Two weeks had passed. Mianmian stood before the mirror in her modest apartment, adjusting the hem of her dress over the soft light of dawn spilling through the window.
She smiled at her reflection but it was a practiced smile, one that didn't quite reach her eyes.
A month and a few days had passed since she last saw Lu Yanchen. A week since she arrived in Beijing. And two weeks since she had scattered her master's ashes over the cliffside he loved, a place where the wind danced over the mountains and the river below glimmered like silver.
Her mind drifted back. She remembered the cold wind biting at her cheeks as she knelt at the cliff's edge, the urn trembling in her hands.
"Master… you always loved quiet places.." she whispered, voice breaking. Tears streaming down her face, unchecked, as she poured the ashes into the wind.
