The night pressed down like a blanket that had forgotten warmth.
Clouds moved without sound. The wind slid through the valley and sighed against the empty huts. Somewhere far away, a dog barked once and fell silent again.
By the lake, a boy sat alone.
He was thin, not from hunger but just that he didn't care. His knees were drawn to his chest, his chin resting on the bones of his arms. The air smelled of wet soil and crushed reeds. The lake spread before him like a sheet of glass, so still that it seemed carved from stone.
He had come here every night since the funeral of his mother
No one told him to. He simply walked until the path ended and the water began. The village lights stayed behind him, small and useless. Out here the world was quiet, and quiet felt honest.
Tonight the moon was enormous, swollen and heavy, hanging low above the water. Its reflection trembled with faint ripples that weren't made by wind. The boy noticed it but didn't move.
He was tired of being surprised.
His hands were numb. He could still feel the place on his wrist where a bracelet used to be. It had belonged to the only woman he ever loved in his life—thin silver wire with three beads that looked like drops of frozen rain. It had been taken from her coffin before the burial. The boy didn't know who took it, and he didn't care enough to ask the hooligans of his family .
Even her aunt,li mei wouldn't bother to ask ,not because she didn't care but because she was exhausted for working in the mines just to take care of them
A soft sound drifted over the water, something like a whisper swallowed by distance.
He lifted his head.
The lake had changed. The moon's reflection was no longer his own.
A face stared back at him through the silver surface—gentle and luminous, not entirely human. Hair like threads of light floated around it. Eyes the color of gold watched him with a sadness deeper than the lake itself.
He did not flinch but only looked back
For a moment neither of them breathed. The reflection moved closer until it almost touched his shoes.
"You're late," he said quietly. His voice surprisingly didn't echo in the dark night
The figure in the water blinked .
The boy's shoulders shook once . "You're supposed to take me," he murmured. "That's how stories go, right? Lost boys, dark lakes, strange spirits."
The golden eyes flickered. Then the water rippled. The image blurred but did not vanish. A warmth spread across the air, faint but real, like the breath of something alive beneath the surface.
The boy's thoughts drifted. He remembered her voice ,the way it used to hum when she cooked rice, when she brushed his hair, when the world still had color. It had been a year, but the silence that followed her death hadn't grown lighter. It had only become part of him.
He leaned forward until the tips of his fingers touched the surface. The water was warmer than the air. Circles spread outward, slow and even.
"Why won't you come?" he asked the reflection. "If you're real, take me with you."
A faint tremor answered him. The reflection bent, then formed again but now clearer. He could see the edges of scales along the cheeks, faint like the pattern of wind on sand. The creature or spirit watched him without malice. Its beauty hurt to look at.
The boy smiled, though it wasn't a happy smile.
"I used to think beauty was kind," he said. "But it isn't, is it? It just stares and lets you drown in it "
The reflection tilted its head, as if listening. Then, from beneath the lake, a deep note sounded. It was the earth itself exhaling.
The boy didn't move.
He felt the vibration pass through his bones, up his spine, into his skull.
The water began to glow faintly. Lines of gold spread outward like veins, circling him. He could smell iron and rain.
"You don't have to pity me," he whispered. "I stopped asking anyone to but you are now the only woman who comforts my soul and cleanses my heart ."
He closed his eyes and waited for the cold to swallow him, but instead a warmth touched his cheek. A finger of light brushed against his skin. He opened his eyes again. The reflection had risen halfway from the water—no longer a face, but a figure shaped from liquid gold, hair dripping light, eyes filled with silence.
It looked almost human. Almost beautiful enough to hurt.
"Why do you wait for death?" a voice asked. It came not through air but directly into his chest.
He blinked slowly. "Because life forgot me first."
The spirit's gaze softened, almost human in its sadness.
Then the light flickered, dimmed, and sank back into the lake as if drawn by invisible hands. The boy's fingers closed on emptiness. The glow beneath the surface faded until only the moon remained.
For a long while he stayed there, staring at the water. When he finally stood, his legs shook from sitting too long.
A single feather lay on the ground near his feet. It shone faintly, silver at the edges, warm at the center. He picked it up and turned it between his fingers. It left a trace of light on his skin that refused to fade.
The spirit clenched its hand around the feather and smiled.
Its voice was soft, almost like a whisper carried by the wind.
"Would you love me if I agreed to stay with you?" it asked.
The boy's eyes lit up at once. He nodded eagerly, like a puppy that had just been called home, his blue eyes shimmering like the moon's reflection on the lake.
"Yes," he said quickly. "I would love you every day with all my heart."
He pressed a small hand against his chest, leaning forward as if trying to prove his words.
The spirit looked at him quietly, its gaze deep and unreadable. For a moment, it felt as though it would drown in those clear, earnest eyes. Then it lifted its other hand — the one holding the feather and slowly pressed the quill into its own palm. The feather sank in, disappearing beneath the skin.
Li Xuan didn't flinch. He only glanced at the motion, then looked back up at the spirit, their eyes meeting in the pale light.
"You are charming," the spirit said softly, a faint smile curving its lips. "Too bad you're only nine years old."
"So what?" the boy puffed, his small voice filled with stubborn fire. "I don't care if you're a hundred or a thousand years old. The only thing that matters to me is the resonance of your heart… and your beauty."
Normally, anyone else would have thought the boy insane — and truthfully, most of the village already did. But the lake had always been kind to him, and its quiet depths soothed the sadness he never spoke about.
The spirit tilted Its head, a faint ripple passing through its form. "Too bad," it said. "I'm neither a hundred nor a thousand… but a million years old."
The boy's eyes widened slightly, but he pretended not to be surprised. His lips trembled once before he whispered, "I don't care."
The spirit watched him for a long, silent moment. Then it stepped backward, its feet touching the lake's surface as if it were glass.
"Go home," it said gently. "It's dark, Li Xuan."
It was the first time it had ever spoken his name and that alone made the boy's heart glow with quiet joy.
He smiled faintly and watched as the spirit's body slowly dissolved into the water. Ripples spread across the surface until only the reflection of the moon remained
The path was narrow and broken. Frogs croaked in the ditches. Insects whispered in the reeds. The boy moved through them like a shadow with no destination. The village roofs appeared with lamps burning behind paper windows, soft yellow glows that looked almost like ghosts.
He passed them quietly. No one noticed him. They rarely did.
His house stood at the edge of the road, smaller than the others. The door hung slightly open. Inside, the air smelled of cold ashes and damp wood. He stepped over the threshold, removed his shoes, and sat on his bed . Today the house was quiet,his aunt must have slept already after working in the mines almost all day .
Sure enough,she must have ate the food she prepared for her .
He stared at his palm and instantly a feather materialized. Its light had dimmed but hadn't died.
The boy looked at both lights—the candle's warmth and the feather's glow and felt the same thought form quietly in his mind:
I don't belong to either world.
He leaned back against the wall close to his bed .His body felt heavy, not with sleep but with the kind of exhaustion that words can't fix.
Before he closed his eyes, he glanced once more at the feather and drifted off to sleep on his bed .
Outside, the clouds drifted apart. The moon looked down at the village, pale and watchful. On the surface of the distant lake, a pair of golden eyes opened again, unseen by anyone.
"I have waited for 100,000 years,it is time for my reincarnation "