The moment Shen Qiyao disappeared into the kitchen, the atmosphere inside the shrine changed.
Not dramatically.
Not enough for anyone else to notice.
But enough for the two remaining people in the room.
For a few moments, neither He Qing nor Lu Wenyuan spoke.
The silence wasn't uncomfortable.
Only unfamiliar.
The lantern continued burning quietly beside them while the faint sounds of dishes and running water drifted from the kitchen.
He Qing stretched lazily.
Then stood.
"Well."
Lu Wenyuan looked up.
"Well?"
"We're buying wine."
The older man blinked.
"Didn't A-Yuan forbid that?"
"Yes."
"And you're still going?"
"Of course."
He Qing sounded genuinely confused.
"Asking and obeying are completely different things."
For the first time in several minutes, a faint smile appeared on Lu Wenyuan's face.
That answer felt very much like something He Qing would say.
Or perhaps something only He Qing could say.
The two left the shrine together shortly afterward.
The night air was pleasantly cool.
Above them, stars had already begun appearing between drifting clouds.
The narrow mountain path wound downward toward the village, illuminated by lanterns hanging outside distant homes.
For a while, they walked quietly.
Lu Wenyuan's hands remained folded behind his back.
His posture was naturally elegant.
Even after days of travel, there was something refined about him that seemed impossible to hide.
He Qing noticed it.
Everyone noticed it.
Halfway down the mountain, a passing villager immediately greeted him with unusual enthusiasm.
"Good evening, sir!"
Lu Wenyuan returned the greeting politely.
The villager nearly tripped over his own feet.
He Qing stared.
"...Did he almost bow?"
Lu Wenyuan sighed.
"Possibly."
"Why?"
"I have no idea."
"You absolutely know why."
The older man laughed softly.
Perhaps he did.
A little farther ahead, things became worse.
Or better.
Depending on perspective.
The moment they entered the village proper, several curious gazes immediately followed them.
A few merchants straightened.
A group of young women whispered among themselves near a stall selling embroidered handkerchiefs.
One of them glanced toward Lu Wenyuan.
Then glanced again.
Then immediately looked away when their eyes met.
He Qing watched the entire sequence unfold.
"...Ah."
Lu Wenyuan suddenly felt concerned.
The tone sounded dangerous.
"What?"
He Qing pointed.
"I understand."
"You understand what?"
"The problem."
"What problem?"
"The face."
Lu Wenyuan nearly stumbled.
"The face?"
"That one."
He pointed directly at him.
"People keep staring because of that."
For a moment, Lu Wenyuan genuinely had no response.
Then unexpectedly, he laughed.
A proper laugh this time.
"You sound disappointed."
"I am disappointed."
"Why?"
"Now I know why nobody notices me."
Lu Wenyuan looked him up and down.
"You are aware that most people would consider you very good-looking."
"No."
"You aren't?"
"No."
"Interesting."
He Qing nodded seriously.
"Mr. Taller Shen says my survival instincts are poor."
"...What does that have to do with appearance?"
"I don't know."
"Neither do I."
The conversation somehow made less sense the longer it continued.
And yet—
Lu Wenyuan found himself relaxing.
Strangely.
Naturally.
As though speaking with He Qing required no effort.
The realization surprised him.
Because when he had first met the young man, he had been cautious.
Anyone living beside Shen Qiyao would naturally attract scrutiny.
Especially now.
Especially after everything.
Yet the longer he spent around He Qing, the harder it became to maintain suspicion.
Nothing about him felt calculated.
Or ambitious.
Or false.
He simply...
was.
A merchant suddenly called out from a nearby stall.
"Young master!"
The greeting was directed at Lu Wenyuan.
Immediately.
Without hesitation.
The merchant's smile brightened.
"If there's anything you need, please let me know."
Lu Wenyuan thanked him politely.
The merchant looked delighted enough to tell his grandchildren about it.
He Qing watched the exchange.
Then looked at Lu Wenyuan.
Then looked back at the merchant.
Then at Lu Wenyuan again.
"...You're rich."
Lu Wenyuan blinked.
