The Paths Of Fate.

Two paths lay before her. One led to danger; the other to despair.

The first path was to follow the Marquess and his men; to face them again and reclaim what was hers. But Ying Lan knew this path was laden with danger; they would not greet her warmly; not after she had dared to press a dagger to the Marquess daughter's neck.

The second path was to turn back; to return to Jiao city; to forget about the pendant.

Ying Lan had always worn the pendant with the hope that someone; someday; would recognize it; recognize her. And to abandon it was to abandon that hope; to abandon the only thing that linked her to her forgotten past; to her true identity; to her family.

No. That she could not do.

She touched her chest, feeling a small lump under the wet robe: her silver purse. She always made sure it was well fastened and would not be lost no matter what trouble she encountered.

She started to walk forward, following the marquess's trail. She could feel it now: the hunger that gnawed at her stomach, the fatigue that weighed down her limbs, the cold that seeped into her bones - the sun had done little to dry her robes.

She would stop at the first village she came across; she would buy some food and new clothes; then she would ask for directions to the temple; she had heard it was on a mountain peak, days away from here. She would need a horse to get there faster, but her silver was not enough to afford one. But maybe she will come across a big fish who wouldn't shed tears over a stolen horse.