Wuxin · Chat

The mountain path was narrow, and the hooves sent loose stones skittering off the cliff. Gu Xuanwu lifted the carriage curtain and saw a dust-grey figure standing in the middle of the road. The horses didn't stop. The figure toppled backward, robes catching on the railing before he dropped over the edge. Gu Xuanwu frowned. "What was that?" The soldier driving the carriage craned his neck to look, but all he could see was the grass along the cliff edge trembling. Wind rolled up from the gorge below, carrying the smell of wet earth. Down in the undergrowth at the bottom of the cliff, Yueya had already lost one shoe. She heard a dull thud above her, and the dry grass rustled and parted. She clutched her bundle tight and watched a hand emerge from the weeds, dirt packed under every fingernail. The hand reached toward her, then pulled back, as if uncertain. A young man sat up from the grass — face smeared with grime, but his eyes startlingly bright. He glanced at the steamed bun in her hand, then glanced at her, and said nothing. Yueya broke the bun in two and held out half. He took it, bit into it, and only then mumbled, "Thank you." She asked who he was. He lowered his head and thought for a moment, then said he didn't remember. The sound of carriage wheels came from the clifftop again. Yueya turned to look — the mountain road had curved out of sight, leaving only a haze of dust hanging in the empty air. Wuxin gnawed at the bun, then suddenly looked up toward the top of the cliff. There was something in the wind, a scent he couldn't name — only that it made his teeth ache. Yueya asked what was wrong. He shook his head and stuffed the rest of the bun into his mouth.