Xiao Mu was thirteen—a quiet, introspective boy. He kept his emotions tucked away, never seeking attention, yet his eyes were unusually perceptive, always catching the details others missed.
One holiday, he accompanied his grandfather to a secluded Buddhist temple deep in the mountains. The temple was serene, its eaves draped in ivy, and the ancient bell in the tower seemed forgotten by time. Xiao Mu had no particular faith, but the atmosphere brought him a profound sense of peace—perhaps because there was only the sound of wind, and no noise of the world.
After the prayers, Xiao Mu wandered alone, admiring the temple's scenery. Beneath the bell tower, he looked up at the ancient bell. Carved feathers shimmered faintly in the sunlight. Near the base, he noticed a worn inscription—four barely legible characters: "Return to the willing heart."
He crouched down, trying to read it more clearly, and spotted a feather-shaped metal shard on the ground, seemingly fallen from the bell. As he picked it up, a strange weight settled in his chest—a sorrow he couldn't explain, as if the shard carried something long forgotten.
That night, Xiao Mu dreamed. He stood before the temple gates, the hall empty, yet the bell rang through the valley. No words, no visions—just a quiet loneliness within the sound. He awoke not afraid, but with the sense that something deep inside had been gently touched.
"That place… feels like it's waiting for something," he thought silently.