The wooden wheels rolled steadily along the cobblestone path. The uneven, rugged surface barely disturbed the two-horse carriage, firmly framed in polished dark teak wood. On either side stretched fields of withered golden grass, touched by the late autumn breeze, carrying a faint scent of dry herbs and the soft rustling that whispered like the murmurs of earth and sky.
Approaching a river bend, before them stood a newly rebuilt stone bridge—strong and proud—a testament to human hands resisting the ravages of time and nature. The bridge's surface was paved with smooth green stones, each slab square and sturdy, as resolute as the hearts of the craftsmen who forged it.
The wheels rolled steadily over the bridge, the sound echoing down to the river like the steady beat of a drum marking their journey. Beneath the glowing amber dusk, the river flowed swiftly, reflecting the fiery sunset like a silken sash of peach pink stretched across the horizon.
In the distance, misty mountains rose faintly, their low hills undulating like a natural screen blocking the way. According to old Quy—the seasoned driver—barring any misfortune, only two days remained before they would reach Redwind, the prosperous border town nestled in the northern lands of the Đại Liên.
Inside the carriage, the soft clatter of luggage stirred gently, unable to break the quiet calm that spread like a gentle veil.
Ha Cat lifted the curtain, gazing out through the carriage window, her eyes gleaming like polished jade. The scenery enchanted her; every hill, every wisp of mist, every wild stalk of grass was something she had never seen before.
"The furthest I've ever traveled was... that bridge," she whispered, her voice soft as a breath. "This whole world beyond... it feels like a new sky, a whole new horizon."
Si looked at her, a gentle smile curling his lips.
"The world is truly vast, too grand to be captured by books or maps. Nature always finds a way to humble the heart," he said, eyes closing briefly, thoughts drifting: If I were to remain forever in noble studies and ceremonies, forever buried in books, how could I ever know how wide the sky truly is, or how magnificent this world can be?
An old proverb echoed in his mind: "Travel a day's road, gain a basket of wisdom." Never before had its meaning felt so deep.
Morning passed, noon faded, and the afternoon slowly gave way to dusk. The sun blazed like a golden yolk against the indigo sky, the sunset stretching wide, the final rays gently stroking Ha Cat's raven hair.
"Old Quy," Si leaned forward and spoke, "If possible, find us a place to rest for the night."
"Yes, young master," the old driver replied, his skilled hands gently pulling the reins to guide the carriage.
By evening, they stopped before a roadside inn—a two-story building of dark brown limwood, its black tiled roof rimmed with creeping moss. Windows stood ajar, spilling pale golden light from oil lamps enchanted with magic. It was no grand place, but it radiated a warm, familiar comfort like a childhood home remembered.
As soon as the carriage halted, a boy with tousled hair and a bright face rushed out from inside, bowing respectfully:
"Welcome, honored guests. Please dismount. I will lead the driver to park the horses."
Old Quy nodded and jumped down to take the reins. Si turned and called softly:
"Master and ladies, they ask you to come down."
"Yes, sir," Si replied, gracefully stepping down and offering his hand to help Ha Cat and Van.
The three gathered their luggage and entered the inn. Inside was spacious and tidy, lit by softly glowing magical orbs floating from the ceiling, their light gentle as morning mist. The reception desk was made of polished pressed bamboo, behind which stood an elderly woman with silver hair tied neatly back, her figure bent but eyes sharp.
"I'm Mai, the keeper of this place," she said in a hoarse yet kind voice. "How may I assist you, honored guests?"
Si was about to speak when Van cut in:
"Wait, young master. Let's not waste resources. How about sharing one room? Ha Cat, what do you think?"
"I... I have no objection," Ha Cat stammered, cheeks flushed.
Si sighed, conceding.
"Then please provide us with a large room."
"Very well. One large room costs one silver coin. If you dine here, add half a coin more."
"We'll dine as well," Si said, placing a silver coin on the wooden table.
"Môn!" the old woman called loudly.
A girl about eight years old with a high ponytail and faded indigo clothes hurried down the wooden stairs.
