The sweat-stained note, trembled in the hand of the man on his way to the meeting, his heart heavy with anxiet…
The sweat-stained note, trembled in the hand of the man on his way to the meeting, his heart heavy with anxiety.
He kept telling his daughter to wait a little longer.
Wait until Father's name echoes through the jianghu; then I'll return for you.
Wait until Father persuades the abbot to ease your pain, so it no longer aches.
Wait until Father rises to high office; then everyone in the jianghu will... will what again?
He had forgotten.
When he received her invitation, he was just being chastised by his superior for missing a banquet.
He thought maybe it was fate—today he was too weary, too worn to get back on his feet.
He could retire, go home, and bring his willing daughter along.
So he came.
He slipped on the new shoes that came with the letter, a little loose but cherished nonetheless.
Light on his feet, he hurried toward the warehouse, quicker than falling down the city gate's arena—like an old dog learning to leap anew.
This time, he vowed, he would never make his daughter wait again.
Go home, Lan Shouchi. He whispered in his heart. Take her hand and go home, happily together.