The morning air was cool and fresh, carrying the scent of dew and distant woodsmoke. The sun hung low on the horizon like a molten red orb, painting the sky in hues of fire as the cart lurched into motion. Around them, the world was slowly stirring—the first shopkeepers unshuttering their windows, farmers heading toward the fields.
As the inn faded into the distance, Fei turned to Xinyan, her voice soft but earnest beneath her mask.
"Xinyan, please don't worry about me. Just perform as you practiced. I… I really don't want to be on that stage. I'm not confident enough to even stand near it."
Xinyan let out a gentle sigh, her shoulders easing in acceptance. "Alright. I won't push you anymore." She glanced at Fei, curiosity flickering in her eyes. "But what will you do there, then?"
Fei thought for a moment. "I'll be in the audience, clapping the loudest for your performance."
Xinyan laughed, the sound bright and clear in the quiet morning air. "I'm not talking about that! I mean—will you try to find the disciples who saved you?"
"Oh… maybe." Fei smiled shyly beneath the mask at the misunderstanding. "I don't know who they were, but I hope that if I find them… they might help me."
"They will," Xinyan said, her tone warm with conviction. "I'm sure of it." The admiration in her voice was palpable—a quiet radiance Fei couldn't ignore.
Curious, Fei leaned closer. "How do you know them so well? Can you tell me how you met?"
Xinyan's eyes widened, a faint blush blooming on her cheeks. "H-how did you know that I've met them?"
Fei's smile widened beneath the mask—her intuition had been right. "It was just a feeling," she said gently. "The way you speak about them… it isn't just from stories. It sounds like a memory."
Xinyan looked down, her fingers tracing the fine silk of her skirt. The blush on her cheeks deepened as she began her story.
"It was nearly a year ago, during the Lantern Festival," she said softly. "A few disciples came to perform at a refugee camp. They brought supplies to donate… but they ended up putting on a small show, too. Their performance was so graceful and mesmerizing." She paused, eyes distant with recollection.
"Then suddenly, a fire broke out in the tents near where the audience was seated. It spread so quickly… but they stopped their performance and rushed to help. They organized everyone, led people to safety, comforted the children so they wouldn't cry—and in the end, they managed to stop the fire." Her voice dropped to a near whisper. "And I was one of the people they saved."
Fei watched her friend's face—how her features softened, her eyes glimmering like lanternlight. A teasing smile curved Fei's lips.
"The one who saved you… he must have been very handsome."
Xinyan ducked her head, her blush deepening to a crimson that reached her ears. She fidgeted with the end of her sleeve, her voice barely audible over the creaking cart. "He… he probably doesn't even remember me."
"Even if he doesn't," Fei said gently, smiling behind her mask, "he'll surely fall for you today. He won't be able to look away after seeing your breathtaking beauty—I promise."
Xinyan turned her face away, but the blush on her neck betrayed her. Fei let the silence settle, the gentle teasing fading into something more heartfelt. She hadn't expected such a touching story, and now she saw the true source of Xinyan's passion—not just a dream of power, but a heart kindled by a memory of warmth and heroism. The lingering blush on Xinyan's cheeks only made her fiery spirit seem more human, more radiant.
After a while, the cart trundled past the last outlying fields, leaving the familiar village behind. The scenery melted into a shadowed path canopied by ancient trees, their branches weaving a tapestry against the brightening sky. The raw, untamed beauty of the forest rose around them—the deep greens, the chorus of unseen birds, the profound quiet. Watching the wilderness embrace them, Fei felt a surge of emotion, a sense of stepping out of one world and into the very heart of another.