"Yes, mother!"
"Show the guests to room 202."
Mai handed Si the key. The three followed the girl up the creaking wooden stairs. Before them was a sturdy oak door, its brass plate gleaming with the number "202."
"Please, come in. If you need anything, just call reception," Môn bowed politely. "Also, will you have dinner? I can bring it up later."
"Yes, thank you."
"I'll go now, won't bother you further."
She slipped away as quietly as a breeze.
The room was cozy. The magic light cast a warm yellow glow. On the clean wooden floor lay four white mats, pillows arranged neatly. A wooden table, a bamboo chest, and a large wardrobe stood in the corner.
The three put down their luggage and sat to rest, their breaths soft, releasing the weariness of the long journey.
Not long after, Mai brought up three trays of steaming hot food. The steam curled upward in fragrant wisps.
"Today's menu: herbal chicken stew, sour snakehead fish soup, and garlic stir-fried water spinach," she said with a smile as she set the trays on the table.
They ate in silence, only the clinking of chopsticks and soft breaths filled the air. The herbal aroma was gentle, the chicken tender as if melting in the mouth. The water spinach crisp, tinged lightly with garlic. The soup was sweet and sour, the fish firm and fresh.
After dinner, Van spoke up:
"Master, we'll ask the innkeeper if we can use the bath."
"Go ahead," Si nodded.
The two girls left. Si changed and sat at the wooden table, opening an old book filled with handwritten black ink. As he read, he practiced his penmanship; deep purple ink marked the white pages, each stroke steady but tinged with nervousness—like a heart unsure yet determined.
After a while, laughter echoed in the hallway. The two girls returned, still damp, their eyes sparkling brightly.
"You two seem quite close now?" Si said with a faint smile.
"Yes, Ha Cat is really close!" Van giggled, wrapping her arms around Ha Cat.
The girl blushed, shyly smiling. Si nodded approvingly: Good. She's opening up.
He still worried that Ha Cat was not yet fully comfortable, still reserved. Van, lively as she was, had only ever confided in him—there were secrets girls didn't share easily—so having Ha Cat as a friend was what Van needed. Seeing them talk and laugh like this was beyond Si's expectation. Bringing Ha Cat along... perhaps it was the right choice.
"Still studying?" Van teased.
"Yes."
"Come on, sleep with us," Van whined.
Ha Cat said nothing, but her eyes glimmered with hope.
"All right," Si surrendered.
They laid down their mats, laughter filling the room.
"Hey, you sleep on the edge," Si said.
"No way!" Van protested, "You have to sleep in the middle, that's only fair!"
Ha Cat blushed but nodded in agreement.
Si just smiled wryly. "Then turn off the lights."
The lights dimmed, leaving only the moonlight filtering through the window, casting shadows of three figures together on the floor.
Van quickly wrapped her arms around Si's, giggling.
"Hey, Ha Cat's right here, you know." Si teased softly.
"It's okay, right, Cat?"
"Y-yes..." Ha Cat whispered, face flushing.
"Why don't you hug master too? It's really cozy!" Van teased mischievously.
Ha Cat hid her face but her hand slowly reached out, lightly gripping Si's arm.
"I give up..." Si sighed, helpless.
"Gotcha!" Van cheered, squeezing tighter.
In the small room, under the pale moonlight, three warm hearts gradually sank into sleep amid the long journey through the vast, magnificent world beyond.
Si closed his eyes,
...but inside, a gentle warmth welled up—a feeling he could not name. The heat from the two girls spread, chasing away the coolness of late autumn, calming his heart more deeply than any page of text.
Outside the window, the night breeze swept across the fields, rustling softly like the lullaby of earth and sky. Inside, only soft breaths, gentle shifts, and the peaceful heartbeat of three souls quietly nestled like a small family.
In the faint moonlight, Si quietly closed his eyes, thoughts drifting to the road ahead—how many journeys, how many trials, how many nights resting at inns by the roadside? But with companions like these, no matter how long the road… it was no longer frightening.