In the darkness, Fang Hong knew he could no longer pretend, but he remembered the promise he made and hesitated to turn around and explain.
After snickering for a while, Hilveld calmed down. Fang Hong couldn't see her bright eyes gazing into the pitch-black room, the clock ticking, the glass cabinet holding childhood dreams, and the quiet returning to the cabin.
Only the low murmur of the wind remained outside the window, branches scraping against the window panes, casting a strange shadow like claws reaching out.
The two leaned back to back, and she asked, "Can't sleep, Lord Captain?"
"A little."
"How much is a little?" Hilveld found it amusing.
"Quite a lot."
Fang Hong had no idea what he was answering. The dream of admiration confused him, or perhaps it was this unique setting that allowed the boy to silently listen to his own heartbeat.
But there was another softer heartbeat, intertwined with his.
