The night had already grown deep by the time Fu Sheng left Wei Meilan's house. The streets were quiet, and only the faint sound of dripping rainwater echoed through the narrow alleyways as he walked slowly beneath the dim lantern light. The rain had fully stopped, but the ground remained wet, carrying the cold scent of damp earth and soaked wood into the air.
Fu Sheng walked without rushing. For the first time in many years, his mind felt unusually heavy, not because of war or danger, but because of memories he thought had already disappeared long ago.
His footsteps slowed slightly as he moved through the empty streets. Wei Meilan's face still lingered in his mind, not the young girl he once knew in Wu Village and not the girl who used to wait near the river with flowers woven into her hair while smiling at him like he was the only person she could see.
No.
The woman he saw tonight was completely different.
