"I forgot to tell you—between us, there is no parting, only intersection."
After saying this, he set sail once more, heading into the distance without a backward glance.
This time, the small figure did not look back.
The tiny boat drifted farther and farther away across the glittering surface of the water.
A trail of white spray stretched out from Mo Ling's feet, reaching into the distance and plunging straight into the horizon where the sea met the sky.
Just as the small figure had said, there was no parting, only intersection.
They were never two parallel lines.
In that moment, Mo Ling felt as if he, too, were sailing into the distance, following that trail of spray.
The boundary between the blue sky and the sea was blurred by the shimmering light, but Mo Ling could faintly sense that the line wasn't unreachable. It seemed to be waiting for him, not far away.
As long as the trail of spray kept extending forward, it was bound to intersect with that line.
