That evening, Li Jin'ao came away with a full purse. As the performance concluded and the audience dispersed, he packed up his stage equipment and hurried back to his tent. The size and style of the tents varied according to the guests—his was a modest, thin one tucked in a corner, where he could barely stretch his legs when lying down. Just as he lifted the tent flap, he was startled to find someone already seated inside. Li Jin'ao stiffened, instinctively asking, "Who is that?" He unconsciously tightened the handles of his stage box—he had placed all the gold foil money inside. "Me," came Chang Dong's voice. Li Jin'ao exhaled in relief: it made sense now—why hadn't Zhun Shanhe and Zhun Si Hai responded? It was someone from his own circle. Yet, if he had come to visit, why hadn't he waited at the entrance, but instead had entered the tent first? Li Jin'ao asked cautiously, "Is there something I can help you with?" Chang Dong replied, "Come in and let's talk." Li Jiniao glanced around warily, using both hands and feet to crawl into the tent. Chang Dong moved him to a spot where there was just enough room for two people to sit cross-legged. With the tent flap lowered, the sounds and light outside were blocked out, and the small interior space, though cramped, now felt unusually quiet. Chang Dong said, "Here's something I'd like to ask you to help with. Liu Xi has offended several prominent figures in Black Stone City. On the surface, they say they won't pursue the matter, but you've probably noticed the route we're taking—it's heading toward the Shui Du Yan terrain." Li Jiniao's heart pounded: "Exile? Exile?" He'd heard of the Black Stone City's exile tradition—it usually ended badly, and to send someone to such a remote, lifeless place as Shui Du Yan was nothing short of deliberate and clear in its intent. He asked, "Was it specifically Hua Guanshou?" He knew only one prominent figure from Black Stone City. Chang Dong replied, "Something like that." Li Jin'aoo sighed with resentment: that old man was sharp-tongued, looked down on people, and when he wanted to see a grand museum, Zhao kept making difficulties—hadn't it been for Miss Liu Xi's intercession? Suddenly he remembered: after Miss Liu Xi had advocated on his behalf, Zhao Guanshou had looked visibly displeased. So, among Liu Xi's various grievances, there must have been some that stemmed from him as well? Li Jin'aoo felt uneasy, sensing his own lack of tact had burdened others: "Then... what would you like me to do? Just say what you need." Actually, he was quite puzzled—what good would little insects do? Wouldn’t it be better to have something like the Pillar of the Mountain River or the Pillar of the Four Seas, at least capable of warding off evil? But since Chang Dong had said, “Knowing too much might not be good for you,” he wasn’t at ease asking further questions. Li Jinao opened the stage box, took out a spare black cloth bag, and transferred a portion of the contents from the bag containing the little insects to Chang Dong: “Do you know how to use them?” Chang Dong honestly admitted he didn’t. He tightened the bag’s opening: “Will these insects fly around randomly?” Li Jinao blinked in surprise: “Insects? No, they’re not insects. These are scraps of skin left behind by the carving knife when the old Li family were shaping their shadow puppets!” He explained to Chang Dong: “The old Li family’s secret technique requires three rituals—first, when carving the human forms; second, when refining the eyebrows and eyes; and third, when the shadow puppets transform into three-dimensional figures. Thus, the skin flakes left behind during carving also gain spirit and can mimic movement and transformation, just like But it's no different from a chicken rib—worth keeping, yet not very useful. They keep it for us distant branches, after all. In short, they enjoy the meat while we just sip the broth. "Remember this: if you want to use it, do so within a sealed space. Don't let it go free." Chang Dong remained calm: "What's wrong? Isn't it expensive? Won't you lose a lot if you let it go?" Li Jinao quickly shook his head: "No, no, no. How could I possibly charge you? Here's the thing—once it's released, it simply vanishes and never returns." We've gotten so close, I don't mind telling you...” He blushed slightly. “I'm not young anymore, yet I've come out here on my own—mainly to make a name for myself, but also because I've gotten into trouble. Before, I was in charge of looking after these little insects. One day, I made a small oversight and lost a whole bag of them. I kept it a secret for a long time, but now I can't hide it anymore, so I found an excuse to leave. I thought once I had a solid career and a good position, people would just forget about it. But now—” Now, his situation is even more difficult than when he first left. Chang Dong nodded thoughtfully. “Where did those little insects go?” Li Jinao spread his hands. “I don't know. They're not like ordinary creatures—they don't need food or rest, and they don't tire out. With the wind, they ride it along; without wind, they drift slowly. As long as they have time, they can drift anywhere from a few thousand to tens of thousands of miles.” “Do you remember, when they first flew away, which direction they went?” Li Jin'ao recalled: "It was to the south. This thing flew so high that even when I jumped up, I couldn't reach it—I just watched it go southward." Chang Dong's heart pounded. To the south... On the map of the interior region, the