Konghai sometimes wondered if he had done the right thing to run away with Yulan, which led to her early death. But one look at his daughter drove away all doubt. Mingyue was a dutiful and obedient daughter, heeding most if not all of the lessons he taught her. Though they lived off of the land with limited contact with people in town, Konghai taught her all he knew about fighting as a monk. Not only did it help protect her, but from time to time, especially during holidays, Konghai would take her to town to perform their art for tips. The extra income allowed Konghai to buy his daughter small toys and trinkets he saw her covet. The remainder he put away for when he became too old to earn such a living.
One night, a traveling priestess who had missed the town, requested lodging for the night. Mingyue was excited over the guest and did her best to accommodate. Over bread and vegetable stew, she eagerly asked the young priestess, Kyoko, about her travels and the world beyond. Konghai had to remind her not to keep their guest up too late to satisfy her own curiosity. Looking at his eighteen year old fledgling, he knew it was time for her first flight. Konghai emptied his savings, 9 platnum, 4 gold, and 3 silver coins, into a pouch for Mingyue to take along on her first adventure. While she chattered with the priestess at the table, he packed her a backpack with a bedroll, his old siangham, a dagger, her winter blanket, a sturdy 10ft hemp rope, soap, a waterskin, an empty sack, a belt pouch, and a package of preserved vegetables with some bread. Before they went to bed, Konghai asked the priestess to take Mingyue on her travels. After all, what better traveling companion for a first flight than a priestess healer. Mingyue, at hearing the news, was estatic and hardly able to close her eyes all night.
The next morning, Konghai felt a mix of pride and apprehension as he watched his five foot tall daughter, dressed in her finest clothes, take her first steps into the outside world. Small floral patterns against a bright pink cloth was what she had chosen for a gift on her eighteenth birthday. It was enough to make both a fitted top and the calf length loose pants that were both fashionable and sensible. After all, working in the fields tended to make anything beneath ones calves mud-covered. With some lilac silk, Mingyue had trimmed her pants and made a small matching wrap to make the outfit more feminine and formal so that when the occasion arose, she would have something nice to wear. As was her habit, she had on all the trinkets he ever bought her, as well as the only tangible items she had left of her mother's, a pair of gold earrings. The rest of her jewelry were made of other, less precious, materials: a thick bronze anklet on her right ankle, three thin silver bracelets on her left wrist, and a simple bronze arm bracelet clasped to her upper left arm. Mingyue had swept half of her dark brown hair up while letting the other half to flow freely past her shoulders. She held the upper half of her hair together with several throwing darts that were more than just decorative if she needed them to be. To complete her look, Mingyue selected several of the flowers in bloom from the garden and placed them in her hair. She had always been fond of flowers and would often chide Konghai for not naming her after one. Konghai never told her the reason he did not give her a flowery name like the one her mother had but chose to name her after the moon. Flowers were fragile and could wither and die, but the moon always hung in the sky.