The night was unnaturally still.
No crickets. No wind. Just the faint echo of rippling water under a blood-red moon.
Aiden crouched beside the Whispering Lake, trying not to think about how it got its name.
(He already had a solid theory — probably because it whispered.)
The surface reflected everything perfectly — the stars, the trees, even the faint outline of Lian standing behind him.
"You brought me here," Aiden said quietly. "Why?"
Lian's expression was unreadable. "Because this lake remembers what the living forget."
He tilted his head. "You really need to work on giving comforting answers."
Lian stepped closer, her reflection rippling across the surface like a second ghost.
"When I died," she said softly, "they threw my ashes into this lake. They thought water would cleanse my spirit."
Aiden looked up sharply. "That's—"
"—Cruel?" she finished. "Yes. But water remembers pain as much as it remembers beauty."
He swallowed. "Then what does it remember tonight?"
Her eyes met his — deep, endless, and shimmering red in the moonlight.
"You," she said simply.
Aiden froze. "Me?"
Lian nodded slowly. "You are the echo of a promise I was never allowed to keep."
Before Aiden could respond, the water around them began to glow.
Ripples formed without wind, moving outward in perfect circles.
Then — voices.
Faint, overlapping whispers filled the air, like a thousand secrets murmuring at once.
Aiden turned, heart pounding. "What are they saying?"
Lian tilted her head, listening. Her face turned pale. "They're calling my name."
The whispers grew louder. "Lian Xue… Lian Xue…"
Aiden stepped in front of her instinctively. "Are they dangerous?"
"They're my past selves," she whispered. "The shards left behind after death. Each one trapped, unable to move on."
The water surged — and shapes began to rise. Figures made of mist and memory, with faces half-formed and eyes empty.
"Okay, nope!" Aiden yelled, stumbling backward. "I did not sign up for haunted water people!"
Lian raised a hand, and crimson light burst from her palm.
"Stay behind me," she ordered, her voice suddenly colder, commanding — like a queen's.
The mist-figures screamed, a sound like glass breaking underwater.
"Why are they attacking?" Aiden shouted.
"Because you carry his blood," Lian said tightly. "They think you are Aiji."
"Well, tell them I'm not!"
"They do not listen to words," she said. "Only to truth."
Aiden grabbed her wrist suddenly. "Then let me show them."
Before she could protest, he stepped forward — right into the glowing water.
The lake swallowed him instantly.
"Aiden!" Lian cried, reaching out — but her hand passed through the surface.
Under the lake, everything was crimson and gold.
Aiden saw fragments of memory — fire, petals, a sword, and a woman's final scream.
Then, he saw her again — the living Lian, kneeling before soldiers, her eyes full of sorrow.
And in the distance, Aiji Zhou watching in silence.
Aiden felt fury burn through his veins. "You could've stopped it!" he shouted — though his voice echoed like thunder underwater.
The vision turned toward him. The ancestor's face — his own reflection, centuries older.
And the voice that answered was soft, broken:
"I tried. But love is not enough to defy a kingdom."
Aiden clenched his fists. "Then I'll defy it for you."
Light burst around him — pure, blinding red.
The whispers stopped. The mist-figures bowed their heads and slowly dissolved, their voices fading into peace.
When Aiden opened his eyes again, he was back on the shore — soaked, shivering, but alive.
Lian knelt beside him, eyes wide. "You fool," she whispered, trembling. "You could have been lost forever."
He coughed, laughing weakly. "Yeah, but then who'd make sarcastic jokes while saving cursed lakes?"
Her lips parted — a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob. "You are impossible."
"Thank you," he said, grinning faintly. "That's my best quality."
Silence again.
The lake was still — its surface now calm, no longer whispering.
Lian reached out, hesitating — then brushed a wet strand of hair from his forehead.
Her fingers were cold, but gentle.
For a moment, their eyes met — and the air between them felt alive.
"I can feel again," she whispered. "When I touch you."
Aiden smiled softly. "Then maybe that's why I'm here."
Lian blinked, startled — as if realizing something she didn't want to admit.
"You speak as though fate had meaning."
He shrugged. "Maybe it does. Or maybe I'm just really bad at running from ghosts."
That night, they didn't speak again.
Lian stayed by the lake, staring at the reflection of her forgotten self.
Aiden sat beside her — quiet, watching the red moon sink behind the trees.
When he finally looked at her again, she wasn't a ghost anymore.
Just a girl — trapped between past and present, life and death, love and memory.
And somehow, he thought, so was he.