Moonlit Lakeside Park
The lake shimmered faintly under the moonlight, the water rippling whenever the breeze stirred its surface. A row of squat, knee-high stone pillars marked the boundary between the walkway and the embankment, cold and smooth from years of weathering.
Xi Jiayi sat perched on one of them, legs crossed, her posture relaxed as though she had all the time in the world. Her fingers toyed with a pebble before flicking it outward.
Plop.
The pebble disappeared into the water, rings of ripples spreading wider, swallowing the moon's reflection before it pieced itself together again.
She picked up another stone, her movements unhurried.
Plop. Plop.
Every throw looked careless, but each stone landed in the lake with uncanny accuracy, breaking the surface right at its center.
Driver Ke, standing a few paces behind, glanced at her quietly. She had been coming here every day for the past few days, and each time, she did the exact same thing—perched on the pillar, tossing pebbles, staring at the water.
He still didn't understand why, and though he had asked once, she had given nothing but a small, unreadable smile.
The park around her was alive with people—couples whispering hand-in-hand, families dragging reluctant children, joggers pounding the pavement with steady rhythm. Yet it was as if a line had been drawn around her. No one came near.
She looked detached, almost unreal under the scattered streetlamps, her loose hair catching the faint glow, her face a study in sharp angles and quiet indifference. Against the silver light, she seemed untouchable, as though she didn't belong to the same world as the people passing by.
Two joggers passed by, whispering.
"Pretty, isn't she?"
"Pretty scary, more like. Look at her face—cold enough to freeze you."
Xi Jiayi didn't even glance their way, her gaze locked on the dark lake.
A group of young men walked by next, slowing when they noticed her. One of them, cheeks burning, nudged his friends before stepping forward.
"H-hey… miss," he stammered. "Can I know your name?"
Xi Jiayi finally turned her head. For a second, her lips curved—like she might actually answer. Then she closed her palm.
Crunch.
The pebble inside crumbled to dust, slipping between her fingers.
The boy's eyes widened. "I—sorry! My mistake!" He bolted back to his friends, who burst into nervous laughter.
One of them muttered, "Idiot. Told you not to."
"Man, she's not normal."
Xi Jiayi picked up another stone as if nothing had happened.
"Miss Xi."
The calm, even voice broke through the quiet. Driver Ke stood a few paces away, hands behind his back, his expression polite but firm. "It's getting late. We should head back."
Xi Jiayi's fingers stilled. The pebble slipped from her grasp and dropped harmlessly at her feet. She brushed her palms clean, then slid gracefully from the pillar, her hair swaying with the motion.
Without a word, she fell into step toward the car idling at the edge of the park.
As they neared the exit, rows of small stalls lined the path—candied fruit, cheap toys, second-hand trinkets glowing beneath dim lamps.
Among them sat an old woman, her stall cluttered with incense, faded cards, and crystal beads that caught the light. Her clothes were layered and colorful, gypsy-like, her eyes sharp beneath the shadow of her scarf.
The woman's voice rang out, oddly clear in the night air. "Little girl," she called, her gaze locked on Xi Jiayi, "do you want a reading? I can see your path."
Driver Ke frowned. "Miss Xi, don't bother—"
But Xi Jiayi had already stopped. She turned her head slightly, gaze resting on the old woman. Neither warm nor hostile—just unreadable.
The woman smiled, lifting a deck of cards. "A glimpse of tomorrow. Just one draw?"
Xi Jiayi looked for a second longer, then turned away without a word and stepped into the car.
The vehicle rolled out, headlights sweeping across the path.
Left behind, the old woman chuckled softly. "She'll come back," she said to no one in particular. "Definitely."