"May the Flame of the Holy Fire illuminate your path."
"May the Flame of the Holy Fire illuminate your path, brother—"
The merchant group arrived beneath the southern gate of Quistack, where the companions who traveled together parted ways and bid each other farewell.
A hand, dark-skinned and etched with intersecting wrinkles, extended slowly from beneath a robe, reaching out to Fang Hong—he was a bit startled as he looked up at the deeply lined face of the merchant group leader. The latter offered a faint smile: "Thank you for your assistance on the road, young man... This is your custom, isn't it? Although I'm not really familiar with it..."
Fang Hong paused for a moment, then smiled as well, shaking hands with the other. "It was just a small effort."
The old man withdrew his hand and turned around to gaze at the towering sand dunes in the distant dust, a touch of sentiment in his expression:
