Chapter 2 「Flickers of Light」

"Shit…" Jet muttered, wincing at the scrapes on his arm.

"Sorry?"

Jet blinked, looking down to realise he was sitting right on top of a stranger. He scrambled off, flushing with embarrassment, and extended a hand to help the man up.

"I'm so sorry!" he said, laughing nervously.

The man, tall and composed with a quiet, steady gaze, accepted Jet's hand, getting to his feet gracefully. Jet noticed the man's unbothered look, as if this small accident didn't faze him at all.

"No harm done," the man replied, his deep voice calm as still water. He handed Jet the runaway lantern, studying him briefly. "Are you alright? You seemed hurt."

Jet managed a quick, sheepish smile. "I'm fine—just a few scratches." He took the lantern, feeling a bit flustered. "Thanks. I really didn't want my wish floating away."

The stranger gave a faint nod. "It's beautiful to see them all rise together," he remarked.

"Yeah," Jet replied, sharing the quiet moment as he looked up at the glowing lanterns. "It is."

The man glanced at the lantern's surface, reading Jet's wish softly. "You wish to meet someone… benevolent?"

Jet pulled the lantern back, laughing. "Don't read it out loud!"

A faint smile appeared on the man's face. "I'm sorry," he murmured, clearly respectful of Jet's wishes.

Feeling a spark of curiosity, Jet offered his hand. "I'm Feng Jet."

The man paused, then accepted, his handshake warm and steady. "Zhao Han."

"Oh, and you have some leaves in your hair," Jet replied as he tried to sweep them off.

—-

There was no mistaking the scent that lingered in the air—Han's pheromones were unmistakably strong, radiating the presence of an Alpha. Zhao Han stood before Jet, a young Alpha of twenty, but not the type Jet was accustomed to. Most Alphas he'd known were born into privilege, like his own father. Han, however, wore the marks of a simpler life; his clothes were worn, a little rough around the edges, like those of the villagers. Yet, rather than feeling out of place, he carried a quiet strength, a sense of pride that drew Jet's attention.

For a moment, Jet forgot the differences in their worlds, feeling only a growing curiosity, a silent pull toward the person behind that steady gaze.

—-

"What does… benevolent mean?" Han asked, his voice low, his brow furrowed as he glanced back at the words on the lantern.

Jet turned, surprised for a moment, but then smiled softly. "It means 'kind' or 'good-hearted,'" he explained, his tone gentle and patient.

Han's expression softened, nodding slowly as he repeated, "Kind… good-hearted."

"Uncle!" a small voice called, breaking the moment.

Jet turned to see Meixuan running towards him, her face lighting up with delight.

"Hey there, little missy," Jet greeted, crouching down to her level. "Where are the others?"

"At the market, but I got bored, so I ran away to find you!" she replied with a mischievous giggle.

Jet's eyes widened as he realised his family would be worried if they noticed she'd wandered off. "Well then, want to see my lantern float?"

She nodded eagerly, watching as Jet carefully placed a new candle in his lantern. He held it up, waiting for the wind to catch, letting it float upward. As it began to rise, Han reached out, giving the lantern a gentle push, adding just enough stability to help it along.

Jet looked at him, a grateful smile spreading across his face. "Thank you," he said softly, letting the moment linger.

Then, taking Meixuan's hand, he began the walk back to the market, her little steps skipping alongside his. When they arrived, her family breathed a sigh of relief, their worry dissolving as they saw her safe with her uncle. Jet chuckled, feeling a sense of peace, yet his mind kept drifting back to the man he'd met tonight—a presence that felt strangely unforgettable, pulling him to go meet him again.

—-

The morning air was crisp and bracing, a cool mist rising from the lake as the water splashed gently against the rocks just outside Jet's study. The first light of dawn stretched over the horizon, tinting the sky with soft hints of gold and pink. Though early, his thoughts were already immersed in his next story, ideas swirling as he considered what his characters might experience in a moment like this.

Stepping out of his study, he made his way to the water's edge, where the land met the lake. Jet sat down on a smooth rock, gazing eastward as the sun began its slow ascent above the distant mountains. The clouds glowed with a radiant gold, and the waters mirrored the sky's brilliance. Autumn leaves, warm in shades of orange and yellow, danced on the wind, drifting over the rocks and rippling the lake's surface. It was a scene that seemed plucked from a dream.

'Beautiful', he thought, feeling his heart swell.

Pulling out his notebook, Jet began to write. He sketched the scene in words—the way the light shimmered on the water, the clouds' golden hues, the leaves swirling in the breeze. He tried to capture it through his main character's eyes, drawing on the awe he felt in this quiet, magical moment. 

Jet finished writing the scene before him before pausing, looking at what he'd written, feeling satisfied yet restless. The peaceful morning had brought calm to his thoughts, but something lingered, like a thread left untied.

He leaned back, staring at the rippling water. A thought crept in, uninvited, making him wonder about last night—the lanterns, the quiet excitement in the air. For a brief moment, he had felt different, like he was a part of something beyond himself. Maybe it was simply the magic of the festival, or maybe… maybe it was that he wasn't alone when it happened.

He shook his head, a faint smile touching his lips. 'What am I doing, getting lost in memories?'

He thought, tucking his notebook under his arm as he stood up. The world was beginning to stir awake with the light, but he felt strangely like he had left a piece of himself back there, on that hill.

With a final glance at the sun rising higher in the sky, Jet turned back toward his study. He didn't know what he was expecting—maybe nothing—but a small part of him hoped he might feel that sense of connection again, the one that made last night feel like it would never end.

When he stepped back inside to the living room, he saw his sister heading out, a cloak draped over her shoulders and a basket in hand.