Chapter 9 : The pull of the moon

The sun had already sunk below the horizon, leaving merely the faintest traces of twilight. The city was enveloped in the gentle murmur of evening, the streets illuminated by flickering lanterns that projected long shadows on the cobblestoned pathways. Meng Yu wandered carelessly through the well-known streets, yet today they felt strange, as if the entire world around him had altered. His steps, once steady, now felt unsteady, each one weightier than the previous.

It was the stranger. The vision of those golden eyes, those penetrating, strange yet known eyes, remained in his thoughts. Regardless of how fiercely he attempted to dismiss it, he could not escape the sensation that they belonged to someone he ought to recognize, someone he had encountered. But how could that be? He had never met the man at any point in his life.

The recollection of the words the stranger had uttered that night resonated in his thoughts, unyielding, impossible to overlook: "Your path and mine are bound, though we know it not. " Those words—so straightforward, yet so meaningful—felt like a conundrum. A puzzle that tugged at the deepest recesses of his heart. What could it signify? Why did it appear as though his very essence had been imprinted by them?

His thoughts cascaded, unable to find any grounding point. The more he attempted to reason with himself, the more ensnared he became in bewilderment. Could it be that he had encountered this stranger in a former life? Was it destiny that had brought them together? Or was he merely concocting scenarios, overwhelmed by emotions he couldn't comprehend?

A surge of remorse flooded through him. How could he dwell on this stranger when Lin Mei had shown him nothing but kindness? She had tried to uplift his spirits, yet he could perceive the concern in her eyes every time she looked at him. How could he articulate to her that something within felt fractured, that he couldn't rid himself of the sensation that something was lacking? How could he confess that his heart, although filled with affection for her as a cherished friend, sensed something entirely different regarding the stranger in the woods?

Meng Yu slowed his steps as he approached the home he shared with Lin Mei. The warmth of the house felt like a distant solace, as if he were moving toward a place that no longer felt like home. He had been so absorbed in thoughts of the stranger, in his own bewilderment, that he hadn't even realized how much time had passed. The door creaked gently as he pushed it open, entering the peaceful room.

Lin Mei was seated by the fireplace, her delicate fingers moving through the threads of a cloth she was embroidering. Her movements were fluid, familiar, but her gaze met his upon his entrance. The warmth of her smile dimmed when she noticed his expression.

"You're here again," Lin Mei said quietly, her tone carrying a subtle worry that made his heart constrict. "Are you okay? "

Meng Yu opened his mouth to reply, to comfort her as he usually did, but the words stuck in his throat. He didn't want to deceive her, but how could he articulate this chaos within him? How could he express the tightening feeling in his chest, the awareness of something elusive drifting further away with every moment?

"I'm okay," he said, the phrase seeming empty as soon as it escaped his lips. He despised himself for saying it, yet what other option did he have? He forced a grin, although it didn't reach his eyes.

Lin Mei was silent initially, but she didn't divert her gaze from him either. Her eyes, typically filled with empathy, now scrutinized his expression with quiet resolve, as if attempting to assemble the unspoken thoughts. Meng Yu felt the weight of her stare, but he couldn't bring himself to articulate anything.

Instead, he approached the table and sat down, his fingers lightly grazing the rim of his tea cup. The warmth of the beverage should have offered solace, yet it merely emphasized his sense of detachment. His thoughts wandered, and for a brief moment, he lost awareness of his surroundings. His gaze became distant as he stared into the abyss of the tea.

"Would you like to discuss it? " Lin Mei inquired, her voice so soft that it made his heart ache. "Whatever it is, I'm here to listen. "

He opened his mouth, but the words wouldn't emerge. Instead, he let out a soft sigh, his hand shaking slightly as he reached for the cup. He couldn't pin down the right words. How could he clarify that his mind was preoccupied with the stranger, by something he could not even identify?

He took a sip from the cup, the warm tea temporarily providing him with comfort, but even that sensation felt fleeting. It was of no help. Nothing was.

Lin Mei didn't probe him further, but she also didn't leave. She remained, working in silence next to him, her presence a calm and steady support. Meng Yu occasionally felt her gaze upon him, and he understood she was waiting for him to open up, but he found he couldn't. Not yet.

The silence that enveloped them lingered, dense and heavy, until Lin Mei finally stood. She walked around the table, gently putting the cup aside before placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Whenever you feel ready," she said softly, her words imbued with more affection than he could handle. "I'll be here. "

He nodded, but it felt deceptive. He wasn't certain when—or if—he would ever feel ready.

That night, after Lin Mei had gone to bed, Meng Yu found himself gazing out the window. The moonlight was brilliant, casting a gentle glow over everything it illuminated. It was a sight he recognized, yet this evening it felt unique, as if the moon had transformed into something more significant.

His attention was captured by the silvery light, and the same peculiar attraction he had sensed earlier returned, even stronger this time. He understood now that it was the moon, beckoning him.

Without a moment's thought, he rose to his feet, his legs moving of their own accord. He couldn't remain here. He couldn't remain in the house, enveloped by comfort and security. He needed to be elsewhere, somewhere that resonated more with who he was.

The door opened with a gentle creak, and he walked out into the brisk night air. The streets were silent, the town already in slumber, but the urge within him intensified with each step he took. He headed toward the forest's edge, sensing something ancient and familiar inviting him deeper, urging him to approach.

The trees loomed tall before him, the forest dark and still. The air was heavy with the fragrance of pine, the leaves whispering softly in the breeze. He cautiously entered the woods, the underbrush crunching quietly beneath his steps.

It was here, amid the trees, that the pull became overwhelming. It wasn't the forest itself, not entirely. It was something within the forest, something invisible yet profoundly felt. His heart raced in his chest, and as he ventured further in, it felt as though something awaited him.

Then, it appeared—a single petal, gently drifting down from the branches above, bathed in moonlight. It danced in the air, light as a whisper, before landing at his feet. The delicate pink color glimmered in the glow, and he bent down to retrieve it.

The instant his fingers brushed against the petal, a peculiar warmth flowed through him. His breath caught, and for a brief moment, it was as if time itself had suspended. The petal seemed to throb in his grasp, as though it were alive, and a voice—a distant, familiar voice—echoed in his mind.

You are not alone. Your journey is woven with mine.

His heartbeat quickened as his chest constricted. The petal felt impossibly warm in his grasp, and the warmth radiated, wrapping around his heart. It was the oddest feeling, like a memory that had been buried, now stirring to life.

He looked up at the sky, his gaze locked on the moon, the light cascading down like a silver thread linking him to something more profound. Something deeper.

"I don't know who you are," he murmured, the words slipping from his mouth before he could restrain them. "But I believe. . . I believe I'm meant to find you. "

The phrases seemed like a vow, a silent connection that linked him to the moon, to the woods, and to the unfamiliar person with the golden eyes. He didn't grasp it, not completely. Yet he was aware of one fact without doubt: something awaited him, something he couldn't flee from, no matter how desperately he attempted.