They played by the riverbank until time itself seemed to lose meaning. The clear water flowed gently, reflecting the slanted light of the afternoon sun. The white-haired girl removed her footwear, rolled up her clothes slightly, and stepped into the water without hesitation. Small ripples spread from her ankles, disturbing the river's once-calm surface.
Meng Wang hesitated for a moment before following her in. The water was cold, but not biting. He bent down, scooped water with both hands, then let it flow back through his fingers. The girl laughed softly and splashed water toward him. The spray hit his face, startling him.
He splashed back without thinking. Water scattered into the girl's white hair, causing the strands to cling to her cheeks. They splashed each other, laughing, moving toward the shallow middle of the river. Their laughter mixed with the sound of flowing water and the whisper of the wind, creating an atmosphere unfamiliar to Meng Wang. There was no pressure. No demands. Only this moment.
They raced across a narrow section of the river, their feet touching the slippery stones at the bottom. Once, Meng Wang slipped, and the girl caught his arm to keep him from falling. The touch was light, yet it made him freeze for a brief instant. He did not know why his chest suddenly felt warm.
Time passed unnoticed. The sun slowly descended, its golden light fading. The shadows of the mountains stretched across the water's surface. At last, the girl stopped and looked up at the sky with a calm expression. "It's already late," she said softly.
Meng Wang nodded. They sat on a large rock, their feet still submerged. The wind carried the scent of earth and damp leaves. No promises were spoken, no dramatic farewell exchanged. They simply smiled at each other.
When they parted, the girl raised her hand in a single wave. Meng Wang returned the gesture. He stood there for a while after her figure disappeared behind the trees. There was something hollow in his chest, as if a small part of that day had gone with her.
He returned home as the light of dusk began to fade. When he opened the door, he said softly, "I'm home." From inside came his mother's gentle reply, "Welcome back."
Meng Wang went straight to the kitchen. He took the food that had been prepared and ate slowly. Not long after, Xun Ce came over. "Did you have fun?" she asked.
Meng Wang nodded. With a bit of food still in his mouth, he said, "Yes… but also no. I feel like I've lost something precious." Xun Ce fell silent, confused. "What do you mean?" But Meng Wang did not answer. He only lowered his head and continued eating.
Xun Ce returned to preparing food for dinner. After finishing his meal, Meng Wang said he wanted to bathe and asked his mother to wash him. Xun Ce smiled. "Aren't you already big?" Meng Wang put on a sad face. "I can't yet." Xun Ce let out a soft sigh, then nodded.
In the small bathing room, they played with water. Meng Wang's laughter echoed softly. Outside, Meng Du, who was lying down, heard it. His expression hardened, his brows knitting in irritation.
Night fell. Lanterns throughout the city were lit one by one. They ate dinner together. This time, Meng Du joined them. The atmosphere turned stiff. He read a book while eating. Meng Wang glanced at him in silence. In his heart, he wondered whether the book was truly that interesting.
His father's gaze shifted toward him. Meng Wang immediately looked away. "When I'm not here, you're noisy," Meng Du said flatly. "But when I eat with you, you're silent."
There was no answer. Suddenly, the table was slammed. Xun Ce and Meng Wang both startled. Meng Du stood up and left without finishing his meal. Xun Ce calmly set aside the remaining food. Meng Wang sat trembling. In his heart, an old fear resurfaced, casting its shadow over the quiet night.
That night felt longer than usual. After the door closed and the sound of Meng Du's footsteps truly faded away, the small house sank back into silence. The oil lamp in the corner flickered softly, its flame casting long shadows on the aging wooden walls. Meng Wang sat still, his back stiff, as if his body had yet to believe that the danger had passed.
Xun Ce moved slowly, clearing the table without a sound. Every movement was careful, as if she feared disturbing something fragile. She did not scold Meng Wang, nor did she comfort him with words. She was simply there, her presence like a thin wall separating the child from the harsh world beyond.
When everything was tidy, Xun Ce extinguished some of the lamps. "Sleep," she said gently. "Tomorrow will be long." Meng Wang nodded faintly. He walked to his sleeping space and lay down on the thin straw mattress. The wooden ceiling loomed dark above him, and the sounds of the city gradually faded, replaced by nocturnal insects and the distant footsteps of patrolling guards.
Sleep did not come easily. His mind was filled with images of the river, the white-haired girl's laughter, and his father's cold face. Two opposing worlds collided within his thoughts. He could not tell which was real, or which he was meant to choose. In the end, exhaustion overcame him, and he drifted off.
The next morning, the small city came alive again. Sunlight illuminated the rooftops, and the aroma of steamed buns and warm porridge drifted from the kitchens. Meng Wang woke early. He helped his mother draw water from the public well, overhearing neighbors talk about rice prices and foreign cultivators seen at the city gate the previous night.
Names of sects were mentioned with tones of half fear, half awe. To Meng Wang, all of it felt distant. He only listened, storing fragments of information without truly understanding them. The adult world was always layered and obscure.
Afterward, he went to the market. Orange Stone City was not large, but it was crowded enough. The main street was lined with stalls selling cloth, medicine, and metal goods. An old vendor called out to him, offering a cheap protective talisman. Meng Wang politely declined. He looked around, observing the people passing by. Every face carried a story; every step had a purpose.
In a corner of the market, he saw a group of children his age playing. He paused for a moment, but did not approach. He felt like an outsider, as though an invisible distance separated him from them. Without realizing it, his feet carried him elsewhere, along a road leading to the city hall.
The hall was old, built of gray stone with worn ancient carvings. On the notice board were papers listing orders, tax announcements, and one item that caught his eye: a notice about a basic talent test for the city's children, organized by representatives of an external sect.
Meng Wang read it slowly. He did not fully understand its meaning, but the words "talent" and "selection" lodged themselves in his mind. He imagined his father's face upon seeing the notice. His chest tightened—not from fear, but from a strange sense of curiosity.
He returned home near noon. Xun Ce was hanging cloth in the small yard. When she saw him, she smiled faintly. "Where did you go?" she asked. "Around the city," Meng Wang replied briefly. He did not mention what he had seen. Not yet.
The afternoon passed quietly. Meng Du was nowhere to be seen. Only the books in the reading room bore witness to his presence. As evening approached, wind blew again from the mountains, carrying a faint chill. Meng Wang stood in front of the house, gazing at the stone road bathed in the light of sunset.
Within his heart, a feeling slowly took shape. It was not hope, nor fear. It was the realization that this small city—with all its confinement and pressure—was merely the beginning. He did not yet know where his steps would lead, but for the first time, he understood that the world would not end here.