The morning after the fireflies was always different. The world seemed sharper, the colours more vibrant, as if Hanni's eyes had been washed clean by the magical light. She moved through her opening duties at the Jade Dragon Teahouse with a serene smile, the memory of the swirling lights still playing behind her eyes.
The usual crowd trickled in. Old Man Feng was already there, sipping his tea and reading a well-worn newspaper. Mrs. Lin arrived not long after, her eyes sparkling with news even before she'd taken a seat.
"Well, have you heard?" she announced, her voice carrying easily across the quiet room. She didn't wait for an answer. "Old Wei, from the far side of the valley? His nephew has arrived. Came just last night."
Hanni's grandmother looked up from her knitting, her interest piqued. "Old Wei's nephew? I didn't know he had any family left who would visit."
"That's just it!" Mrs. Lin said, leaning forward conspiratorially. "He's not just visiting. He's come to stay! To help Old Wei, they say. The old man's been so frail since the winter, barely able to tend his vegetable patch. It seems the boy has come to look after him."
Hanni continued wiping down a table, only half-listening. Village news was a constant, gentle stream.
"What's he like?" her grandmother asked, giving the gossip the attention Mrs. Lin felt it deserved.
"Oh, young! Maybe Hanni's age," Mrs. Lin said, glancing over at her. "Tall, I heard. Handsome, too. Quite the serious look about him, from what Chen's boy said. He helped carry their supplies from the market truck last evening."
A faint, distant bell of recognition chimed in Hanni's mind. Old Wei… a nephew… her age. She shook her head slightly. It was a common story; a young person returning to help family. It was her own story, after all.
The bell over the teahouse door jingled, and the postman came in, shaking water from his cap. "Morning all. More rain on the way, I think." He handed Hanni a small bundle of letters. "Oh, and I saw him this morning," he added, joining the conversation seamlessly. "Old Wei's nephew. Walking up by the eastern ridge. Seems strong. Quiet, though. Just nodded when I said good morning."
"What's his name?" Hanni's grandmother asked.
The postman frowned. "You know, I didn't catch it. Something short. Kai, maybe? Sounded like that."
The bell in Hanni's mind wasn't faint anymore. It rang, clear and startling.
Kai.
A name from another lifetime. A name from university. Kai. It couldn't be. It was a common name. But Old Wei's nephew… Kai had once mentioned, in a passing conversation during a study group, an uncle who lived in a remote village, who grew his own tea. Hanni had been too shy to say that her family owned a teahouse, too intimidated by the boy everyone whispered about.
Kai. He wasn't just a handsome boy. At university, he had been the boy. With his intense dark eyes, his easy confidence, and a smile that seemed to transform his entire serious demeanor, he had been the secret crush of half her class. He was known for his brilliant, quiet focus in their business lectures, a world away from the gentle rhythms of Yuehua.
Her face felt suddenly warm. She turned away, busying herself with arranging teacups that were already perfectly arranged.
"Are you alright, dear?" her grandmother asked, her perceptive eyes missing little. "You've gone quite pink."
"It's warm by the stove," Hanni mumbled, fanning her face with a cloth.
The rest of the day passed in a blur. The image of Kai—the university Kai—kept superimposing itself onto the vague description of a tall, serious boy walking the misty eastern ridge. It was absurd. The chances were minuscule. The city was a vast, crowded place, and this was her tiny, hidden corner of the world.
Yet, the possibility took root and bloomed, sending a nervous energy through her that was entirely at odds with the teahouse's tranquility.
That evening, after closing, the pull to the clearing was even stronger. She needed the peace of the fireflies. She needed to quiet the sudden, disconcerting flutter in her stomach. She told her grandmother she was going for a walk and once again took the jar from its cupboard.
The path was familiar, but her mind was not. Instead of emptying her thoughts, she filled them with memories of lectures hall, of a tall figure leaning against a library bookshelf, of a laugh she'd only heard from a distance.
She reached the clearing and sat, the jar beside her. The first fireflies appeared, their gentle pulses beginning to light the dusk. But tonight, her quiet heart was elusive.
A twig snapped somewhere behind her.
Hanni froze, her breath catching. It was probably just a pheasant or a wandering dog. But the sound came again, closer. A footstep. Someone was there.
She turned slowly, her heart hammering against her ribs.
A figure emerged from the shadowy line of bamboo trees. He was tall, just as Mrs. Lin had said, dressed in simple, dark trousers and a jacket. The fading light caught the sharp line of his jaw, the tousled dark hair.
He stopped at the edge of the clearing, as surprised to see her as she was to see him. For a long moment, they just stared at each other across the darkening grass.
And then, as a swarm of fireflies rose between them, illuminating his features in soft, intermittent flashes, Hanni's world tilted.
The serious dark eyes. The confident stance. It was him.
Recognition dawned on his face a second later, his brows drawing together in a slight, confused frown. He took a hesitant step forward.
"Hanni?" His voice was deeper than she remembered, but it was the same. It was Kai.