"Xie. Luo. He."
Xie Luohe repeated her name, one syllable at a time.
...
Zheng Xiu walked through the streets. The festive atmosphere from yesterday had yet to fade.
He heard that Xie Yunliu had left early in the morning without saying goodbye.
Four young women from the Great Desert had stood guard at the valley entrance, weeping so pitifully toward the desert that the sky and earth seemed to change color.
'What a Playful Monk. Romps through a field of four flowers, then pulls up his pants and leaves without a care.'
Zheng Xiu was filled with emotion when he heard about it.
As he passed through the center of Richan Town, the Golden Cicada atop the monument glittered under the noon sun. The reflected golden light made Zheng Xiu take a second look.
Back home, Zheng Xiu looked up at his small, dilapidated courtyard, a strange and complex melancholy washing over him.
The two little camels, Xiaohe and Xiaomo, had been lying by the gate all night.
