The towering southern gate of Nanjing loomed behind them as Yuwen and Shou An urged their horses forward.
This was where the journey truly began.
The capital's stone walls faded into the distance, replaced by long stretches of open road and winter bare trees. Cold winds cut against their cloaks, carrying dust and the faint scent of frost. With strong horses beneath them and no intention of lingering, they pressed on steadily, knowing that Suzhou could be reached in four to five days, if they maintained their pace.
By dusk, their bodies ached from hours in the saddle.
The sky darkened into a muted indigo when they finally spotted a guesthouse on the outskirts of a small town, stone ferry village, its lanterns swaying gently in the wind. A handful of travelers were already inside merchants, a wandering scholar, a pair of laborers warming themselves near the hearth.
Yuwen dismounted first, handing the reins to the stable boy. Shou An followed in silence.
They entered the guesthouse together and approached the counter.
The owner, a round faced middle aged man, glanced at them and smiled knowingly."How many rooms?"
"Two," Yuwen answered without hesitation.
The owner blinked, eyes darting between them. "Two…?" His gaze lingered a moment too long, clearly having mistaken them for a married couple traveling together.
Yuwen raised her brows slightly and let out a sharp breath."We're quarreling," she said flatly, her tone edged with irritation. "Badly."
Shou An did not react. He simply nodded once, as if this explanation were perfectly reasonable.
The owner scratched his head, confused but unwilling to pry. "Ah… ah, I see." He reached beneath the counter and produced two wooden room keys, sliding them forward. "Rooms are upstairs, second floor."
Before he could say more, another group of guests entered noisily, demanding hot water and food. The owner immediately turned away, his confusion forgotten in the rush of business.
Yuwen and Shou An ascended the narrow staircase.
Halfway up, Yuwen lowered her voice."I said that so we wouldn't attract attention," she explained quietly. "A lone man and woman sharing one room invites questions."
Shou An nodded once more. "Understood."
There was nothing else to say.
At the corridor, their rooms turned out to be side by side.
Shou An paused only long enough to incline his head in acknowledgment before unlocking his door and stepping inside.
Yuwen lingered a moment, a faint awkwardness settling in her chest. She shook it off, unlocked her own door, and entered.
That night, beneath the same roof but separated by thin wooden walls, they lay awake.
Shou An stared at the ceiling, alert even in rest, replaying the fragments of overheard words and unfinished truths while, Yuwen turned on her side, thoughts tangled between duty, fear, and the name she dared not speak aloud.
Before dawn fully broke, Shou An and Yuwen were already awake.
The guesthouse was quiet, the air was still heavy with sleep. They ate a simple breakfast steamed buns and thin porridge neither lingering, neither speaking more than necessary. Once the horses were saddled, they set out again, hooves striking the road in a steady rhythm as the pale morning light stretched across the land.
By noon, they passed through Willow Archive HAmlet.
It was a small, secluded settlement, known for housing former clerks and dismissed record keepers, those who had once worked with documents and seals before fading quietly into obscurity. Old willow trees lined the narrow paths, their bare branches swaying softly in the wind, as if whispering secrets long buried.
Yuwen's gaze sharpened.
They dismounted and began their search.
They asked careful questions, never mentioning names only describing a scar behind the ear, a crescent shaped mark. Shou An observed silently, watching faces, reading pauses and half-finished answers. They moved from one household to another, from tea stall to bookshop, but each inquiry ended the same way.
No one knew.No one remembered.
As the sun sank low, disappointment settled quietly between them.
By the time darkness crept in, the road ahead grew dangerous. The wind carried unfamiliar sounds, and somewhere in the distance, an animal howled. A middle aged woman, noticing their hesitation, approached cautiously.
"You shouldn't travel at night," he warned. "The roads here aren't safe. Beasts roam freely once the moon rises. If you don't mind… you may stay at my home."
Yuwen and Shou An exchanged a brief glance before Yuwen nods.
The house was modest, warmed by a single oil lamp and the faint scent of dried herbs. When the woman apologized that there was only one room available, an awkward silence followed.
Shou An spoke first."You may take the bed," he said calmly to Yuwen. "I'll sleep on the floor."
Yuwen hesitated. Fatigue weighed heavily on her shoulders, her body aching from days of travel. "You don't have to..."
"It's fine," he interrupted gently.
In the end, exhaustion won. Yuwen lay down, her thoughts blurring almost instantly as sleep claimed her.
The night deepened.
Sometime past midnight, Shou An opened his eyes.
He rose without sound.
Dressed in black from head to toe, a wooden mask covering his face, he secured a small bag to his back its contents carefully wrapped, too precious to be exposed to careless eyes. He slipped out of the room, his movements fluid and silent.