Fen could feel the ache in her heart reverberate against her chest cavity at the mention of Yunxu’s grandfather. However, it had not been for the loss of what had been; instead, it was the shared understanding that what had been would never come again. Fen hoped, for Yunxu’s sake, that his grandfather would be blessed by the Celestial Dragon as his grandchild was and be brought here just as they were.

That would be ideal.

However, not even she could change the will of the Gods, and for whatever reason, Yunxu was brought here. Alone. And perhaps that was what fate had planned for him, and there would be nothing that she or they could do to change it.

A sobering thought, and one that left Fen silent for a few passing beats.

I will keep an eye out, She murmured in the wake of his words. Even if she did not know what Yunxu’s grandfather looked like, she was sure it would not be hard to spot him. She just needed to follow the scent of the sea and look for a grumpier-looking Yunxu.

However, even as she thought of it, Fen’s mind trailed elsewhere. Briefly, and no longer than a passing beat of her heart, but she wondered what Yunxu remembered. Had he been like her? Carried here through the sandy waves of sleep? Or had his awakening been…more abrupt than her own? What had that been like?

Some thoughts, she knew, were better to be thought than voiced. And so the princess remained quiet, keeping those questions under lock and key, as her smile returned to her features.

Then it is a deal, Jiang Yunxu, she exclaimed through an air of formality, but lathered in the tone of someone who was having fun, We will learn how to read the fish together. It was said as though Fen had just signed the pair of them to some large and drawn-out adventure; even if Yunxu was unwilling, he was undoubtedly a part of it now.

When the topic of hunting fish had flourished past their teeth, Fen smiled in the shadow of his words as she stared at the rippling surface of the water. Though she had never tried before, she grew curious about the way the fish swam beneath the surface—swiftly within the current and agile within the stream—Yunxu’s words made sense.

She would never be able to swim as fast as a fish.

But ah—he spoke of patience, and for a moment, she flashed him a quick, disheartened look. Fen’s patience was as short as a struck match, in the sheer fact that she rarely had one. Patience, She echoed beneath her breath, as her attention returned to the water. Patience is bitter, but its fruit can be sweet, She whispered beneath her breath, as if those words could be her steady reminder.

Patience was far from one of her aforementioned skills or specialities; however, if she could find restraint within her secret sparring lessons, surely, she could find the time and will to sit and watch the fish.

Right?

She twisted her gaze back toward the fish, toward the rotting tree beneath her feet, and the water that now swayed in the distance. Her ears turned toward the sound of Yunxu’s voice, and where she could, Fen absorbed what knowledge she could consume.

Fish could be found in branches. Scared of predators. Shallows are good, and rapids are good. Bait them with food, fish like food, and things that look like bugs.

She could remember all of that.

Fen threw a glance in his direction, a smile written like wine across her lips as she all but squealed with unfettered excitement. She didn’t. But she wanted to.

Oh, yes, please. She agreed, as her head dipped in quick succession. She moved like the water this time as she squeezed around him, this time careful not to graze her side along his own, as she situated herself by the shallows.

She didn’t mind when the water touched her toes; instead, she welcomed it as she stood, green gaze thrown toward Yunxu. Good luck, She offered with a smile.