That evening, Shi Mu lit her incense again.
Not for protection this time.
For invitation.
She sat cross-legged on the floor, windows open just enough to let the night air swirl through the room. The scent of sandalwood drifted upward in slow, curling ribbons.
A whisper of warmth.A thread of memory.
And something… else.
The flame flickered.The smoke shifted.
Then—
A shape formed.
Not solid.Not shadow.
Something in between.
Shi Mu stayed still.
Eyes open.Heart calm.
The shape hovered near the threshold of her room. Not stepping in. Not stepping out. Hovering like it was afraid of being named.
It looked small.
Child-sized.
Then a whisper.
Not in words.
In feeling.
Loneliness.Abandonment.Soft hands once held, now gone.
Shi Mu's voice was steady. "You can come closer. I won't hurt you."
The figure didn't move.
But the smoke curled inward—not fleeing, but folding.
"I won't bind you," she said."I just want to know who you are."
A pause.
Then the smoke twisted again—forming a single word in the air:
"Ying."
[System Notification]
Spirit Name Detected – Ying (Fragmented Memory)
Emotion Type: Residual Grief / Child Loss
Form Stability: Low
Witness Path: Authorized
Brotherhood Value +290 (Spirit Trust Initiated + Name Offered Without Force)
Current Total: 13,510 / 1,000,000
Shi Mu reached out, slowly.
Not to touch.
Just to let the air know—
she was still there.
"Ying," she repeated gently.
The smoke quivered.
Then, barely a whisper from the haze:
"I waited…"
Shi Mu's eyes softened.
"I know."
Not all ghosts scream.
Some just want someone to finally say their name.