"That was your conclusion?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"People only smile like that when money is involved."
The answer came so quickly that Lu Wenyuan almost laughed again.
For some reason, this young man viewed the world through an entirely different lens.
A simpler one.
An honest one.
And for the first time since arriving at the shrine, Lu Wenyuan found himself wondering something.
Not about Shen Qiyao.
About He Qing.
Who exactly was this person?
The question lingered quietly as they continued walking through the lantern-lit streets.
Eventually, Lu Wenyuan spoke.
"May I ask you something?"
He Qing looked over.
"Depends."
"On what?"
"Whether it's troublesome."
The older man shook his head.
Then after a brief pause asked softly—
"How did you meet A-Yuan?"
The village noise seemed to soften around them.
And for the first time that evening, He Qing's expression changed.
Just slightly.
As though a memory had suddenly risen to the surface.
For a while, He Qing did not answer.
The night market was smaller than it had been during the day. Most merchants were preparing to close, lantern light spilling softly across the stone road.
Lu Wenyuan walked beside him patiently.
Eventually, He Qing scratched his cheek.
"Actually..."
"Hm?"
"The first time I met Mr. Taller Shen was because I was being stupid."
A faint smile appeared on Lu Wenyuan's face.
"That narrows it down very little."
"Very funny."
"I thought so."
He Qing sighed dramatically.
Then pointed toward a wine shop ahead.
A familiar one.
Warm lanterns hung beneath the roof.
Several villagers sat outside drinking and talking.
"Right there."
Lu Wenyuan followed his gaze.
"The wine shop?"
"Mn."
"The great beginning happened in a wine shop?"
"It wasn't great."
"It sounds great already."
He Qing ignored him.
"There was a drunk man."
"Of course there was."
"He was shouting."
"Naturally."
"He was pushing people."
"Naturally."
"And then he started pushing me."
Lu Wenyuan nodded.
"So you fought him."
"Obviously."
The answer came without shame.
Without regret.
As though fighting a man twice his size was perfectly reasonable.
Lu Wenyuan pinched the bridge of his nose.
"A-Yuan really chose you."
"What does that mean?"
"It means he has terrible luck."
"I heard that."
"You were supposed to."
He Qing laughed.
The memory softened his expression.
"He appeared out of nowhere."
"A-Yuan?"
"Mn."
"He didn't even look angry."
The smile widened slightly.
"He just stood there."
"And?"
"The drunk man apologized."
Lu Wenyuan immediately looked away.
His shoulders trembled once.
Twice.
Then he laughed.
Because yes.
That sounded exactly like Shen Qiyao.
The two reached the wine shop.
The owner looked up.
The moment he recognized He Qing, his eyes brightened.
"Oi! You're here again?"
"I'm buying wine."
"No."
"I wasn't asking."
The owner pointed immediately.
"Master Shen said no."
"Betrayal."
"Correct."
Lu Wenyuan watched the exchange.
Then noticed something else.
Not a single person called Shen Qiyao "Young Master."
Not a single person treated him like nobility.
Instead—
"How is Master Shen?"
"Did Master Shen's cough improve?"
"Tell Master Shen the vegetables arrived."
"Ask Master Shen if he needs help with the shrine roof."
The words came naturally.
Warmly.
Like family.
Like community.
Like people who genuinely cared.
Lu Wenyuan fell silent.
Because nobody in these mountains knew who Shen Qiyao had once been.
Yet somehow—
They knew him better than many people who had lived beside him for years.
The realization hurt unexpectedly.
The owner finally noticed Lu Wenyuan.
"Ah?"
His eyes widened slightly.
"A guest?"
He Qing nodded.
"Mr. Taller Shen's friend."
Instantly the owner's expression relaxed.
"Oh."
That was all.
No suspicion.
No questions.
Simply acceptance.
If Shen Qiyao trusted someone, apparently the village did too.
The simplicity of it left Lu Wenyuan speechless.
Eventually the wine was purchased.
A small jar.
At least according to He Qing.
A criminally large jar according to everyone else.
They left the shop and began climbing back toward the shrine.
The mountain path grew quieter.
