In the heart of the dank, ancient cave, where shadows clung to the rough-hewn walls like memories etched in stone, three figures sat upon jagged rocks. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and secrets long buried.
Ah Xian, his eyes pools of moonlight, traced the rim of his chipped cup. "Who told him to stay without me?" His voice was a mere whisper, lost in the cavern's depths. "Can't he just go back to His Majesty's place if he misses me?" The flicker of the lantern cast fleeting silhouettes on the uneven floor.
Jietou Sheyao, his scarred face half-hidden in the shadows, leaned forward. "I don't know," he grumbled. "See it yourself. Going there and asking him what's going on in his mind might yield answers. But he doesn't share them willingly."