Chapter 2: The unknown Stranger
The village settled into quiet after the festival, lanterns flickering like distant stars against the darkened sky. Yùlíng found herself returning to the shrine, drawn by an inexplicable sense that something unseen was waiting for her there.
She sat on the stone steps, clutching a small wooden charm her mother had given her before passing. The charm was worn, but it still held the warmth of her mother's touch. Memories flooded her mind—laughter, gentle words, promises of safety that now felt distant as a dream.
A gentle rustling broke her thoughts. She looked up to see Zhēngfēng approaching again, carrying a small bundle wrapped in cloth.
"I brought something for you," he said softly, holding out the bundle.
Yùlíng hesitated before accepting it. Unwrapping the cloth revealed a delicate paper crane, folded with careful precision. She looked up at him, surprised.
"It's a tradition," Zhēngfēng explained. "To send your wishes on the wind."
She traced the folded edges with a finger, feeling the weight of his gesture. For a moment, silence stretched between them, filled only with the gentle sigh of the wind.
"Why are you here?" she finally asked.
He looked away, eyes clouded with something unspoken. "I don't remember… everything. I only know I came here because I felt I was supposed to."
Yùlíng's brow furrowed. "Do you believe in fate?"
He paused. "Sometimes. Sometimes not."
She nodded slowly, clutching the crane tight in her hand. "Many things are lost in time. Memories, loved ones… even ourselves."
Zhēngfēng looked at her, a flicker of understanding passing through his gaze. "Maybe we're both searching for something that's gone."
Yùlíng looked down at her lap, the paper crane trembling slightly. "Sometimes I wonder if there's anything left worth holding onto."
He stepped closer, voice gentle. "Maybe you just need to look a little harder."
The wind shifted, carrying away a handful of fallen leaves. In that moment, the two stood silently under the vast, empty sky, feeling the weight of unspoken truths and shared pain.
As the night deepened, Yùlíng thought of the fragile hope that lingered in her heart—hope that maybe, just maybe, she wasn't alone in her darkness.