Pei Yuhang held Qing Yueqiu's hand, feeling a cold wind laced with ice crystals and snowflakes greet them from afar.
"Master, we're almost home."
As Qing Yueqiu spoke, the small hand tightly gripping Pei Yuhang's gently let go.
Pei Yuhang felt the girl's soft, delicate hand slowly withdraw from his palm.
He looked up at Qing Yueqiu, but she did not meet his gaze.
"Master, you should go back and see the Mistress. I'll head back first to put my things away."
Without giving Pei Yuhang a chance to reply, the silver-haired girl leaped gracefully. Swift as a swallow, she rose into the air with Sword Control.
Under the sunlight, her flowing silver hair shimmered brightly. Her figure quickly receded into the wind and snow, leaving only a faint, silvery afterimage that vanished in an instant, like a wisp of smoke.
Pei Yuhang stood rooted to the spot, gazing in the direction she had gone. A wave of complex emotions washed over him, for he now understood his beloved disciple's feelings.
