NIGHT, IN A GARDEN The mysterious girl — Zhu Ying — ran until she gasped for breath, putting distance between herself and the figure that looked exactly like her sister Xixi.
Her chest felt tight, as if wounds that had festered for a thousand years had just been torn open again.
Nightmares of a fallen palace, of the demon Chen Lie destroying everything, spun endlessly in her mind.
“I must not get close to her… If that demon rises again, and I make the same mistakes… I will hurt her too!” she whispered hoarsely, holding back tears that threatened to spill over.
Her strength finally gave out, and she stopped in the middle of a quiet garden.
This world was utterly foreign to her: buildings piercing the sky, streets glowing bright even in the dead of night.
Nothing resembled the palace or the open fields she had always known.
She walked slowly toward an iron bench and sat down, curling her shivering form inward.
A deep, aching longing wrapped around her heart — longing for her homeland, for a home filled with memories, and most painfully of all — longing for the sister who had always protected her.
Unconsciously, her hand touched her neck.
The white jade pendant still hung there, still felt warm against her skin.
The only thing she had carried across time: a gift from Sister Xixi, before everything fell apart.
“Zhao Xixi…” she called out softly, and at last tears spilled down her cheeks.
“Sister… where are you?
Are you well?
I miss you so much…” IN ZHUZHU’S APARTMENT Several blocks away, Zhuzhu suddenly woke up shivering slightly.
In the dim room lit only by moonlight, it felt as though someone was calling her name with a sorrow so deep it cut to the bone.
She did not hear it with her ears — she felt it directly in her chest.
“What is this…?” she whispered softly.
She stood up, drank some water, and then walked to the window.
The clock showed exactly two in the morning.
Ever since meeting that mysterious girl the night before, this strange feeling had never left her.
As if an invisible thread bound their fates together — yet she could not explain why.
“Who are you, really…?” she murmured, gazing toward the direction of the garden she could not see.
“If we meet again… I must ask you.” She let out a long breath and lay back down.
Curiosity still gnawed at her, but she knew she had work tomorrow.
Slowly she closed her eyes — yet the image of the girl in white hanfu never faded from her mind.