The first time Xiang Shao saw Linglong, it seemed to be summer. He was practicing martial arts in the courtyard when he spotted his uncle bringing in someone about his age from a distance.
His uncle said her name was Linglong, and from then on she would practice martial arts and study military strategy alongside him.
Everyone said Linglong was a prodigy, but it was a shame she was a girl.
Xiang Shao scoffed at that. He turned to look beneath the row of bamboo and cypress trees and saw Linglong practicing her moves with a wooden sword, wholly absorbed in what she was doing.
She seemed to sense his gaze. She stopped and looked over timidly.
Xiang Shao clicked his tongue, thinking, She’s just a little girl.
Linglong had never known who she was. As far back as she could remember, the proud and heroic young man had always been at her side.
They had once lain together beneath the covered walkway, gazing at the stars. Xiang Shao had told her that, amid the chaos of the age, he would restore peace and order.
Linglong turned her head toward him. In the young man beside her, the stars of the sky seemed to shine brightly in his eyes. She made a silent wish: to walk beside him along that dark, rugged road.
But later, when the young man came of age, he was valiant, heroic, and full of confidence. At his side stood a beautiful woman, radiant as a peach blossom in spring.
Whenever Linglong met Xiang Shao’s absent-minded gaze, she realized she couldn’t let go. Even if she could only be the sharpest sword in his hand, or the most useful piece on the board beneath his wing, she still wanted to walk with him all the way to the end of that road.
