He always dreams of the same scene:
A misty, white plain stretches endlessly before him, as if forgotten by time. The wind stops, the light softens, and the sky becomes a silver sea. There is no sound, only her footsteps.
She wears a white veil and walks slowly toward him. The veil brushes the ground like the breath of snow. Each step seems to span countless seasons.
He stands rooted to the spot, gazing at her blurred yet familiar face.
She was not from his reality, yet her smile tugged at his heart as if a lost memory had been returned.
He reached out, desperate to touch her.
Just as his fingertips were about to touch hers, her form dissolved into light, shattering and scattering into the endless white mist.
The remnants of light fell into his palm, faintly cool.
And he always awoke at that very moment.
———
When he awoke, dawn had yet to break.
The city outside the window lay silent, an uncommon sight in modern times.
Gray-blue light seeped through the window and fell upon his pale profile.
He sat on the edge of the bed, his hand still clenched in habit as if grasping for the light from his dream. Yet his palm held nothing—not even warmth remained.
This dream had repeated for six months.
At first, he thought they were merely stress-induced hallucinations.
Later, however, the dream became more vivid. He could recall the scent of damp white flowers under moonlight mingled with a faint trace of blood.
He began to doubt whether he was truly "dreaming" at all.
———
One night, he dreamed of that place again.
The mist seemed thinner this time, allowing him to see more details. In the distance, he saw a mirror lake with a surface as still as glass reflecting the cloudless sky. Several broken stone pillars, etched with ancient patterns, stood along the shore.
A name surfaced in his mind: Bai Qi.
He didn't know why he knew this name. It wasn't his, yet it felt inextricably linked to him. In that moment, he sensed that he did not exist in human form but as something else entirely.
He looked down and saw his reflection.
A pair of golden eyes with narrow, slanted pupils and light dancing within them.
Those were not human eyes.
He recoiled violently as a sharp pain pierced his chest and a beastly growl echoed in his ears.
The dream began to tremble. He saw her, veiled in white, walking toward him from the other end of the lake. She smiled as she reached out her hand.
"Bai Qi..." Her lips moved; her voice was soft yet pierced the dream's barrier.
His eyes snapped open. He tried to respond: "Who... are you?"
"I am—"
Before she could finish, the surface of the lake shattered. Light surged like a tidal wave.
The entire world was engulfed in white flames.
———
Five in the morning.
He awoke with his heart racing and his forehead drenched in cold sweat.
The phone by his bed glowed, displaying a missed call—from her.
The "her" of reality.
His colleague, his business partner, and the woman who had puzzled him for so long.
He remembered her murmuring in her sleep last night, "You seem so familiar lately. Like...we've met somewhere before."
He had smiled then, dismissing it as a coincidence.
Now, he could no longer laugh.
He unlocked his phone; its screen reflected his face.
In that instant, he thought he saw another color in his eyes—a silvery light flickering deep within his pupils.
———
For several nights afterward, he could no longer fall asleep on his own.
But dreams found him.
He began to dream of disjointed fragments: mountain mist, red cords, flickering flames, and a girl's sobs.
Someone called out, "Bai Qi," and someone else prayed, "Don't forget."
In his dreams, he was sometimes a fox, sometimes human, and sometimes transformed into wind.
He ran, searched, and called out to the girl in white through countless overlapping scenes.
Sometimes she was nearby, turning to smile.
Other times, she was far away, kneeling before an altar with tears glistening on her face.
He heard himself whisper,
"In this life, do I finally have a chance to see you again?"
But the only answer was the shattering sound of light.
———
One dusk, as he stepped out of the office, the sky felt strange.
Clouds hung low, shrouding the city in a thin mist.
Streetlights flickered on too early, forming concentric rings of silver.
Suddenly, he spotted a figure in the crowd ahead.
She wore a white dress, and her steps were slow and measured. Her hair was gently lifted by the breeze.
The instant she turned her head, his heart nearly stopped.
It was her—the woman from his dream.
Not similar, but the exact same gaze.
The familiarity that transcended time and space left him almost breathless.
He called her name.
She paused, turned back, and gave a faint smile.
Then, the mist dispersed.
The street was deserted.
He stood there alone with icy-cold palms.
Yet, a single white petal fell softly between his fingers.
On that petal, a faint silver light shimmered.
just like the light she had transformed into before fading away in his dream.
He finally understood: This dream was more than just a dream.
It was a summons from memory.
The soul named "Bai Qi" was awakening.