meant little.
If you wanted to see someone, you could meet on StarNet anytime. What couldn't be said there?
Blood bonds had grown thin, almost meaningless. Adults could sever ties with genetic providers by paying child support.
Many races disowned genetic donors entirely. The Federation and Empire provided breeding subsidies, so biological parents and children often shared no emotional bond.
The virtual figure didn't care. He was more curious about this "Year" festival.
Post station guests explained it was a time for family reunion. Even if you couldn't return, you sent letters to ease their worries.
He'd hoped to deliver Shang's items before Year, but delays—bandits, wrong turns, storms, wilderness survival—slowed him.
But guests added: the 15th day after Year was Lantern Festival, another day for reunions.
This time, he'd make it by then.
Shang knew the virtual figure was mute and the journey would be hell—even able-bodied travelers struggled to cross from border to Jiangnan. So he'd drawn communication notes: for meals, directions, lodging, water.
The virtual figure finally reached Shang's home on Lantern Festival.
A elderly woman led him to a courtyard with ink-black tiles and white walls. She told him to wait, then knocked:
"Shang family! Your third son sent letters via this messenger!"
The virtual figure stared at the copper door knocker. This was Jiangnan—nothing like the desert or Yumen Pass.
Just as Shang had described.
He was warmly welcomed despite his dusty, weary appearance.
His self-cleaning suit was still grimy, but no one minded. For the first time, he entered a Jiangnan courtyard and sipped warm tea.
Shang's family hosted him while eagerly reading the letter. Learning the messenger was Shang's mute friend, they fussed over him—insisting he stay, bathe, and celebrate Lantern Festival.
He was lodged in Shang's old room, wearing Shang's clothes, after a hot bath. Shang's elder sister, divorced and caring for elders, attended him.
"Mute—really, third younger brother shouldn't call you that," she chided gently, serving him yuanxiao (glutinous rice balls) at dinner.
"On Lantern Festival, we eat yuanxiao for family unity. Third Brother's guarding the border, but your arrival with his letter today is an excellent omen!" Shang's father stroked his beard, moved.
"Mute, eat more. You grew up in the borderlands. Afterward, I'll show you tonight's lantern festival—it's wonderful," urged Shang's mother.
The virtual figure had mastered chopsticks by now. In the desert, they'd been wooden; here, bamboo.
In his small bowl were four plump yuanxiao—local treats with faint wine aroma, sweet on the tongue, seeming to soothe all hardships.
Viewers salivated over the delicate, unfamiliar dishes:
[What are these foods? They look amazing! Ugh, I need this game released ASAP—I have to taste them!]
[Are those desserts? Notice their clothes and hair ornaments are finer than the desert folks'. So beautiful.]
[Lily's hiding so many secrets in this round's scenery—like game easter eggs. These must relate to Huaxia civilization, but it feels ancient. Look at the food, clothes, weather, architecture...]
[Lantern Festival! Those round desserts are yuanxiao, right? Shang's sister mentioned a lantern fair—I'm excited!]
After dinner, the moon climbed the treetops.
Shang's elder sister, carrying a lantern, led the virtual figure outside.
Darkness had fallen, but the streets glowed—everyone carried lanterns.
As they walked, crowds thickened, filled with laughter. Young men and women wove through them wearing masks.
Street vendors sold sugar figures, flower cakes, hairpins, and endless varieties of lanterns—dazzling the eyes.
"Guess lantern riddles! Guess lantern riddles!"
"Miss, look at these lanterns—this rabbit lantern is exquisite."
Lanterns everywhere. Viewers strained to examine each unique, intricate design, feeling they'd stepped into this joyous Lantern Festival night.
The market grew crowded; the virtual figure soon lost Shang's sister.
Searching anxiously, a sudden east wind blew—not bringing flowers, but revealing blacksmiths performing firework fireworks of molten iron. Sparks streaked the sky like a tree of fire and silver blossoms.
Looking up, he saw endless lanterns: peony, lotus, pig, dog, screen... strings of brilliant lanterns blooming like thousands of flowers.
Firecrackers popped. Gorgeous fireworks burst overhead, showering down like starry rain.
Music played. Rich families' carriages passed, trailing fragrance. Flute melodies mingled with moonlight on colorful lanterns—turning night into day, light blazing.
Mummers, food sellers, cockfights, drum players, acrobats... a hundred entertainments filled the night, with dragon and fish dances reveling wildly.
Elegantly dressed beauties smiled, their scents mingling. The virtual figure searched left and right, then suddenly turned—there, in the dim light, stood a lone remaining lantern and a beauty's silhouette.
Two check-in scenes appeared simultaneously:
One showed the fiery trees, silver flowers, starry rain, bright lights, and carnival crowds:
East wind blooms a thousand lantern trees at night; stars fall like rain. Perfumed carriages of wealthy steeds fill the road. Phoenix flutes sing, jade vases glow—all night, dragons and fish dance.
The other showed the moment after the feast, turning back suddenly, where lights dimmed and she waited:
Moth ornaments, snow willows, golden threads—laughter fades with faint fragrance. A thousand searches through the crowd. Suddenly turning back, there she stands, where lights dwindle.
Finally, the two scenes aligned, with cryptic characters above:
Jade Table・Lantern Festival Night by Xin Qiji