Yuan Zhao: Tearful Farewell

His heart trembled as he followed every clue. Each tear represented a heavy emotion, a suppressed feeling that called out to him. Every time he reached the designated place and another clue appeared, his head throbbed as if something inside him was being unlocked.

Why?

He'd never felt such helpless emotion before. When he saw her at the temple fair his world came to a grinding halt. He thought he was bewitched, that she did something to deceive his senses. But as he watched her tears fall, his whole being burned. At that moment, he would have given anything to stop her from shedding those tears.

Still, he tried to deny and fight the mysterious feeling that seemed to bind him to her. The last thing he needed was to be entangled with a goddess from the righteous path. But instead of walking away, he found himself following her every movement and calling out her name.

Elmmmy… A name he does not recognize. But when uttered out loud, he could feel a pang in his heart. It was as if he's called it more than a thousand times.

The clues led him to a pavilion in the middle of a lake filled with blooming lotus flowers. His heart was filled with anticipation as he walked towards the pavilion. He has many questions and knows the answers lie with her.

At first, his steps were even and sure. steady. But as he drew close to the pavilion, he faltered for a breath and broke into a frantic run.

What greeted him at the pavilion was not the lovely, smiling face of the person he wanted to see but a deafening silence that made his knees weak.

In a daze, he sat and looked up at the full moon with complicated emotion. His head hurt, like it was splitting in two. But the pain was nothing compared to the knot in his chest.

He stayed there, in silence, with nothing but the stars and the moon for company. When he was about to leave, he noticed something on the seat across from him. It was a lock of hair and an ivory comb. With trembling fingers, he gently touched the lock of hair and slowly traced the pattern on the ivory comb.

As the last tear fell on the ground, it turned into a simple word that held a thousand meanings. 'Goodbye…'

The end… or is it?