Xu Liang was running, his feet pounding the earth beneath him as he darted out of the family garden, leaving behind the carefully pruned trees and sculpted stones. His breath came in ragged gasps, his mind swirling in turmoil. 
His planned going to the Lotus Garden felt like a vague memory now, overshadowed by his hurried departure. His thoughts were so heavy, he had even forgotten to take a horse.
In his haste, Xu hadn’t noticed how far he had come. When he finally paused to look back, the grand mansion—his family's fu—was almost five kilometers away, a distant silhouette against the setting sun. 
The distance should have brought some relief, but instead, it only deepened the feeling of weight pressing on his chest. Though his legs carried him effortlessly, his mind was burdened, each thought heavier than the last.
He wanted to run until he could no longer breathe, until the world around him blurred and faded. He didn't care about the dangers lurking in the countryside—bandits, wild animals, or even enemies of his family. 
Let them come, he thought. Let them find me and take me away. At least then, I won't have to face the suffocating expectations waiting back home.
The sun bore down on him, hot and relentless, but Xu barely felt it. His mind was too occupied, tangled in thoughts of Jiao Ming, the marriage he did not want, and the secret that no one could ever know. 
Soon, the sun would dip beneath the horizon, casting the countryside in cool twilight, and yet he still had no desire to return home. 
He longed to go west, to the Lotus Garden, but even that seemed futile now. Instead, he just kept walking, driven by some force inside him that refused to be stilled. 
It was strange to be out here, beyond the walls of his family's fu, beyond the room of a life that had been controlled and arranged for him since birth. 
As a child, Xu had rarely been allowed to venture out into the countryside. He had grown up sheltered, kept away from the fields and the common folk. And now, seeing the sprawling farmlands and the labor of farmers, he felt an unfamiliar pang in his chest. 
This simple, rough life—so different from his own—seemed more real, more authentic. Bitterness rose in his throat as he thought of his luxurious life, cushioned by wealth and privilege, but devoid of the freedom he so desperately craved.
His thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the sound of hooves approaching, cutting through the stillness of the countryside. Xu glanced up and saw a rider approaching swiftly, the uniform unmistakable—it was one of his family’s personal guards, a Shìwèi. The horse slowed as it neared, and the rider dismounted with a practiced grace, bowing deeply before Xu.
"Master Xu," the Shìwèi began, his voice respectful but tinged with concern, "why are you out here alone? Your father, Master Shun, has been looking for you. He asked me to find you and escort you back to the mansion. Mr. Zhou Ming and his daughter are waiting for you."
Xu’s jaw tightened, irritation flashing across his face. He had known this would happen eventually. His father’s control was suffocating, reaching even beyond the walls of their home. "I did not ask to be followed," Xu said coolly, his voice sharp with a frustration he could no longer hide. "The Shìwèi are meant to protect, not intrude on private matters."
"Master Shun’s orders were clear," the guard replied. "He was concerned when you were not found in your quarters. He asked me to bring you back immediately."
"Concerned," Xu muttered under his breath, more to himself than the guard. "He is only concerned with appearances and alliances. This is not about my well-being."
The Shìwèi stood still, awaiting further instruction. "Master Xu, your father has arranged for you to meet Jiao Ming. The families are counting on this union."
A bitter smile played on Xu’s lips. "Of course, they are. The families, the alliances, the business. It’s never about what I want. Always about duty." He sighed, rubbing his temples as if trying to push the thoughts away. "Return to my father and tell him I am heading to the Lotus Garden. I will return later."
The Shìwèi hesitated, clearly conflicted. "But Master Xu—"
"I said, go," Xu interrupted, his voice firm. "Tell my father I will be back when I’m ready. You have my permission to leave."
For a moment, the guard looked as though he might argue, but he simply bowed his head. "By your leave, Master Xu." He turned, preparing to remount his horse.
"Wait," Xu called after him. "Leave the horse. I’ll need it for the journey."
Without protest, the Shìwèi handed the reins over to Xu, bowing once more before mounting the spare horse he had tethered nearby and riding off. Xu watched him go, feeling a momentary flicker of guilt. The guard was just following orders, after all.
But guilt quickly faded as he climbed onto the horse, feeling the animal shift beneath him. He dug his heels gently into its sides, urging it forward. 
As the horse began to gallop, the wind whipping through his hair, Xu could feel the weight of the world slipping away, if only for a little while. But even as the countryside blurred past him, he knew that eventually, he would have to return. And when he did, the expectations, the marriage, and the suffocating reality of his life would still be waiting.