Ruins of Tian Cheng — Yulan

We stayed in the village of Fuhuashi for a few days, until I decided it was time to move on, as the journey across Tian Cheng would be pretty long.

We stayed one last night at Yuhua’s house, and when Himari and Meilin had settled in bed, Yuhua invited me for some baijiu.

“It’s been a while since we drank like this.” Yuhua smiled, pouring a glass of baijiu for me.

We had a brief conversation about what we missed in the past few years.

“So my dear sister had two daughters.” Yuhua looked as pretty as the day she left home, her smile as pretty as a peony. Unfortunately, we weren’t able to keep in touch, so we had a lot of catching up to do. “Look at you, all grown up. I can still remember the times Yuting scolded you for playing too roughly. I never thought you would want to raise children with your temperament.” She teased, sipping a glass.

“Once they wrap their tiny fingers around your hand, those painful months all become worth it.”

“I see.” Yuhua nodded, “You must’ve been a great mother. I’m very sorry for your loss.”

“It’s nothing.” I can’t believe it’s already been 4 years.

We then reminisced about the old days: playing in the garden with our siblings, being lectured by our parents. By the time we got to talking about Meilin, the night was almost spent.

“So,” Yuhua gazed at me with gentle, soft eyes, “You decided to go on a journey with Meilin. Interestingly, you are so determined to accompany the witch.”

The tips of my mouth turned upwards. “It might be weird, but I have a strong desire to protect both of them.”

“You mean Meilin and Himari? I guess Himari is indeed likable.” Yuhua grinned.

“They remind me of my dear Linhua and Fengxin…” I know that I won’t be reunited with Linhua or Fengxin, at least not in this life, but it felt reassuring that I met people so similar to them, almost like I was given a second chance to save them from their doom.

Yuhua hummed, “I see.”

We continued to sip our drinks in silence, admiring the beautiful view of the full moon.

The next morning, we set off from the village. Yuhua had insisted on giving Meilin, Himari, and me a complete glam look before letting us leave, saying that we should look as elegant and ravishing as possible on our journey.

“You sure you don’t want to stay in Fuhuashi with me?” Yuhua said as she dressed me up like a doll.

“I feel obliged to aid them on their journey.” They saved my Foster after all.

“Alright. It’s a shame I only got to see you for such a short time.”

Indeed. This reunion was too short, because we hadn’t seen each other in around 20 years. “After I finish the journey, I shall return to Fuhuashi.” I’m sure at that time it’ll be in full bloom, blossoming into a distinguished city.

“Alright. I’ll look forward to seeing you again.” Yuhua pulled me into a tight embrace.

We bid Yuhua farewell and left the vibrant and bustling village.

“Ms Yulan, you look glamorous in this dress.” Himari kept praising my outfit, despite wearing one similar to it herself.

“Same to you, Himari. You look stunning as well.”

Yuhua’s servants even gifted Haruki a set of clothing, even though he probably will never fit into one.

We journeyed around the ruins, where many familiar architectures caught my eye. A large archway loomed over us, with dragon patterns engraved on the pillars. “This is Longmen. The gate leads to the inner parts of the city.

Himari was very invested in Longmen, not hesitating to touch the rusty pillars, while Meilin and Haruki observed from a distance.

I wasn’t allowed out of the city as a child, and didn’t get to admire the scenery of the town from outside the gates. From what I heard, it was like shifting from one world to another, from the green, rural areas to the lively city, teeming with people of all walks of life.

Next, we ventured on to the Moon-Viewing Pavilion, a place where poets, scholars and nobles would get inspiration for poetry. It would also be used by commoners at the Full Moon Festival, where people admire the full moon's radiance.

Haruki and Himari built a camp for the night while Meilin and I contemplated the moon. It was a shame that the moon was partially covered by clouds on this particular night. “Back on Earth, we used to have festivals like the Full Moon Festival,” Meilin commented.

“Is that so?”

“We would play with lanterns and gaze at the moon. And my favourite part, mooncakes.” Meilin unwrapped a pack of snacks she got from Fuhuashi and began munching on them.

That does sound like the Full Moon Festival.

I can still remember the time our whole family first attended the festival. Fengxin was still a baby. I carried her in my arms, while Yongxin and Linhua hurried ahead. A few weeks prior, Yongxin brought Linhua to a workshop owned by an artisan who was specialised in making lanterns. They returned with the lantern Linhua brought to the festival, waving it up high so that everyone could see. The most memorable part of that day was that we thought we had lost Linhua. Turns out she had run off with the other children to the woods to compare which lantern glowed brighter.

The next morning, we arrived at the bridge of a thousand miles—Qianli Qiao. The view was stunning, as extraordinary as the time I first saw it. Beneath the bridge, a river flowed peacefully, its surface reflecting the sunlight. The bridge was coloured bright red, a festive colour. Plants around were unkempt and swirled around the rails of the bridge.

This bridge was primarily used for the Lantern Festival, where people hung lanterns on it, hoping for a prosperous year ahead.

I took Himari’s hand and said, “Let’s dance, Himari.”

I danced the usual dances my sisters had taught me. Meilin and Haruki’s eyes sparkled with anticipation. We danced at festivals to entertain guests, so even a rough girl like me had to be taught. Himari had danced a combination of ballet, hip hop, and modern dance moves.

“Whoa! You’ve got to teach me those dance moves of yours, Ms Yulan!” Himari exclaimed.

I gently guided her as we swirled around the bridge. Meilin clapped along, and Haruki purred in glee. It’s been a while since I’ve been so happy.

Soon, the joyful atmosphere of dancing was replaced by the mystery of the next place, a bamboo grove. Rumor was that the mysterious whispers of the bamboo were the voices of our ancestors.

As we entered the grove, an unsettling feeling lay in my stomach.

Suddenly, the whispers no longer sounded like ancestors—they felt like warnings.

When we hadn't ventured too far into the woods yet, a massive pack of monsters approached us.

I knew it.

“Hand over the wish orb.” Their leader growled.

So they were after that all along?