But time cannot be reversed; what’s missed is missed forever.

Qin Jun returned sulkily to the mansion. Fulun noticed his master seemed different from usual and asked, “Master, are you feeling sad about the parting?”

Qin Jun shook his head and scoffed, “It’s just… I feel pity for those who judge by appearances. How to put it? I feel regret.”

Fulun smiled, “Oh, such a trivial thing. Why dwell on it, Master? You and he are separate individuals. If it’s no big deal, just go your separate ways later.”

Qin Jun chuckled, “That’s quite elegant. But we’ll cross paths again—who wouldn’t, with my troublesome little sister?”

Qin Jun sat on a chair. Fulun poured him a cup of tea.

Qin Jun asked, “Enough of that. Fulun, is anything else needed for the journey?”

Fulun nodded, “Almost ready. Besides, Master, you can craft comforts anytime you want.”

Qin Jun rolled his eyes, “My forging skill looks simple but is hard. Know the key part?”

Fulun was intrigued. He’d seen this magic often but never grasped its principle. Qin Jun bringing it up thrilled him.

Qin Jun chuckled, “The key is imagination. Get it? You must imagine it first to create it. Imagination is tough.”

Hearing this, even patient Fulun nearly wanted to beat Qin Jun. Only the slave contract held him back.

Fulun forced a smile, “Indeed. Imagination peaks in childhood.”

Qin Jun nodded firmly, “Exactly.”

Qin Jun truly found imagination hard—he was practical. Practical folks dismiss such things.

In this world, practical people aren’t rare.

Qin Jun added, “We leave tonight. Plans are set. We’ll head north, travel slow. Might find your young mistress someday. Mind the pace?”

He looked at Fulun.

Fulun showed no expression. “Your intention matters, Master. When I became your slave, I knew my mistress’s fate is unknown—likely gone. It’s just a hope. You promised help, so I agreed. Now I’m your slave; the rest rests on your word.”

Qin Jun laughed heartily, “Fulun, Fulun—you really know how to talk.”

Qin Jun waved him off. Fulun left.

Qin Jun did want to help find the mistress—he’d just teased Fulun to see his reaction. He hadn’t expected such eloquence: Fulun voiced his feelings, then used Qin Jun’s promise to pressure him, making him awkward and countering the slow search.

Hmm. Qin Jun decided: leave now. *No Fulun. Alone is freer. Why keep a servant? What was I thinking back then?*

His past life’s poverty fears had made him crave a tycoon’s life. But he’d grown used to freedom; managing people was troublesome.

He gazed at the azure sky. Free as a bird under endless blue, he left. A note for Fulun lay behind—he’d see it. It ordered Fulun to guard the little ones well. Five bracelets rested there, identical to Fili’s, with usage instructions.