“My friend,” Xie Lian shifted his position on the straw-filled cart, getting a better look at Anon. He smiled gently in greeting. “What are you doing here? Are you heading to the Puqi Village as well?”

The deep red maple leaves flew in the autumn wind, some of them landing on the wood and in the straw. The warm scene gave an image of peacefulness, if one ignored the rickety oxcart bumping against the uneven road. The sky was still bright; there was no hurry. After all, Xie Lian had no place to go. He only hoped to find somewhere to settle, so striking conversation with the youth sitting next to him would hopefully help him make some friends.

Xie Lian tilted his head, watching Anon open his eyes and blink at him.