"It is beautiful," Gu Zhiwei sighed, standing next to Ji'an. "Brother Lin, I hope we are assigned to the same peak. I feel we have a lot to talk about."
"Maybe," Ji'an said noncommittally.
Wangchen stepped between them again. "The hour is late. We are leaving."
He grabbed Ji'an's arm, firmly this time.
"Goodbye, Young Master Gu. Young Master Wen."
He didn't wait for a response. He practically dragged Ji'an away from the riverbank, moving with a speed that bordered on fleeing.
They walked back to the inn in silence. The festive atmosphere had dimmed. The streets were emptying as the curfew approached.
Wangchen was walking fast, his grip on Ji'an's sleeve unyielding.
"Hey, slow down," Ji'an laughed breathlessly, trying to keep up. "Little Puddle, the vinegar smell is so strong it's choking me."
Wangchen stopped abruptly under a streetlamp. He turned to face her.
His face was a mask of frustration and vulnerability.
"Why?" he asked.
"Why what?"
