Morning came with sunlight streaming through thin white curtains and the smell of fresh steamed buns drifting through the air.
Birdsong echoed from the mango trees outside, and the village stirred awake — roosters crowing, bicycle bells ringing, someone laughing down the road.
Li Wei stretched, rubbing his eyes. Li Na was still buried under the blanket like a cocoon, and their parents' voices floated in faintly from the kitchen, where they were chatting with Auntie Liu.
He yawned and wandered outside, only to find Lin Yue waiting at the gate, already dressed and grinning like she had a secret.
"Good morning, city boy."
He blinked. "You're up early."
"Of course! You promised to see my village, remember?"
"I never promised—"
She grabbed his wrist before he could finish. "Too late. You're coming."
And just like that, he was dragged into another adventure.
They walked past rows of small houses painted in bright colors — pinks and blues faded by time, yet still full of warmth. The path was lined with banana trees, and the air carried the scent of wet earth after dawn's dew.
As they reached the open fields, the world suddenly widened.
Golden rice swayed under the morning sun like a restless sea. Far off, women in colorful scarves bent to harvest, their laughter floating across the air. A narrow canal wound through the fields, glimmering like a silver ribbon.
Li Wei stopped, quietly taking it in.He'd never seen something so… alive.
"It's beautiful," he said softly.
Lin Yue turned, smiling. "Told you the village isn't boring."
He kicked a pebble into the water. "Yeah… it's not."
They walked along the canal, their reflections trailing in the ripples. Butterflies danced over the grass, and dragonflies skimmed across the surface of the water.
At one point, Lin Yue picked a wildflower and tucked it behind her ear.
"You like flowers?" he asked.
She twirled the stem. "Of course. They don't ask for much — just sunlight and wind. But they make everything prettier."
He looked at her for a moment longer than he meant to, the way the sunlight caught her eyes and turned them the color of amber.
"Yeah," he murmured. "They do."
By afternoon, they reached a small roadside where the shade of tall gulmohar trees painted the ground with scattered petals. The wind was cool, carrying the faint scent of sugar and fried snacks from somewhere nearby.
"Wait here," Lin Yue said suddenly, stopping in front of him.
"Why?"
"Just wait!" she said, already darting off toward the village market. "Don't move!"
He sighed, sitting down by the road, resting his back against the tree trunk.
The breeze brushed through the leaves, soft and rhythmic, like the world was breathing. Sunlight filtered through the branches, dappling the dusty path in gold. Somewhere nearby, a bird sang lazily.
Time stretched. A few children cycled past, giggling. An old man with a basket nodded at him.
Li Wei leaned back, watching the horizon — the same dirt road curving into the distance where she'd disappeared. He didn't know why, but his chest felt oddly full, like waiting for something you don't understand but really want to.
And then — there she was.
Lin Yue came running down the road, her braids bouncing, clutching something wrapped in brown paper. The wind tugged at her dress as petals fluttered around her like confetti.
For a second, it looked like time slowed — her hair catching sunlight, laughter spilling from her lips, the sound of her sandals on the dusty road.
"See!" she shouted breathlessly when she reached him, holding up the package triumphantly. "I brought you something!"
He blinked, still a little dazed. "You… ran all that way?"
She grinned and opened the wrapper — inside were two golden laddus, still warm, smelling faintly of cardamom.
"I remembered last night," she said proudly. "You didn't get to eat one properly. So… here."
For a moment, Li Wei just looked at her — flushed cheeks, eyes bright with the kind of happiness that made even the wind feel slower.
He took one gently. "You came all the way back just for this?"
She shrugged, pretending not to care. "Don't overthink it. I just didn't want to owe you."
"Right," he said with a soft smile. "Of course."
They sat under the gulmohar trees, sharing the sweets in comfortable silence. The world around them buzzed softly — bees, the rustle of leaves, the distant hum of village life.
When he bit into the laddu, it melted sweet and warm, just like that strange flutter in his chest whenever she laughed.
Lin Yue leaned back on her hands, looking at the drifting clouds. "You'll forget this when you go back to your city."
Li Wei glanced at her. "Maybe not."
She turned her head slightly, meeting his eyes — and for that brief moment, neither looked away.
The breeze carried petals between them, landing on her shoulder, and he almost reached out before stopping himself.
Somehow, he knew this small moment — this dusty road, this golden afternoon, this girl — would stay with him long after he left.