Having left the Zuixian Pavilion, Yan Qing walked ahead, with Shen Ping'an following step by step behind him. The night breeze blew gently, and Shen Ping'an choked on the wind, coughing after every few steps.
After walking for a while, Yan Qing looked back at him, "Do you feel unwell? Can you still walk?"
Shen Ping'an said softly, "I'm a bit uncomfortable, but I can walk."
Yan Qing nodded and turned back to continue walking, "If you can't walk, just say so. Don't force yourself."
Shen Ping'an responded with a sound.
The streets at night were very quiet. As usual, Yan Qing walked while idly kicking stones, which rolled and clacked with each kick. His shadow was long, and without seeming to use much effort, the stones he flicked with his toes travelled a good distance, neatly stopping right in front of him, waiting for him to walk up and kick them again.
