As Taifeng. stared into the delicate swirl of crimson in his wine glass, a strange serenity settled over him—one he hadn't known in years, maybe lifetimes. The soft clink of glass, the muted hum of the evening, it all felt like a prologue to something momentous. Who would've imagined that the day he was reborn, he had wandered like a dazed fly caught in a storm, his mind a blur of questions and shadows?
But he had endured. He had sculpted his darkness into strength, stitched together the tattered edges of his soul with quiet resilience. And now… now the moment had arrived.
She was coming.
Not just into this country—but into his hu story, his silence, his fire.
And Taifeng knew, as surely as the night cloaked the stars, that nothing would ever be the same again.
Controlling the tremble in his throat, Taifeng tipped the glass back, letting the last drop of wine burn its way down. Only a faint trace remained—a whisper of crimson clinging to the glass, like the fading echo of a memory that refused to let go.
Soon, even that would vanish.
Just like she did.
His fingers trembled as he set the glass down, his composure cracking in the quiet. Silent tears traced the sharp lines of his face, falling freely, unannounced. No sobs, no gasps—just a quiet unraveling.
In his mind, the image returned with merciless clarity: her face bloodied, yet smiling… her lips parting for one final breath as if to say don't forget me.
And he never did.
It was a memory that bled every time he blinked.
At the same time, thousands of miles away in M Country, a girl with cinnamon-hued hair stepped forward toward the immigration counter, her passport held firmly in her hand. But this wasn't just any passport—it bore the emblem of authority, an official diplomatic document that set her apart from the sea of ordinary travelers. She walked with the grace of someone used to attention, used to weighty secrets.
But just as she reached the checkpoint, a sharp pain struck her chest.
She staggered slightly, one hand clutching at her heart, breath caught like a bird in a snare. The world blurred for a moment, sounds fading as her heartbeat thundered in her ears. It was happening again.
This strange pain—this suffocating ache—had haunted her for months now.
Ever since the dreams began.
Dreams of a faceless man weeping, his voice breaking as he called her name through an endless night. She could never see his face, but his sorrow felt like it belonged to her. Every time she awoke, her pillow was damp with tears she didn't remember shedding. And always—always—there came the crushing pain in her chest, as if her heart were mourning something her mind had forgotten.
She blinked away the haze, straightened her spine, and stepped forward.
Something was pulling her. Somewhere. To someone.
And deep down, she knew—this trip was no coincidence.
Once the sharp ache in her chest dulled to a quiet throb, she took a steadying breath and glanced down at her passport. The golden crest shimmered faintly under the airport lights, a reminder of duty, destiny, and the life she was about to step into.
With composed elegance, she boarded the plane bound for S Country—the place where her new journey would begin, where her career, and perhaps something far deeper, waited for her.
She found her seat and settled in, the hum of the aircraft a soothing rhythm beneath her thoughts. As she fastened her belt and looked out the window, a soft, hopeful smile curved her lips—gentle, radiant, and full of quiet strength.
That smile didn't go unnoticed.
A few fellow passengers, caught by the warmth in her expression, returned the gesture with admiring nods or shy smiles of their own. She didn't notice—her thoughts were already soaring ahead, toward a future she couldn't yet name… and a man she didn't yet remember.