LUO FAN

“Where are we going?” I asked Jinjing as I followed her along a narrow path surrounded by tall grasses.

That morning, after breakfast, she had invited me out for a walk. By now, it was nearly noon, and we should have been heading back to her house to prepare lunch. Instead, she had insisted on stopping here first.

“We’re here,” she said, coming to a halt.

I stopped as well. Though my vision offered nothing but shifting shades of dark and light, I turned my head instinctively, sensing the space around us. The rustling sound of leaves and the faint scent of bamboo brought a flicker of recognition.

“A bamboo forest?”

“Smart,” she replied, her voice laced with amusement.

“What are we doing here?”

“You broke your stick last night,” she said. “I’m getting you a new one.”

I heard the soft scrape of her shadow moving, the faint glint of a pointed object catching my attention. It wasn’t until I heard the rhythmic sound of chopping that my suspicion was confirmed.

“Why do you have a knife with you?” I asked, my tone sharpening.

“After last night, I’m worried those men might come back,” she replied, not looking at me. “I have to carry something to protect us.”

“You shouldn’t point a knife at anyone,” I said firmly. “It’s dangerous.”

“I will, if it’s necessary.”

“Do you even know how to use it?” I pressed. “Have you ever fought with a knife before?”

She paused, sighing heavily. “No.”

“Then don’t carry one. You could end up hurting yourself instead. If you’re ever in danger, don’t fight. Run. Carry something you can use to distract your attacker, something that’ll give you time to escape.”

“Like what?”

I hesitated. Growing up in the sheltered confines of Frost Mountain, I had never needed to think about self-defense in the outside world. Violence and bullying were rare in my sect. Even the sword I once carried was only for practice and ceremonial duels.

Then I remembered something a sect brother had shown me once. “I’ve seen a small object that produces smoke when you smash it against a hard surface. It can be used to obscure someone’s vision.”

“A smoke bomb?” she asked.

I nodded.

She laughed. “Those things aren’t cheap. Only the wealthy can afford them.”

“How much for one?”

“About three silver coins each.”

I fell silent. If I hadn’t lost my purse, I might have been able to buy her one.

“I can’t even earn that much in a month,” she added with a chuckle. “So let’s forget about it. Our best course of action is simple: don’t make enemies. The next time we’re in trouble, just run.”

Her words stung, but she wasn’t wrong. I had tried to avoid a fight with those drunkards last night, but I should have tried harder. We couldn’t afford to make enemies in a place like this. Pride was a luxury we couldn’t afford.

“My mistake,” I said, cupping my hands and bowing my head. “I’ll see to it that it doesn’t happen again.”

She giggled, her tone light and teasing. “You don’t have to be so formal with me.”

“You’re a woman,” I said earnestly. “I owe you my utmost courtesy.”

“Fine, fine,” she said, laughing again. “You’re too nice. Were you raised in a temple or something?”

I stiffened. Her question hit closer to home than she realized.

I didn’t want to hide anything from her, not after she had saved my life. But I didn’t want to remember my past, either.

Most of all, I didn’t want to talk about it.

I forced a faint smile, hoping she wouldn’t press further. To my relief, she let it go.

She pulled the freshly cut bamboo stick toward her and began chopping off the leaves with precision.

“I can probably do that,” I offered.

“No need,” she replied firmly. “This is my gift to you, so I should do all the work. I’ll make it clean and smooth so you won’t hurt your fingers.”

Her words struck a chord, and my heart tightened.

Who wouldn’t be moved by such kindness?

“That’s very kind of you,” I said softly.

“Because you’ve been good to me,” she said, her voice steady at first but growing quieter. “For a woman like me, most men only see filth. But you’re different. You see me as a person, as a woman, regardless of my past. You treat me with respect.”

She paused, and I heard the faint sound of a sniffle.

“Even though you can barely see, you brave the streets at night to pick me up from the brothel and make sure I get home safely. You even defended me from those drunkards.” Her voice trembled slightly. “It’s only fair that I repay your kindness. You’re the only man who’s been good to me. I’d almost forgotten what it felt like to be seen as a woman… until you reminded me. You’ve given me back a little self-worth I thought I’d lost forever.”

Her words filled me with pity, but also shame.

I didn’t feel I deserved her praise. Once, I had viewed women like her with disdain. In my naivety, I saw them as weak, as people who had succumbed to temptation and lost their way.

But I was young and ignorant then. I had no understanding of true suffering, of what it meant to be poor.

Though I owned little, I had never gone hungry. I always had a warm room and a comfortable bed. I had never worried about rent or necessities. Anything I needed, anything at all, was provided with a simple request.

The world outside Frost Mountain was a different story. Here, nothing was free. Everyone worked tirelessly just to survive, and even that wasn’t guaranteed. Some couldn’t afford three meals a day. Others couldn’t afford one.

I knew better now. These past two months living with Jinjing had taught me more than years of isolated comfort ever could.

“Here.”

Her voice broke through my thoughts. She extended the bamboo stick, its tip brushing my hand.

“See if it’s good enough for you,” she said.

I ran my fingers along its length, feeling the smoothness of the wood. It was flawless. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

“Wait,” she said, taking the stick back. “I’ll make it even more special.”

I couldn’t see what she was doing, but I could hear the soft rustle of fabric and the movement of her arms.

“There you go,” she said, handing the stick back to me. “That’s my favorite scarf, so take care of it.”

My fingers brushed the silk wrapped around the end of the stick. It was soft, luxurious—a material few commoners could afford. This scarf must have been precious to her.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I said gently. “It’s a waste of such good fabric.”

“It’s a gift,” she insisted. “It has to be special. If you refuse it, I’ll be offended.”

For a moment, I hesitated. She had done so much for me already, and I felt guilty for taking more. But I didn’t want to reject her generosity either.

“Thank you,” I said finally. “I’ll cherish it.”

“You’re welcome.”

Stepping closer, I wrapped my arms around her in a gentle hug. She stiffened for a moment, as if surprised, but then her hands lifted to stroke my back.

“Alright,” she said softly as I pulled away. “Let’s get out of here before the snakes find us.”

She took my wrist, guiding me out of the dense bamboo forest.

I felt an unexpected lightness within me. Though she held my hand, there was no malice, no tension—only a pure and innocent connection.

It felt as though I had gained a sister.

Over the past two months, the bond we had built had gradually smoothed away the awkwardness of living together. Each passing day only deepened our connection, turning strangers into something akin to family.