Little Pink Starfish

Someone You Can Never Forget in This Lifetime

After blowing up the kitchen, confessing her “crime” to her Little Gu, chatting with the three Gu brothers and their mother, eavesdropping from behind a wall, talking with the chubby Miss Zhao, and waiting for her to get dressed—by the time Yu Xiaoxiao finally left the Gu residence, it was already midday.

Jing Mo and Wuhuan were waiting beside the official road outside Fengjing’s North Gate. Wuhuan sat in the carriage, glanced up at the sky through the window, and quietly said to Jing Mo, “It’s getting late. We should head out.”

Jing Mo stared at the northern city gate of Fengtian, remaining silent for a long while.

“She said she’d go to Zhuri one day,” Wuhuan reminded gently. “We’ll meet again.”

Jing Mo murmured, “What if something happened in the city again?”

Wuhuan glanced toward the attendants standing off in the distance.

Leaning against the carriage window, Jing Mo stared at Fengjing’s gates. “What do you think Mo Wen will do next?”

Wuhuan was silent for a moment before saying quietly, “If I’ll be a burden to you, it might be better if we part ways now.”

Jing Mo straightened, looked at Wuhuan’s wooden-masked face for a few beats, then burst into a chuckle. “If I dare travel with the Grand Diviner himself, you think I’m scared of a little burden?”

Wuhuan’s expression was hidden beneath the mask—unreadable.

Jing Mo looked up at the sky, then at Yu Ziming’s carriage. With a flick of his whip, he gave the command, “Let’s move.”

The guards mounted their horses, ready to depart.

Jing Mo, however, didn’t immediately mount. Instead, he walked to Yu Ziming’s carriage window and called, “Sixth Highness.”

Yu Ziming’s chubby face popped into view, and he called sweetly, “Brother Jing!”

“We’re setting off now,” Jing Mo patted the little prince’s soft cheek and whispered, “I’ll be right ahead of you. If anything happens, just call me—loudly. Got it?”

Yu Ziming nodded earnestly. “Got it.”

Jing Mo swept his eyes across the servants accompanying Yu Ziming.

Not just the attendants—even the two older women inside the carriage were all visibly cautious and respectful. Yu Ziming might be too young to understand, but these people clearly heard Jing Mo’s veiled warning: Serve the sixth prince well.

“Sit tight,” Jing Mo said gently.

Yu Ziming sat up straight. Jing Mo had taken him to the palace earlier to bid farewell to the emperor, and the emperor had also told him to listen to Jing Mo. With both his father and big sister saying the same thing, for this three-year-old, Jing Mo had become his entire sense of security.

After closing the carriage window, Jing Mo returned to his horse, mounted it, and was just about to give the signal to move when—

“Jing Mo!”

The whole procession halted again.

Just as he turned, Yu Xiaoxiao came running up in front of his horse, pressing a hand to her chest as she caught her breath. “Whew, just made it!”

Jing Mo dismounted, and there she stood—hair in a simple bun, no jewelry, cheeks flushed from running. It looked like someone had gently dusted her face with rouge. “You ran all the way here?” he asked with a smile.

“Yup,” Yu Xiaoxiao replied.

“Why not ride a horse?”

“Pfft,” she said, “A horse’s not faster than me.”

Jing Mo chuckled, nodding. “Princess’s martial skills are peerless.”

“Haha,” Yu Xiaoxiao grinned. “But we must never be arrogant.”

Jing Mo smiled deeper. “Sincerely said.”

Yu Xiaoxiao nodded. “You should smile more often. And if you really can’t smile, then don’t force it.”

“Okay.”

She shoved a cloth bundle into his hands. “Here’s a gift.”

“What is it?” Jing Mo asked.

“Dried meat,” she announced boldly. “I bought it on my way over. It’s perfect for rations. Only eat it when you’ve got nothing else—it’s for saving your life.”

The guards from Zhuri…

They hadn’t even left yet, and Princess Linglong was already cursing them to face life-threatening situations on the road. Was she really an ally of their prince?

Jing Mo wasn’t offended. The last time she “generously” gifted him a few red bean buns. This time, she’d already outdone herself.

“Where’s Wuhuan?” Yu Xiaoxiao asked in a low voice, eyeing the second bundle on her back.

Jing Mo pointed to the carriage where Wuhuan sat. “Is that one also meat?”

“Nope,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s soft cakes.” With Wuhuan’s half-ruined teeth, giving him jerky would be torture—soft cakes were way more suitable for her friend.

Just then, Wuhuan opened his carriage window as Yu Xiaoxiao approached.

She shoved the bundle in. “Here, for the road. For emergencies.”

“Thank you, Princess,” Wuhuan replied.

“It was cheap,” Yu Xiaoxiao waved off his thanks. “When I get to Zhuri, I’ll treat your injury. But for now, you’re too weak. I’m afraid your body can’t handle surgery.”

Wuhuan didn’t really care if the wounds on his face could be treated. The pain had been with him for years—he was used to it. Still, he asked, “Princess, will you really come to Zhuri?”

“I will,” Yu Xiaoxiao said. “When Little Gu is healed, we’ll come find you and Jing Mo.”

“Alright,” Wuhuan said. “Then it’s a promise.”

“Absolutely.” Yu Xiaoxiao reached out and patted the back of his hand. “We clapped hands, so it counts. You’d better be there waiting for me.”

Wuhuan smiled beneath his mask and agreed.

“Big Royal Sis!” Yu Ziming’s voice called from inside his carriage.

Yu Xiaoxiao ran over, scooped the little prince up into her arms, and awkwardly fished out a pack of candy from her pocket. “Here, take it. If it’s not enough, ask Jing Mo.”

Yu Ziming’s eyes were already teary. “Big Sister, you’ll come get me, right?”

“I promise,” Yu Xiaoxiao said seriously. “Today I’m sending you off. When you grow up, I’ll go to Zhuri to bring you home.”

“You’re not lying?”

“I never lie.”

The little beanpole of a prince leaned forward and kissed her cheek. With teary eyes, he said, “Big Sister, goodbye.”

Yu Xiaoxiao placed him back into the carriage, bent down and gave him a kiss in return. “Study hard, train well—only then will you grow into a real man. When I see you again, you better be one.”

“Mm!” Yu Ziming wiped his tears and promised.

Jing Mo mounted his horse again. With a command, the convoy moved forward.

From atop his horse, he looked back and saw her—Yu Xiaoxiao, bare-faced, standing alone by the road, waving farewell. The autumn wind lifted her skirts and tossed her loose hair. In that moment, Jing Mo thought—

I might never be able to forget her for the rest of my life.