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The next morning.
When Guo Qin stirred, the boy had stopped drawing. He now sat quietly at the edge of the cliff, bathed in morning light, gazing out into the distance. His eyes held a kind of ancient sorrow, a depth far beyond his years.
She stood and walked over, then glanced down at the stick figures he’d drawn.
After a moment of studying them, she let out a soft exclamation of surprise. “Huh?”
The boy didn’t turn around. “After watching your Skygale Sword Style last night, I realized something. It turns out the footwork of my family’s art was always meant to pair with the Skygale sword forms. You should try blending the two.”
“Mhmm.” Guo Qin quietly replied, utterly captivated by what she saw.
Li Yuan stood up and, in no time at all, had caught a few wild rabbits. With practiced ease, he skinned them, rinsed them in a mountain spring, and brought them back to the cliffside to roast over the fire.
The aroma drifted over, and Guo Qin’s stomach betrayed her with a loud grumble. She turned her head and saw the golden-brown rabbits sizzling over the flames, and couldn’t help but swallow hard.
Li Yuan handed her two skewers of freshly roasted meat.
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