The morning mist lingered low in the valley, soft and pale against the wooden rooftops. Smoke from cooking fires curled into the sky, carrying the faint scent of millet porridge and freshly baked bread. Somewhere beyond the fields, a rooster crowed, and the day began as it always did—unhurried, steady, like the village itself.
"Xiao Xi, you're up early again."
Auntie Shen's voice came warm and teasing as she stepped out from her doorway, her cheeks flushed from the stove's heat. She held a cloth bundle in her hands, its corners darkened with steam. "Didn't you eat enough last night? A boy like you can't just drink porridge and call it a meal!"
Lan Xi stood quietly on the path, a broom still resting against the wall behind him. He lowered his gaze, lashes brushing his cheek, and offered her a small nod.
Auntie Shen only laughed, shoving the bundle into his hands. "A'Xi, you're too polite for your own good. Here—eat while it's hot."
The buns were heavy with warmth, fragrant with meat. Lan Xi accepted them carefully, his slender fingers curling around the cloth as though it were something precious. He inclined his head once more, the quiet gratitude in his eyes clear enough that words weren't needed.
Down the slope, children's laughter rose. A cluster of small figures raced toward him, their voices bright and eager.
"Xiao Xi-ge! Come play!"
They tugged at his sleeves before he could answer, pulling him along toward the open square where a few lazy cats sprawled across sunlit stones. The little ones crouched, chasing tails and dangling bits of string, their giggles ringing sharp and clear. Lan Xi stood nearby, silent as always, watching with a gentleness that softened his usually still face.
A glimmer of light caught his eye. Slipping away from the noise, he followed the narrow path to the river. The water ran shallow this time of year, its surface trembling under the breeze. He crouched at the edge, gazing down.
The reflection that looked back at him was pale and unfamiliar, blurred each time a ripple passed. He tilted his head slightly, as though studying a stranger. Was he ever someone beyond this? The thought came quietly, and just as quietly it sank beneath the water, leaving only silence behind.
Suddenly, a weight landed on his back.
"Xiao Xi!"
One of the children had leapt onto him, peering over his shoulder to see what held his attention. Together they looked at the rippling water, two faces side by side—one young and round with mischief, the other calm, unreadable.
The child laughed at his own reflection before turning to Lan Xi. "Xiao Xi-ge is so pretty."
The words were innocent, said with the simple honesty only children could have. Lan Xi blinked, startled for a breath, then lowered his lashes. He said nothing, but his hand rose gently to steady the boy on his back.
Behind them, the other children called out, still chasing cats along the path. The sun caught the water's surface, scattering their reflections into shimmering fragments. Lan Xi's stayed broken, impossible to piece together—yet in the midst of it all, he remained, silent as ever, quietly holding on.
Lan Xi's lips curved at last, the child clinging to his back caught it instantly, his own grin blooming wide as if he'd just won something precious.
Lan Xi rose slowly, adjusting his hold so the boy's arms stayed looped securely around his neck. The child bounced a little with excitement, his laughter ringing out over the rippling water.
"Let's go, Bao'er," Lan Xi said softly, his voice low but clear.
"Mm! Let's go, let's go!" the boy echoed, kicking his heels against Lan Xi's sides like a proud little rider.
The commotion drew the others over. A few of them tugged at Lan Xi's sleeve with eager faces.
"Me too! I want a turn on Xiao Xi-ge's back!"
"Why does Bao always get to go first? It's not fair!"
Their voices tumbled over one another, full of envy and laughter. Lan Xi glanced at them, his smile still faint but his eyes gentler than the sunlight on the river. He shifted the boy on his back and crouched a little, making it easier for the others to clamor around him.
Soon, the quiet young man who rarely spoke found himself surrounded by small hands, all reaching for him as if he were the safest place in the world.
Their laughter carried through the fields long after the sun had begun to dip behind the mountains. By the time the children finally let him go, the village square was steeped in orange light, shadows stretching long across the dirt road.
Lan Xi walked them back one by one, a child clinging to each of his hands, another perched proudly on his back. Mothers called from doorways, scolding lightly, yet their eyes softened when they saw the quiet young man guiding their little ones home.
"Thank you, Xiao Xi."
"You've worked harder than us parents."
He only shook his head faintly, offering them the same silent smile before retreating down the narrow lane toward his own small room.
By the time night settled over the village, lanterns flickered in windows, and the sound of chatter drifted through the walls of nearby houses. Inside his own room, however, it was still. The single lamp burned low, casting his shadow against the wooden wall.
Lan Xi sat by the window, knees drawn slightly up, a slender bamboo flute resting in his hands. For a long time, he simply held it, his thumb brushing the smooth surface as though coaxing out a memory. Then, slowly, he raised it to his lips.
The first notes slipped into the night—soft, uncertain, like a whisper carried on the wind. Outside, the village was alive with warmth and voices, but here the sound of his flute was thin, almost fragile, weaving through the silence as though searching for something it could not reach.
His eyes lowered, lashes casting shadows across his pale skin. He played quietly, the melody neither cheerful nor sorrowful, but carrying a kind of distance—like water flowing beneath ice, like a voice forgotten too long.
—
A soft knock at the door pulled Lan Xi from his quiet thoughts. He stood and opened it.
Mi Yu stood there, hair tangled from the day's wanderings, clothes streaked with dust and mud, yet somehow she still radiated that careless charm that always made her impossible to overlook.
"You're still looking good," she said, grinning, a hint of mischief in her voice. She had been shadowing him since she was a child, always curious why he never seemed to change, but she didn't care as long as he was safe and well.
Lan Xi's lips lifted in a faint, quiet smile. He stepped aside and let her in, closing the door behind her. She dropped onto his bed with a soft thud, lollipop in hand, eyes bright as ever.
He sat beside her, still and calm, letting her energy fill the room. After a moment, she glanced over her shoulder, voice teasing but edged with a trace of concern.
"You really don't plan on ever leaving here, do you?"
He remained quiet, only giving her a small, subtle smile.
She sighed, a little embarrassed, turning her back to him. "You can't keep letting yourself carry all this… you know it shouldn't stop you from seeing more of the world."
She shifted closer to him, hesitant. "How about tomorrow morning—you come with me to the city? Just for a short trip to get some groceries."
Lan Xi tilted his head slightly, closing his eyes for a moment, and gave a calm smile. "It'll be fine," he said softly, politely declining.
Her eyes widened, and she let out a frustrated laugh, turning toward him again. "It wont! That's why I'm insisting. You need to see what's out there at least once."
He gave another quiet smile, letting her words settle.
She bit the lollipop, fidgeting, her cheeks pink. "Hah… I probably shouldn't have said so much. My mom told me to ask anyway… but I should get going now before it's too late."
At the door, she hesitated, hand on the handle. "I wanted to help too, so… I'll go with you, just to make it easier."
With a small wave, she slipped out, the door clicking shut behind her. Lan Xi stayed where he was, the calm of his room settling back around him, the faint sweetness of her presence lingering in the air.