Dreams of a Faded Memory

That night, after returning home from their brief and unsettling encounter with Hua, Ming lay in his bed, feeling oddly unsettled. Xueyao was in the next room, but for some reason, being near her no longer brought him the peace it once did. A deep sense of confusion gnawed at him, and though he couldn't put his finger on why, it was becoming harder to ignore.

As he closed his eyes, sleep came reluctantly, but when it finally did, something unexpected happened.

In his dream, there was a girl. She stood far away, her form blurry, like a mist that he couldn't quite see through. Her face was hidden, but something about her presence made his heart race. She didn't speak, didn't move, but he felt drawn to her. The more he tried to approach her, the more she seemed to fade, slipping further from his reach.

His chest tightened as if something precious was slipping away. He tried calling out, but no sound came. All he could hear was the rhythmic pounding of his heart, growing louder and faster the closer he got to the girl. He needed to see her—needed to know who she was. But every time he got close, she would vanish, leaving him standing in the empty void, breathless.

Suddenly, he woke up, drenched in sweat. His heart was still racing, and his hands were shaking. He pressed a palm to his chest, feeling the rapid beat beneath his skin. The dream had felt so real, as if the girl had been right there with him. But who was she?

Ming sat up in bed, confused and disoriented. He rubbed his temples, trying to shake off the lingering image of the girl in his dreams. It wasn't the first time he had dreamed of her, but tonight had been different—more vivid, more intense.

"Why can't I see her face?" he muttered to himself, frustration lacing his voice.

He tried to push the thought away, but his heart wouldn't stop racing. The more he thought about it, the more unsettled he felt. It was like there was something—or someone—his mind was desperately trying to remember. Something important.

As he lay back down, closing his eyes once again, he tried to summon the dream back. But no matter how hard he tried, the image of the girl remained elusive, just out of reach.

Xueyao's presence in the house felt heavier than ever, but the mysterious girl in his dream had ignited something within him—something he couldn't ignore.

The next morning, Ming couldn't shake the feeling. Throughout the day, his mind kept drifting back to the dream, and every time it did, his heart would start pounding again. It was as if his body remembered something his mind had forgotten.

"What's wrong with me?" he whispered under his breath, clutching his chest.

His thoughts were a whirlpool of confusion. He had Xueyao, the girl he was with now, but why did this faceless girl in his dreams keep making his heart race like that? Why did it feel like she was the one who mattered?

Without even realizing it, Ming found himself standing by the window, staring out into the distance. He didn't know what he was looking for, but something deep inside him was calling out—searching for something that had been lost.

Someone that had been lost.

He clenched his fists, trying to hold on to the fading memory from the dream. "Who are you?" he asked aloud, but the only answer was the sound of his own heartbeat, pounding in his ears.