southernmost point marked was Bogu Yajia, which was precisely the main gate of Yumen Pass. The shadow figures from the old Li family, blessed with a secret art, were destined for lifelong service—entering and exiting the pass. These small creatures, which were flakes of skin carved from the shadow figures, might have been affected by this secret art. Once freed from their constraints, they would tirelessly journey toward the vicinity of Bogu Yajia, lingering and waiting, constantly entering and exiting the pass. Could it be that the group of small creatures he and Ye Liuxi had accidentally discovered at first, were precisely those that Li Jin'ao had inadvertently let go? Then, by a series of fortunate circumstances, they made it through the passes. Li Jin'ao hurried out to "set out and explore," meeting her beneath the red flowering tree, each holding mutual suspicion, believing they were merely passing acquaintances—only to find out that their connection ran far deeper than they had imagined. With this realization, when he looked at Li Jin'ao again, he suddenly felt a sense of familiarity. Li Jin'ao, in turn, found him puzzling: "What's wrong?" Chang Dong replied: "Nothing much—just that it feels like we've truly been brought together by fate." Ye Liuxi wanted to sit up, but after struggling, couldn’t manage: “I’ve been crouching for too long—my muscles are compressed now, and my legs are numb. Please, let me rest a moment…” Chang Dong didn’t hesitate; he bent down, wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her: “No problem. Come on, let’s go outside and take a walk.” Ye Liuxi cried out: “No, no! Please, let me rest a moment…” It was too late—her leg, which had to be handled with care, was pulled and tugged, forcing her to land. The surge of relief rushing from her feet all the way up to her crown, made Ye Liuxi unable to stand; she leaned her head on Chang Dong’s chest, nearly crying. Chang Dong managed a smile: “Come on, the moonlight outside is lovely. Let’s walk a bit.” Ye Liuxi said: “My legs are still numb—I’ll need to wait a while…” Chang Dong replied: “No problem. I’ll support the old lady.” With one hand supporting her arm and the other cradling her waist, he walked her outside. After just two steps, Ye Liuxi Ye Liuxi sighed, "It's truly a pity when one's mobility fades." Unlike two days ago, when she had to rely on a cane due to a leg injury, this time she was watching a good leg gradually lose its strength. Chang Dong said, "Indeed, people often complain about having their legs taken away—only when the trouble hasn't struck them personally do they realize what it's like to be without legs." Ye Liuxi lowered her head and gently massaged her thigh. "Do you think, when we grow old and our mobility declines, who will be supporting whom? Will I be the one holding you up? After all, you're not very robust—you catch colds just from a breeze." She waited a moment, expecting a response, but saw none. Curious, she looked up. "Chang Dong?" Chang Dong came back to himself. The word 'old' initially sounded terrifying, but upon reflection, it felt surprisingly pleasant. People who develop wrinkles often gasp in alarm—yet that's simply the kindness of fate: each wrinkle on the face is a step further in life's journey. There are so many people in this world who stumble over obstacles and never reach the peace of a quiet, unbroken old Chang Dong said, "I don't know what you'll look like when you're older." Ye Liuxi replied, "I have a good sense of self-awareness. By then, I certainly can't compare with young girls in terms of looks. But among a group of older women, I believe I'd still stand out in terms of grace and presence." Chang Dong smiled and leaned down to kiss her lips. Indeed, he had a clear sense of self—knowing that when he grew older, beauty would no longer be the main factor; it would be about charm and character. ... Back at the tent, Fei Tang was already asleep. Chang Dong pulled the blanket to the back of the chair, turned on his flashlight, and reached into his bag to pull out the notebook tucked at the very bottom. He flipped to the most recent page, then turned back page by page, each one filled with dense, handwritten notes. Eventually, he reached the first page. The bright beam of the flashlight swept across the top margin of the notebook. There, three characters were written: To Liuxi. These days, whenever he thought of something, he wrote it down in the notebook. He had Now he realizes—he simply can't finish it. When she grows old, he wants to know what kind of elderly woman she'll become: what clothes she'll favor, what tastes she'll have, what hairstyle she'll prefer, whether her temperament will still be so domineering, whether she'll still give her juniors three-step instructions, or even what flowers will bloom in the courtyard. Yet all of that will no longer be his concern. The world is built by the living, and he—had already passed away two years ago. The living strive to survive, but the dead don't know how to fight for their lives. They only wish to use their fading bodies as boats, carrying everyone else to shore. Chang Dong buried his face in the volume. Fei Tang heard the movement, turned over, and in a half-drowsy state saw Chang Dong sitting there. He mumbled, "Dong, I've told Ah He. As long as it's tonight, just let her know what you need, and she'll take care of it. She said, preferably, don't let her kill anyone—anything else, she'll manage." After a long pause, Chang Dong finally replied, "Got it."