Only crickets remained.
After a while, Lu Wenyuan suddenly spoke.
"When A-Yuan was nine, he hid three injured sparrows inside his room."
He Qing blinked.
"What?"
"He thought nobody noticed."
The older man laughed softly.
"The entire residence knew."
The image appeared instantly.
Young Shen Qiyao.
Serious expression.
Three birds hidden in his sleeves.
He Qing laughed.
"That sounds exactly like him."
"Doesn't it?"
For a moment, Lu Wenyuan's gaze softened.
"A-Yuan has always been kind."
The words lingered.
Not dramatic.
Simply true.
Then he continued walking.
"As he grew older, everyone expected great things."
He Qing glanced sideways.
"How great?"
Lu Wenyuan considered.
"The sort of great that comes with more responsibility than freedom."
The answer surprised him.
Because instead of looking impressed—
He Qing frowned.
"That sounds terrible."
Lu Wenyuan stopped.
"...Terrible?"
"Mn."
He Qing kicked a pebble from the path.
"Everyone deciding your future before you've lived it."
The night wind stirred through the trees.
"No wonder he likes the mountain."
The words landed quietly.
Yet Lu Wenyuan found himself unable to respond.
Because throughout the entire conversation—
He Qing had not once asked:
How wealthy was Shen Qiyao?
How powerful?
How important?
Not once.
Instead he worried about whether Shen Qiyao had been happy.
And somehow—
That told Lu Wenyuan everything he needed to know.
Ahead, through the darkness, the warm lantern light of the shrine finally appeared.
Waiting for them.
Like home.
The lantern light of the shrine remained visible in the distance.
Small.
Warm.
Steady against the darkness of the mountain.
Neither of them spoke for a while.
The conversation from earlier lingered quietly between them.
The image of a young Shen Qiyao hiding injured sparrows.
The expectations that had once surrounded him.
The life he had left behind.
The night wind moved gently through the trees.
Crickets sang somewhere among the grass.
He Qing carried the wine jar beneath one arm while walking along the narrow path.
Beside him, Lu Wenyuan seemed lost in thought.
Eventually, he spoke.
"A-Yuan used to hate banquets."
The comment appeared so suddenly that He Qing blinked.
"What?"
A faint smile touched Lu Wenyuan's face.
"Everyone assumed he enjoyed them."
"He didn't?"
"He tolerated them."
That sounded more believable.
He Qing nodded.
"That sounds like Mr. Taller Shen."
"A-Yuan was very good at looking calm."
The older man glanced toward the distant shrine.
"Even when he was unhappy."
The smile slowly faded.
For a moment, neither said anything.
Then He Qing asked quietly,
"Did he smile much?"
The question surprised Lu Wenyuan.
He turned slightly.
"He smiles now."
"That's not what I asked."
The answer came quickly.
Almost too quickly.
As if He Qing had already noticed the difference.
Lu Wenyuan fell silent.
After several moments, he shook his head.
"Not often."
Something tightened unexpectedly in He Qing's chest.
Not pain.
Not exactly.
Just a strange sadness.
Because he could picture it.
A younger Shen Qiyao carrying expectations too large for his shoulders.
Standing in crowded halls.
Listening politely.
Doing everything correctly.
Smiling only when necessary.
The image felt lonely.
The path curved around a cluster of bamboo.
The shrine disappeared briefly from sight.
Only darkness remained ahead.
Then Lu Wenyuan spoke again.
His voice quieter than before.
"May I ask something?"
He Qing looked over.
"You've already asked several things."
"And yet somehow you're still answering."
"Fair."
The older man laughed softly.
Then his expression became thoughtful.
Careful.
As though choosing his next words.
"If..."
He paused.
"If A-Yuan were asked to return..."
The sentence trailed away.
Neither of them continued walking immediately.
The mountain seemed unusually quiet.
Even the wind had softened.
He Qing lowered his gaze toward the path.
For the first time that evening, he understood where the conversation had been heading.
Not toward the past.
Toward the future.
Toward the thing waiting beyond the shrine.
Beyond the mountains.
