The fire crackled softly, small and uncertain against the heavy night. Its light painted faint orange circles on the damp ground, just enough to show the outline of two tired faces. Jian Wu sat still, eyes half-closed, while Mei Xue crouched beside the flames, rubbing her hands near the warmth that barely reached them.
They hadn't spoken for a while. The only sound was the fire and the faint rustle of mist crawling through the trees. It clung to their robes, cold and damp, carrying the smell of soil and stone.
Finally, Mei Xue broke the silence. "You've been quiet since we left the valley."
Jian Wu looked up, his voice low. "Sometimes silence is the only thing that listens."
She frowned at him. "That's not an answer."
He smiled faintly, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Then maybe I don't have one."
For a moment, the world felt frozen. The flames bent under a passing breeze, flickering wildly, and Mei Xue turned her head toward the dark forest. "It's strange," she murmured. "I keep thinking the mist is following us."
"It is," Jian Wu said, almost absentmindedly. "But not in the way you think."
She hesitated. "Then how?"
"The valley doesn't let go easily. It remembers those who hear it."
His tone made her shiver. She wanted to say something, but instead reached for the kettle by the fire and poured water into two small cups. Her hands shook slightly, and a drop spilled onto the ground, hissing as it hit the embers.
"You're talking like that place is alive," she said.
Jian Wu looked at the rising steam, his reflection trembling in the water. "Maybe it is."
He took a sip, then set the cup down slowly. "I felt something in that stone, Mei Xue. It wasn't just power. It was… memory. Someone else's memory."
Her eyes widened. "You mean.."
He shook his head. "I don't know yet. But it knew me before I knew myself."
The fire dimmed, and the mist thickened again. Somewhere far off, a single owl called once and went silent. The world seemed to be holding its breath.
Mei Xue leaned closer to the fire. "If that place remembers, then what happens when it starts to forget?"
Jian Wu didn't answer. His gaze drifted to the shadows beyond the firelight. The fog there moved differently, slower, heavier, almost like it was breathing.
He stood up suddenly. "Stay here."
"Jian Wu, wait.."
But he was already walking toward the edge of the light. The mist curled around his feet, brushing against him like fingers trying to hold him back.
He whispered, more to himself than anyone else, "You followed me, didn't you?"
The fog rippled. Shapes began to form, faint silhouettes moving within it. One stepped forward, and Mei Xue gasped. It had Jian Wu's shape. The same height. The same stance. Even the same calm expression, except its eyes were completely white.
Jian Wu didn't move. He just stared at it. "So this is what the valley remembers…"
The figure tilted its head, mirroring him perfectly. Every breath he took, it followed. Every twitch of his hand, it echoed.
Mei Xue's voice shook. "That's not possible…"
He whispered back, "Neither was walking a path without a core."
The mist figure suddenly stepped closer, its feet making no sound. Jian Wu raised his hand slowly, palm open. The air between them shimmered faintly.
Then the fog shape dissolved, collapsing into a thin stream of smoke that rushed straight into Jian Wu's chest. His body jerked, his aura flaring for a heartbeat before vanishing again.
Mei Xue ran to him, gripping his arm. "What happened?"
He blinked once, breathing unevenly. "It remembered me too well."
His eyes looked normal, but for a brief second, the flame reflected something else in them, the faint shimmer of another gaze staring back.
Mei Xue tried to speak, but the wind rose again, carrying the mist higher. The fire sputtered, nearly dying out.
Jian Wu turned to the forest beyond them. Somewhere in the distance, a deep rumble rolled through the night not thunder, but something waking beneath the ground.
"The storm's coming," he said softly.
Mei Xue swallowed. "Then what do we do?"
He looked at her, his expression unreadable. "We keep walking. The path won't wait."
The fire went out. The night closed in around them, thick and quiet.
And far behind, in the heart of the valley, the stone
eye opened once more, glowing faintly, as if it had just learned how to dream.