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After all the running, the horses need food and shade. That is why Ming Zhu'er leads them toward the nearby trees while they neigh in apparent agreement. He must be quick with his hands if he wishes to sit with the others and hear of their latest escapades.
He returns after fastening the lead ropes around a large tree, leaving enough slack for the horses to move freely and graze. Then he makes his way toward the gazebo, where his master, Zhan Zhao, and his two new friends—the White Rat and Miss Huo—are seated. He chooses the empty space beside his master.
They speak of the ordeal as though it were nothing more than an adventure.
Miss Huo is elegant, her demeanor graceful. She smiles bashfully at Bai Yutang's antics and nods at Master Zhan Zhao's perceptive observations. She truly resembles a flower.
A flower with thorns.
She may appear timid and cautious, but her skills are lethal. The fact that she is a warrior woman alone makes her the most fearsome among all.
Ming Zhu'er's attention is soon caught by something the White Rat is saying.
This man speaks freely, without pause. His thoughts flow like a brush across a painting. Yet much of what he says is cunning. Ming Zhu'er knows this man well, especially after the torment he put him through over the past few days.
Bai Yutang is arrogant. He believes his martial arts surpass those of most others—and he is not entirely wrong—but he has the irritating habit of making sure everyone knows it. He is reckless, willing to risk everything merely to prove a point, no matter how trivial. He is stubborn, inclined to choose the difficult path over the easy one simply because it suits him.
Bai Yutang is a cruel man.
A balmy breeze slips through the open sides of the gazebo, stirring their robes and tousling their hair. Then something happens.
Something that shifts everything.
"Your dealings with the prince may become more frequent," Bai Yutang says conversationally. His hand rises to Zhan Zhao's hair and, with surprising gentleness, tucks a loose strand behind his ear. "Though I would hardly call that a misfortune."
Ming Zhu'er's attention snaps immediately to his master, searching for a reaction. Yet the man offers only a faint smile—so small it is nearly imperceptible—before lowering his gaze.
Almost as though he were shy.
Ming Zhu'er turns to Miss Huo and finds her frowning thoughtfully.
The servant boy can only stare in awe, especially when Bai Yutang withdraws his hand and continues speaking as though entirely unaware of what he has just done.
Then indignation rises within him.
Slowly, however, that indignation gives way to contemplation.
After much thought, Bai Yutang may seem to be everything Ming Zhu'er has always believed him to be. After all, that is what everyone thinks of him.
But Master Zhan Zhao would never keep close company with a man like that.
No.
It is not cruelty.
It is passion.
Bai Yutang does everything with passion. He speaks with passion, laughs with passion, fights with passion, and cares with passion.
His methods may seem extreme, but only because he refuses to do anything halfway.
Not long afterward, Prince Xiao Zhao's wagon arrived.