The other children only went near the burial hill when the sun was high.
Even then, they never crossed the halfway path.
Ling Chen never understood why.
The hill was quieter than the village, the wind softer, the grass gentler beneath bare feet. It was the only place where people stopped pretending to be strong. Even the loudest farmers spoke in whispers when climbing toward the graves.
Yet today, he hesitated.
He stood at the bottom of the slope, staring at the tall nameless tomb at the top. The morning was bright, but the stone looked darker than usual — as if the sunlight refused to touch it.
He had heard the voice again in his sleep.
Not words this time.
A feeling.
Recognition.
Like someone had been waiting a very long time and was relieved he finally returned.
Ling Chen swallowed and began climbing.
Halfway up, he noticed something strange.
There was no wind.
The trees below swayed, the distant wheat fields rippled like water… but the grass around the upper graves stood completely still.
He reached the ancient tomb.
Up close, it was far larger than any other grave. The stone was smooth despite its age, its surface worn but unbroken. Moss clung to its sides, yet the front face remained clean — as if rain and time avoided it.
Ling Chen slowly raised his hand.
For a moment he almost stepped back.
Then he touched it.
The world disappeared.
Not darkness.
Not light.
An endless sky filled with unfamiliar stars stretched above him. They were not the same constellations he saw every night. These stars moved slowly, drifting like thoughts rather than burning like suns.
And far away…
Something enormous slept.
He could not see it clearly. It was too large, too distant, yet he knew instinctively it was alive. Its breathing created ripples across the sky itself.
Then emotion struck him.
Not one emotion — thousands.
Grief so deep it felt older than mountains.
Loneliness vast as the ocean.
And beneath it all…
Relief.
The same feeling as before.
"You returned."
Ling Chen gasped and stumbled backward.
The hill snapped back into view. Wind returned. Birds chirped again.
He fell to the ground, breathing hard, heart pounding as if he had run miles.
The tomb stood silent.
No voice followed.
Yet his chest hurt — not physically.
He felt as if he had just remembered someone precious…
and forgotten them immediately after.
Ling Chen wiped his eyes and realized his cheeks were wet.
He didn't know why he was crying.