CHAPTER 19

Chapter 19: Red Rain and Lantern Flames (Part 2)

The sun had barely passed its peak, but the energy in Sujin Village was still climbing higher with every laugh, cheer, and thunderous beat of the festival drums. The villagers had barely caught their breath from the strength contests, when the next big event was announced.

"Time for the Crimson Toss!" a woman shouted from a platform, holding up a fat, juicy tomato.

The crowd erupted in cheers.

This was one of the most anticipated events of the Sujin Festival—a chaotic, hilarious and messy tribute to ancient farming traditions, now transformed into a massive tomato-throwing war between teams of villagers. The story went that long ago, a young village Alpha girl had pelted her crush with tomatoes to get his attention—and accidentally started a playful battle that became a yearly tradition.

Buckets and baskets of ripe red tomatoes were wheeled out to the center square. Women tied their hair, rolled up their sleeves, and grinned with wicked glee. Men nervously ducked behind them, knowing full well they'd be used as shields, weapons, or innocent victims in this tomato war.

Yue and her gang had already chosen their battlefield near the north end of the square. They had drawn war paint on their cheeks with tomato juice earlier and were crouched like warriors behind overturned fruit crates. Their opponents? The visiting city kids.

"Remember," Yue whispered like a commander. "No mercy."

"Agreed," Nana replied. "They disrespected our dumplings."

Mei loaded her first tomato like a cannonball. "Revenge!"

A whistle blew—and the chaos began.

Tomatoes flew in every direction, bursting on faces, clothes, and walls. Splatters of red painted the village square until it looked like a battlefield of ketchup. The crowd howled with laughter. Grown women chased their husbands with tomatoes, aiming for their softest spots. Some men tried to dodge; others simply fell over dramatically with a loud "AHH! I'm wounded!"

Yue leapt from cover, nailed a city girl in the chest, and rolled to safety.

"My shirt!" the girl gasped, stunned.

"Welcome to Sujin!" Yue called, blowing her a kiss.

By the time the tomato battle ended, everyone was dripping in red. The village smelled like salad—but no one cared. They laughed, licked their fingers, and wiped their eyes from all the laughter. Even Yue's dad, Li Jun, had gotten hit—right in the belly. He had yelped and then burst into laughter, clutching his tomato-covered baby bump while Shan Yue wiped him down.

"My poor son," she chuckled. "Even before birth, he's already been in a battle."

Li Jun just pouted. "You didn't even protect me, Shan…"

"I did! I got you from the front," she smirked. "It's not my fault your rear was exposed."

The laughter only grew louder.

Later that evening, the square was cleaned and transformed again. Red had given way to golden lantern light. Paper lanterns in every shape imaginable—birds, stars, wolves, peaches—floated in the air, held by strings or placed along the roads. The sun dipped beyond the trees as twilight settled in, and the gentle wind carried the scent of roasted chestnuts and steamed buns.

This part of the Sujin Festival honored the village ancestors, similar to what the older generation called the Suzu Oden, a mix of honoring spirits and celebrating life's warmth. It was also a time of togetherness.

Each family lit a lantern together, writing a wish on the side before releasing it into the river or sending it into the sky.

Yue sat with her gang by the lakeside. The city kids had joined them again, this time without any rivalry. They sat in a wide circle, each holding their own lantern.

One girl from the city, Hana, looked curiously at her glowing lotus-shaped lantern. "Do these really reach the ancestors?"

"Maybe," Yue replied with a shrug. "But even if they don't, it makes your heart feel lighter. That's what my dad said."

"My mom said," Fei added, "that the lanterns help guide good memories to the future."

"I'm just writing 'I want snacks forever' on mine," said a boy from the city, getting a laugh from everyone.

Yue looked at her own lantern. She had drawn a simple picture—her family, holding hands. Her dad with his belly, her mom with her strong arms, and herself in the middle, grinning. Below it, she wrote:

"Let us stay happy forever. And let the baby be healthy and cute, even if he cries too much."

With a gentle push, she set her lantern afloat in the lake. One by one, the others followed, and soon the dark waters shimmered with floating lights, like glowing flowers drifting peacefully through the night.

The bonfire roared to life in the center of the square again. Women began to dance in a wide circle, clapping and moving in graceful yet powerful steps, their hips swaying, their laughter echoing. The men sat at the side, clapping along, some playing soft instruments or singing love songs with blushing cheeks.

Yue pulled her gang into the circle, mimicking the adults but adding their own dramatic flair—spinning wildly or jumping out of beat just to get giggles from nearby kids.

"I'm a bird!" Nana declared, flapping her arms.

"You're a headless chicken!" Mei shouted, nearly tripping.

The city kids joined in, and soon it was a full ring of children dancing and laughing under the lanterns, around the fire, and under the stars.

Somewhere among the glow, Yue felt that strange stirring again in her chest. A whisper. A warmth. Her past life might have been filled with pain, but here, in this world—with messy tomato fights, glowing rivers, and warm laughter—she felt like she belonged.

The night stretched on.

And with it, so did the joy.