The school's field trip had reached its second day, and the golden hour was melting across the sky. The camp buzzed with energy — students carrying bamboo poles, unpacking boxes of lanterns, and scribbling banners for tomorrow's cultural evening.
"Okay everyone!" Mei, the class rep, clapped her hands. "We decorate the courtyard before dinner! Don't vanish halfway like yesterday."
Wen stretched lazily. "You sound like a general before battle."
"Then you're my laziest soldier," she shot back. "Pair up! Wen, go help Yun — she knows the layout here better than anyone."
Yun raised an eyebrow. "Lucky me," she muttered, picking up a coil of lantern string.
"You're welcome," Wen said with a grin.
They walked together down the path toward the old courtyard near the canal. The road was quiet, lined with rain-darkened trees whose branches swayed above their heads. Fallen petals fluttered in the breeze, brushing their shoes as they walked.
"This place is beautiful," Wen said softly. "Feels… familiar, somehow."
"Familiar?" Yun asked. "You've been here before?"
He hesitated. "Maybe. Or maybe it's just the kind of place that feels like a memory."
She smiled faintly. "You talk like an old poet."
He shrugged. "Maybe I am."
They started hanging lanterns, the orange paper glowing against the dusky sky. Yun climbed onto a wooden crate, reaching for a high branch. Wen steadied it without being asked.
"Careful," he said. "If you fall, I'm not catching you."
"Good," she said, not looking down. "I wasn't planning to fall anyway."
The branch bent just slightly — and so did his smirk. "You always this confident?"
"Only when I'm right."
Her braid brushed his cheek as she leaned forward, tying the knot. The air seemed to pause for half a heartbeat.
Then someone called from behind, "Hey, you two! Done hanging stars up there or planning to camp out?"
They both turned to see Rui and Mei carrying baskets of flowers, grinning.
"Working," Yun said quickly. "Unlike some people."
Rui laughed. "Right, right. Funny how every time we can't find you, you're both missing at once."
Yun rolled her eyes, tossing a petal at him. "Coincidence. Don't start rumors."
Wen smiled lightly. "Yeah, we just work at the same speed. Unfortunately for her, I'm faster."
"Faster?" Yun scoffed. "You tied one lantern and took a break."
"Efficiency," he said. "City technique."
Rui groaned. "You two argue like it's a sport."
Yun smirked. "I'm winning though."
By the time the courtyard filled with warm light, most students had wandered off for dinner. The sky had turned a deep violet, and fireflies began to appear near the canal.
Wen lingered behind, picking up the empty lantern boxes. Across the bridge, Yun was adjusting a crooked one.
"Leave it," he said. "Looks perfect from here."
She shook her head. "You have no idea how villagers panic over crooked decorations."
He walked closer. "Guess I'll have to learn."
When she leaned forward to reach the branch, the rope slipped. The lantern dipped — and in her rush to grab it, she brushed his arm. He tried to steady her, but she lost balance anyway.
"Wait—!"
Splash.
The lantern bobbed in the water. Yun stood frozen, watching it drift. "Great. Now it's ruined."
"I'll get it," he said, already stepping down toward the edge.
But she stopped him. "You'll fall."
"I won't—"
He slipped.
Splash.
Cold water soaked his shirt. He blinked up at her, dripping, as she burst into laughter.
"You—" he started, wiping his face, "you jinxed me!"
She couldn't stop laughing. "I told you not to go!"
"You sound way too happy for someone who just lost a lantern."
"Maybe I'm just laughing at you."
He splashed a bit of water toward her in revenge. "Now we're even."
"Hey! Stop—" she squealed, stepping back — and nearly lost balance herself. He caught her wrist just in time, their eyes meeting under the fading orange glow.
For a long moment, neither spoke. The sound of the canal rippling beneath them was the only thing that moved.
Then a voice called from the bridge, breaking the spell.
"Hey! What are you two doing? Everyone's waiting for dinner!"
They turned to see Chen Hao standing there, half-smiling, half-frowning.
"Checking lantern stability," Yun said quickly, stepping back.
Chen's gaze flicked between them. "Sure. Looks like you checked thoroughly."
Wen laughed awkwardly, climbing out. "We were testing gravity."
"Seems it works fine," Chen said dryly.
Later that night, as the others ate and talked around campfires, Wen slipped out toward the open fields. The stars above the village were clearer than anything in the city — countless, sharp, alive.
He sat on a small rock, letting the cool wind wash over him. "Feels… like home," he murmured.
A voice came from behind. "You sneak out often?"
He turned to see Yun approaching, holding a small paper packet. "You again," he said, smiling. "What's that?"
"Candied sesame sticks," she said, sitting beside him. "They sell them at the corner shop. Try one."
He bit into one. Sweet, slightly burnt — but somehow perfect. "Reminds me of something."
"What?" she asked.
He looked toward the stars. "A summer long ago. A festival. A girl who got mad because I stole her sweets."
Yun laughed softly. "Sounds like you deserved it."
"Maybe I did," he said.
A few feet behind them, Chen Hao had come looking for them. He stopped when he heard Wen's voice, his expression tightening.He didn't step forward. He just listened — silent, guilty — as the two laughed under the starlit sky, unaware that their past was already beginning to circle back.