West of Maple City, along the main road for seven or eight li, then a left turn onto a narrow path. Within half an incense stick's time, you reached the Green Willow River.
Evening breeze. Moonlight danced on the rippling water.
Jiang Chen emerged from the path to find Ling Chuan's thin silhouette standing by the river like a silent tree.
"Let me see, let me see." Zhao Yan darted in front of him, craning his neck. "Crying your eyes out, right?"
Ling Chuan looked weary. "How did you two get here?"
"Your voice is hoarse. You definitely cried."
A rough voice rose from the riverside grass. "Zhao, sometimes you really need a beating."
"Brother Hu? You're here too?" Zhao Yan shrank back. Du Hu hit first and asked questions never. And he didn't care about faces.
"I was drinking here." Du Hu emerged, reeking of wine. "Didn't expect him to drag that bastard here too. Bad luck."
"Exactly! Why bury him at all?" Zhao Yan said. "That heartless snake should've been tossed in the river. Let the fish have him."
Jiang Chen glanced toward where Du Hu had appeared. "He's buried there?"
"Third Brother." Ling Chuan hesitated. "I haven't forgotten what he did. But I remember the good too. I was always hungry. He'd find excuses to keep me around until mealtime. He deserved to die. But I couldn't leave him for the wild dogs." He paused. "And you saved my life at Green Ox Fort that year..."
"Why bring that up?" Jiang Chen cut him off. "My father told me something before he died. Adults aren't children. The first thing adults learn is to agree to disagree. 'I'm not friends with him so you can't be either'—that's childish. Your feelings for Fang Heng are yours. My grudge is mine. They don't have to match."
"True enough." Ling Chuan looked around at the moonlit riverbank. "It feels like yesterday. Nothing here has changed. But we have."
"Nothing stays the same. The only constant is change itself." Zhao Yan spoke with uncharacteristic gravity, then immediately ruined it by pressing close to Ling Chuan. "Burying someone shouldn't take this long. You two were hugging and bawling, weren't you?"
He sprang into the air, cleanly dodging Du Hu's kick.
"Tsk, tsk. Hit a nerve..." Zhao Yan's taunt died halfway as he bowed frantically. "My mistake, Brother Hu!"
Du Hu was already rolling up his sleeves. "No mistake. I was about to suggest a group cry myself."
Watching them, Ling Chuan said quietly, "But I believe some things don't change."
"I agree. Halfway." Jiang Chen said.
Du Hu and Zhao Yan's "spar" somehow became a four-way brawl. Punches, tripping, wrestling. By the end, all four gasped for breath, then burst into laughter, then into tears.
If anyone had passed the Green Willow River that night, they would have reported water ghosts for sure.
The four brothers walked away together, leaving the river behind. Leaving their youth behind.
No one spoke.
Only Zhao Yan muttered over his shoulder: "On the other side, don't betray your friends again, you bastard."
* * *
Moonlight spilled across the Green Willow River. It poured through the broken roof of Huanzhen Temple.
Two figures spoke inside the ruined temple. The pale moonlight made their faces look almost bloodless.
One was a striking woman in crimson robes. Her figure was exquisite, curves in all the right places. The glimpse of pale skin at her neckline drew the eye and held it.
Yet her face was too pale. It should have looked sickly, but instead it lent her a shocking, dangerous beauty. Perhaps it was the vivid crimson of her lips.
She sat on the dust-covered altar without a care, beautiful and brazen.
She traced her lower lip with one finger. "The beggars in this temple are all dead. Troublesome. What will we use to receive the divine will?"
Her voice seemed to circle the cobwebs in the eaves before reaching its destination, hollow and distant.
"A cultivator's life soul would suffice."
The speaker stood in the doorway. Unlike the woman, he wouldn't set a single foot inside the filthy ruin. He pressed an embroidered handkerchief to his nose.
"Oh, so easy to say." The woman laughed. "We kill mortals in secret. Kill a cultivator? You want the Academy knocking on our door?"
"Everyone in this city will die sooner or later." The man frowned. "Must we talk here?"
The woman giggled. "The legendary Zhuo Lie fell right here. The Zhuang authorities searched this place ten times over. There's nowhere cleaner nearby."
At Zhuo Lie's name, she closed her eyes in rapture. Color flooded her pale cheeks. "I can almost smell his magnificent aura..."
"To business." The man interrupted her reverie. "Wei Lin is no pushover, and now we have Dean Dong. We must find the Dao Child soon. Those Qin and Chu barbarians ruined our sacrifice. Instead of snatching mortals one by one, we should just sacrifice a cultivator. Cleaner."
"There's more than one way to die. Why limit yourself? A blade across the throat. Lightning through the heart."
Perhaps annoyed at being interrupted, the woman's beautiful eyes opened, all playfulness gone. "Before the Dao Child appears, you had better learn what 'low profile' means!"
The man grew irritated too. "Miao Qing! As if attacking the Academy wasn't your idea! Now the whole city's in an uproar. One wrong move and everything falls apart!"
"You fool. The world is too large. Accidents happen. Who could have predicted Zhuo Lie would die here? And destroy our sacrifice? The bones at the bottom of the River of Oblivion have slept too long! No more accidents! Dean Dong is critical. We needed to test his strength and limits. Sacrifices are necessary. Besides..."
Miao Qing stretched lazily, her figure on full display. "You know the beggars here aren't all dead? I caught a familiar scent at the Academy..."
The dirty environment made the man more impatient. "Why would I care about a beggar's life or death?"
Miao Qing only yawned, her magnificent form undeniable. "Idiot."
The man's eyes narrowed, hiding a flash of desire. "Don't think being the Dao Child's woman gives you license. The sect has had thousands of Holy Maidens. When the Dao Child appears, whether he wants you, whether he acknowledges you—that remains to be seen."
"Beauty turns to bone. Emptiness and illusion. Can't you see through it?"
"Heh. Whether I see through it or not, what does it matter? It is what it is."
The man turned and walked out.
For a long time, the quiet, ruined temple held only the seductive murmur that drifted like moonlight itself:
"How could he not love me? How could he not want me? I've waited so long..."