“O soul, come back to stillness and peace!”

Her mind throbbed the instant she recited the last line, and her grip on his hand tightened involuntarily. Shengsi tapped at her temple, the world suddenly spinning, causing the once swiftly drifting ghostly green butterflies to slow. Was she falling asleep?

“...Did I forget...”

Grandfather Li seemed to be saying something, but his words were indistinct, drowned by the palpitations in her head.

“Shengsi?”

She tried to open her mouth, but her tongue seemed to curl and refuse her. Had she gone mute? No words, no sound came out.

She even tried to shake her head, in the hope of steadying her vision, but it did nothing. Cold? Warmth? Even Chuanhu’s fingers, still interlaced with hers, had lost all sensation.

“...to mention... child...”

Her knees trembled as she forced herself to stand, but it felt as though her strength was being drained from within.

She had to get out of the tub.

It wouldn’t do for her to collapse in the same place as the wounded stranger!

Water dripped from her soaked dress as she stepped one foot out, then the other.

The pounding in her head grew louder, as if her veins were swelling, her thoughts on the verge of unraveling. Was this an aftereffect? It was a strange sensation, one that nearly made the floor seem to give way beneath her as she lowered herself, weak and unsteady, onto her knees.

She braced an elbow against the rim of the tub, turning her face toward the blurred countenance of Xie Chuanhu as she rested her head against her arm. She forced herself to breathe slowly, in a quiet attempt to ease the throbbing.

Dark, darker, and darker still.

Something began to seep from her wounded palm, as though creeping through her, tingling, fluttering deep within her veins. And as something left her, something strange and unfamiliar seemed to enter through the same wound. What was it? And how could she feel it so clearly?

Her eyelids slowly fell shut.

Before she knew it, within that darkness, she heard the whisper of the wind.

Then it brushed against her face with such warmth, a strange heat like sunlight filtered through early dawn, as it was settling gently upon her cheeks. Soft nudges touched her knees, as though the petals were grazing against her skirt. Her legs might have been drawn in… Was she kneeling?

Birds chirped in every corner, the song of the wind mellow, and the air carried the fragrance of earth, grass, and flowers.

It seemed she's somewhere far.

When she opened her eyes, there was a sea of green, where silk-like petals bloomed in hues from the palest blush to the deepest violet. Something stirred within her, as if this place, a lone pasture encircled by trees, might have once existed. Otherwise, there might indeed be a place like this.

If so, it felt unreal to her. 

About to force herself to stand, Shengsi’s gaze fell upon her skirt, such was of moonlight tone. When she touched it, it felt like soft silk, subtly pleated at that. Then, didn't it mean this wasn’t her black hanfu? That one was coarse, far less refined, nothing like this fabric of quiet luxury. How was she wearing—

Shengsi gulped as she quickly examined her upper garment.

It had the semblance of plum purple. Quite something rich and deep. Indeed, what's more beguiling was the wide, flowing sleeves far too elegant and far too noble to belong to her.

As she ran her hands over the fabric, as if to confirm it was real, her fingers brushed against something at her waist.

There was even a jade pendant!

In her hurried inspection, she went still. As the chirping continued, her hand slowly moved to her neck, but nothing rested there. Her pendant wasn’t in this dream?

Shengsi stood and looked around, but the sea of green and the surrounding forest suggested she was somewhere far.

Just where had she ended up?

The sky was a soft pastel orange, the sun like a round, golden flatbread, as if dusk was about to fall. It carried the same feeling as when she had gone to the Ziyou Graveyard to visit her aunt. It felt the same as being here. Though she wasn’t visiting the dead, but one who wandered.

For a while, she simply breathed. She wasn’t nervous, but she was lost. Somehow, it would’ve been better if Grandfather Li had guided her through this. She didn’t even have the slightest idea how she would find the soul, but perhaps it had something to do with how her blood was bound to his… Would she be led to Xie Chuanhu even if she wandered across the expanse, even into the deepest parts of the forest?

Still, she had to ground herself in the present.

She glanced at herself as the wind stirred her skirt.

“A noble’s hanfu…” she murmured to herself. She touched the jade pendant. “And an identity plaque.”

Shengsi walked forward, not knowing where to go, trusting the bond formed by the ritual. She only hoped to be guided by whatever would appear. On the other hand, this was his dream, one that seemed peaceful, yet isolated, like a world set apart. He might be somewhere alone within it. Therefore, she had the need to search for him with perseverance.

If so, where could he be?

There was a narrow path ahead, so she followed it, where trees loomed like towering figures. From their branches hung strips of white fabric, countless and shifting with the wind. She hadn’t noticed them before, but now that she looked closely, their placement appeared hauntingly beautiful to capture.

Shengsi didn’t dwell on it at first, but she recognized the meaning. It was believed by her ancestors that white signified mourning and grief. She wasn’t one to pry or dwell on such things, but Xie Chuanhu was someone she had saved, someone she had taken responsibility for. To see his dream shaped like this, why did something within her grow heavy?

Despite that, she continued walking quietly. 

The stillness of the surroundings didn’t disturb her.

Yet the more she saw, the more she felt a silent grief of her own.

Time had passed, unfortunately  for her. Eight years since her aunt died, and yet the pang in her chest was stripping her off of comfort. Perhaps that was why she could sympathize with this place, even if it wasn’t her own. 

However, when she saw light ahead, she abruptly halted.

A ray of the setting sun made her raise her hand to shield her eyes, one eye closing against the glare.

But when she saw what lay beyond, the stirring within her slightly lessen.

A massive tree stood ahead, three times taller than the others, with wooden steps spiraling upward. At its crown stood a small house with a thatched roof. It seemed she had found what she was looking for.

Yet her feet seemed to be stuck on the ground.

Shengsi held the jade pendant.

“Who are you in this dream, Shengsi?” she asked softly. “You know your role here is that of a noble… you’re not ignorant of that. But who am I meant to be?”

As she looked up at the treehouse, she hadn’t the faintest notion of how she should introduce herself.

In truth, Shengsi had already figured this out a while ago. This wasn't a measly dream, after all. It was a dream of a wandering spirit, who might indeed be wandering in some form of act, one that might even resemble the life he had before he was buried alive.

But who was this woman she happened to be impersonating?

A lover, perhaps. It would make sense that it'd be his lover, but if this lady wasn't, then what else. A mother would've been ridiculous, as it's implied that he had a single layer hemp when he was buried, and not as expensive as what the nobilities wore when they're dead. At most, it was a forced burial, one that implied death by being buried alive, with torment such as wounds carved deep into his flesh — event the scent of possible betrayal.

If she gave the wrong answer, what might befall could be somewhat bad.

That was where her unease lay.

To play the role of a noble… yet without knowing whose role it was, or how that person lived, would she eventually fail?

In the end, she found herself walking up the wooden stairs. As she climbed and reached the porch, she noticed an open door and a room filled with parchments, an inkstone, and calligraphy. Yet he wasn't there. Only a single bottle lay in the midst of the wooden floor. When she entered, she gave a quick glance to the entire setup, as if the whole place were just a mere treehouse, seemingly ransacked by the scattered objects.

Until her sparkly eyes fixed on the bottle.

Her lips parted slightly, intrigued.

As she picked it up for a closer look, a faint, shifting mist moved within it.

Within that haze, the vague silhouettes of a woman and a child appeared.

The lid was sealed. 

When she tried to open it, hoping to see more clearly—

Something happened before she could react.

The bottle devoured her.

Then it fell to the floor.