Beyond the peaceful life Shen Qiyao had built.
Lu Wenyuan watched him carefully.
Perhaps expecting resistance.
Perhaps expecting fear.
Or perhaps hoping for encouragement.
Instead, He Qing simply asked,
"Does Mr. Taller Shen want to return?"
The question caught Lu Wenyuan off guard.
For a moment, he had no answer.
Because that was the question, wasn't it?
Not what the elders wanted.
Not what the clan wanted.
Not what the court wanted.
What Shen Qiyao wanted.
"I don't know," Lu Wenyuan admitted quietly.
The honesty surprised even him.
He Qing nodded.
Then continued walking.
The wine jar swung lightly at his side.
"I think that's the important part."
Lu Wenyuan stared.
"What do you mean?"
He Qing looked genuinely confused.
"What else could I mean?"
The answer was so simple that it almost felt absurd.
"If he wants to return, then he should."
The mountain path stretched ahead.
Dark.
Quiet.
Peaceful.
"And if he doesn't?"
The question left Lu Wenyuan before he could stop himself.
He Qing thought about it.
Actually thought.
For several moments.
Then smiled softly.
The kind of smile that carried no bitterness.
No possessiveness.
No selfishness.
Just sincerity.
"Then he shouldn't."
The answer settled gently between them.
Like falling leaves.
Like still water.
Lu Wenyuan felt something shift inside his chest.
Because he suddenly realized something.
He Qing was not worried about losing Shen Qiyao.
He was worried about Shen Qiyao being unhappy.
Those were not the same thing.
Not even close.
Most people, when faced with separation, thought about themselves first.
How they would feel.
What they would lose.
What they wanted.
He Qing had skipped all of that entirely.
His first concern was still Shen Qiyao.
As though the answer had always been obvious.
As though there had never been another possibility.
The realization left Lu Wenyuan unexpectedly silent.
After a while, He Qing spoke again.
"You know..."
"Hm?"
The younger man looked toward the stars.
His expression strangely thoughtful.
"When I first met him..."
A small laugh escaped.
"I thought he was the strangest person I'd ever seen."
That sounded believable.
"He barely spoke."
"Also believable."
"He looked like he carried the weight of the world."
Lu Wenyuan's smile faded slightly.
He Qing continued.
"And yet..."
He hesitated.
Only briefly.
"As strange as it sounds, I never felt afraid of him."
The night grew quiet.
"I don't really know why."
He laughed at himself.
"Sometimes it felt like..."
The words stopped.
As though he wasn't sure how to explain them.
"Like what?"
For the first time all evening, uncertainty appeared on He Qing's face.
Then he shook his head.
"Never mind."
Lu Wenyuan waited.
Eventually—
"It just felt like I already knew what kind of person he was."
The words sounded foolish the moment they left his mouth.
At least to him.
He immediately laughed.
"See? Strange."
Yet Lu Wenyuan found himself thinking about the sentence long after it was spoken.
Not because it made sense.
Because somehow it felt sincere.
The shrine finally appeared again through the trees.
Closer now.
The lantern hanging beneath the gate glowed warmly against the darkness.
Home.
Waiting.
For a long while, neither spoke.
Then Lu Wenyuan looked toward the distant light and quietly said,
"Thank you."
He Qing blinked.
"For what?"
The older man smiled.
A genuine one.
Not polite.
Not formal.
Simply honest.
"For staying."
The answer caught him completely by surprise.
He Qing stared.
Then immediately looked away.
Embarrassed.
"I didn't do anything."
Lu Wenyuan laughed softly.
For the first time since arriving at the shrine, he disagreed.
Because he understood now.
Perhaps better than He Qing himself.
Years ago, when the entire world had turned its back on Shen Qiyao, someone had simply stayed.
Not because of status.
Not because of wealth.
Not because of obligation.
Just because he wanted to.
And sometimes—
That was the rarest thing of all.
Together, they continued walking toward the warm light of the shrine.
Toward the place Shen Qiyao had chosen.
Toward the life he had built.
And for the first time since beginning his search, Lu Wenyuan felt a little less afraid of what might happen next.