Chapter 2: Hidden Shadows

The sun dipped lower in the sky as Lan Wei and Mei made their way back to the village, the crimson shard still tucked away in his satchel. The quiet of the forest stretched between them, but Lan couldn't help stealing glances at her.

Mei always stood out in their village. She had from the moment she arrived two years ago, an outsider in a place where faces rarely changed. Even now, walking beside her, Lan Wei couldn't shake the feeling that she didn't quite belong.

It wasn't just that she was beautiful—though she undeniably was. Her long, raven-black hair fell in smooth waves down her back, framing a face that seemed carved from porcelain. Her skin was flawless, pale but glowing with an ethereal light. Her eyes, a deep, rich brown, always seemed to hold secrets just out of reach, as if she knew far more than she let on. And her lips—soft and full—were always curved in a faint smile, one that made Lan's heart race in ways he didn't fully understand.

But it wasn't just her beauty that set her apart. There was something else, something intangible that clung to her like a faint mist. The way she carried herself, graceful but with an edge of sharpness. The way people watched her without knowing why. It was as though she was both part of the village and entirely separate from it at the same time.

She's too beautiful to be here, Lan thought, for the hundredth time since they'd met. The village was small and simple, its people weathered by hard work and daily routines. Mei, on the other hand, was like something from a dream. Every time she was near, she made the world around her seem dull in comparison.

But she didn't seem to notice, or care. In fact, Mei often acted like she belonged, blending in effortlessly despite her striking appearance.

"I still think it's strange," Lan Wei said, breaking the silence. "Why did you even come to this village in the first place? I mean, you never told me."

Mei glanced at him, a flicker of something in her eyes—was it hesitation? But she quickly smiled, that same practiced smile that never reached her eyes. "I told you before, didn't I? I was sent here to train. My family… they wanted me to experience life away from the sect, away from all the rigid rules."

Lan Wei nodded, though something about the explanation always felt too simple, too neat. From what little he knew of cultivation sects, they weren't the kind of places to send their members off for "experience." But Mei never gave him any more details, and he never pushed her. He respected her too much for that.

As they walked, Lan caught a glimpse of his own reflection in a small pond they passed. His features were more ordinary by comparison—short black hair that always seemed to stick out no matter how he tried to fix it, skin a little tanned from working outside. His eyes were a clear, deep brown, though not as captivating as Mei's. He wasn't tall, but his frame had begun to fill out, the result of helping his father and running through the woods every chance he got.

Yet, even though Lan Wei knew he wasn't the most striking person, there was something else. Something he had noticed, faintly, in the way people sometimes paused when they looked at him. It wasn't like Mei, who drew attention immediately. No, for Lan Wei, it was more subtle, like a passing breeze that made people stop, just for a second, to wonder if they had missed something important. He wasn't sure what it was—maybe a sense of calm, maybe a quiet strength. But it was there, even if no one, not even him, truly noticed it yet.

Lan Wei sat on the edge of his family's small porch, watching the stars blink into existence overhead. His thoughts kept circling back to Mei, as they often did. He didn't fully understand why someone like her, from a sect no less, would stay in a place like this for so long. Even her reason—sent here to "train"—seemed too vague to be the full truth. But whenever he tried to press her on it, she changed the subject, or smiled that gentle, disarming smile that always seemed to make him forget what he was asking.

He sighed and leaned back, glancing down at the crimson shard he had found earlier. It pulsed faintly in his hand, the light soft and eerie in the night's darkness. What was it? And why had it been buried out in the forest? He would ask his parents about it in the morning.

A soft rustling sound caught his attention, and he turned to see Mei approaching again. She walked lightly, her steps almost soundless as she moved through the shadows, her long robes trailing behind her.

"Lan Wei," she said quietly, her voice like silk in the still night. "Can I join you?"

He nodded, and she sat beside him, close enough that their shoulders nearly touched. There was a quiet between them that felt different from before, heavier somehow.

"Do you ever wonder," Mei began, her voice thoughtful, "what your life would be like if you weren't… here? If you could see more of the world, be more than just… this?"

Lan blinked. "I don't know. I mean, I'm happy here. With my family, with you…" He trailed off, suddenly feeling awkward under her intense gaze.

Mei smiled, though her eyes remained distant, as if she were looking past him, seeing something far beyond the village. "That's what makes you different, Lan Wei. You're content. You're kind. You don't ask for more. But…" She paused, her fingers absentmindedly brushing the hem of her robe. "The world doesn't reward kindness. Power… power is the only thing that truly matters."

Lan felt a small shiver run through him at her words. The way she said it, with such calm certainty, unsettled him. He had never really thought about it before—power wasn't something he desired, wasn't something he needed. He was content, just as she had said.

"But sometimes, wanting more is what the world demands," Mei finished softly.

Lan didn't understand what she meant. He wasn't sure he wanted to.

Mei turned her gaze back to him, her eyes softening, just for a moment. "You don't see it now. But one day, you will."

As they sat together in silence, Mei's fingers traced absent shapes in the dirt, her eyes distant. There was a tension in her that Lan Wei had never noticed before—a stillness that didn't belong to the carefree girl he had always known. She didn't belong here. It was in the way she moved, the way she spoke as if she knew things the rest of the village couldn't even imagine. And yet, she stayed. Why?

Mei glanced at him, her eyes narrowing slightly as if weighing something unspoken. Then she stood, her movements fluid, graceful as always.

"I should go," she said, her voice flat now, all the warmth from earlier gone. "The night is growing late."

Lan Wei watched her go, a knot tightening in his chest. He didn't know what it was—something about her felt… wrong. Not dangerous, but distant. As if she were already slipping away, even though she was still right in front of him.