Dark clouds covered the moon, and as expected, it rained that night.
The world plunged once more into darkness and noise, yet the lamp in the courtyard was still lit. Its glow reached inside the room, where Huai Xu's bright eyes fixated on the wooden token he was unconsciously caressing in his hand.
He had been doing this frequently lately.
From the bed beside him came Zhou Li's even breathing.
He had fallen asleep.
Huai Xu quietly got up, perched himself on the windowsill, and took out the pendant, looking at it against the dim light outside the window.
"Master Ming,"
"Pingding Army,"
"Jia Si..."
he murmured softly to himself.
After a long while, he retreated, sat on the floor with his knees hugged to his chest, and stared blankly at the rain dripping in the light of the window.
The sound of rain induced sleepiness. He didn't know how long it had been when he leaned against Zhou Li's bed and slowly closed his eyes as he looked up.
Voices seemed to whisper in his ear—
