The days in the Village of Falling Winds flowed quietly, like the winding creek at the village entrance, smoothing out the furrows between Luo Ling’s brows from when he first arrived.
Life had finally begun to show a hint of stability on him.
Not long ago, after following faint clues through countless hardships, he had finally found Eve’s biological parents for her.
When the truth was revealed—when he learned that the girl who once laughed and played with him on the fields of the Village of Falling Winds, sharing a wheat cake, was actually the daughter of a distant Lord—Luo Ling’s heart rippled with complicated emotions, but what he felt even more was relief.
On the day they parted, Eve’s clear eyes were filled with sorrow, like grapes holding morning dew.
But in the end, she just pressed her lips together and waved to him, not saying a single word to make him stay.
Her understanding was like a thin needle, gently pricking Luo Ling.
Then, their life paths diverged, growing farther and farther apart.
Spring passed, autumn came, cold turned to heat and back again, and another year was etched into Luo Ling’s life.
Now, he was an eight-year-old boy.
Thinking back to when he first arrived at the Village of Falling Winds, he had been a child whose wary and confused gaze didn’t match his age, like a frightened young beast, alert to everything around him.
But now, he could already skillfully follow the most experienced Village Hunter, recognizing all kinds of herbs—which ones stopped bleeding, which reduced inflammation, and which were deadly poisons.
He had learned to set simple but clever traps in the Forest, based on the habits of different prey.
The mountain winds, carrying the freshness of grass and the rich scent of earth, brushed over him day after day.
The feelings of unfamiliarity and distance that once hung over his heart faded like morning mist in the sunlight, slowly melting away.
He was no longer just the “Luo Ling” burdened by fragmented, unclear memories, who often woke from nightmares in the night.
At least, during most of the days spent working at sunrise and resting at sunset, he was just an ordinary child of the Village of Falling Winds.
Like other village children, he earned a piece of honey candy for helping adults with farm work, played and chased others on the fields, and got his clothes torn by tree branches while raiding bird nests.
What Luo Ling enjoyed most was, after finishing a day’s work—whether helping Old Ha feed pigs or bundling dry firewood for the Blacksmith—running alone into the vast, endless Forest behind the village.
That Forest was his Secret Base, a place where he could drop all pretense and release himself freely—a silent extension of his inner world.
Every time he stepped beneath the green canopy formed by ancient towering trees, Luo Ling felt as if the whole world had gone quiet.
Sunlight struggled through overlapping, crisscrossed branches and leaves, scattering countless tiny, dappled spots of light—like twinkling stars—across the thick, soft carpet of fallen leaves.
He liked walking barefoot, feeling the gentle touch of the earth, listening to the soft “rustle” underfoot, a sound that seemed like a whisper in the silent Forest and brought peace to his heart.
The air was filled with a refreshing scent of moist soil, mixed with the subtle fragrance of unknown grasses and wildflowers.
With a deep breath, he felt cleansed inside and out.
Sometimes, a few brightly colored, unknown little birds would jump and play among the branches overhead, singing clear, crisp notes.
Those chirps, like the most beautiful melody written by nature, added life and vitality to the tranquil Forest.
Sometimes, he would find a sturdy old tree, sit with his back against its rough, warm trunk, close his eyes, and listen to the “whoosh” of wind through the leaves, the murmur of a distant creek, and his own steady heartbeat.
In these moments, the blurred fragments of memory he suppressed during the day would sometimes quietly surface—a flash of fire, a desperate scream, a pair of warm, indistinct hands…
But now, he no longer felt fear or confusion.
The Forest’s calm and acceptance, like a silent, wise elder, soothed him, telling him that the past was gone, and what mattered was the land beneath his feet and the life before his eyes.
Sometimes, he would bring his old Small Wooden Bow—the one a Village Hunter uncle had specially carved for him after noticing his interest—to practice aiming among the trees.
His movements were still a bit clumsy, but his gaze was sharp and focused, as if returning to the Luo Ling with an unusual past hidden beneath a calm surface.
He would chase squirrels through the woods, watching them leap among the branches and disappear into dense leaves.
He observed snails crawling slowly in the grass, marveling at the wonders of life.
He even stared at a tiny, unremarkable wildflower for half a day.
Here, he could be the carefree boy Luo Ling from the Village of Falling Winds, or the Luo Ling from afar, holding secrets deep in his heart.
The Forest was like a giant embrace, accepting all of him.
As the sun set, golden light wrapped the Forest in a warm halo.
At that time, Luo Ling would reluctantly say goodbye to his Secret Base, carrying the scent of earth and a heart full of peace, following the path back to the Village of Falling Winds and the rising smoke of evening cookfires.
His steps were steadier than when he came, his eyes clearer.
On such an ordinary afternoon, Luo Ling was leaning against a giant old tree, eyes closed, feeling the Forest breeze.
Suddenly, a rustling sound, mixed with a girl’s soft exclamation and the whimpering of a small animal, broke the silence from nearby.
He opened his eyes warily and looked toward the sound.
Near a bush, a little girl in a light green linen dress was squatting on the ground, seemingly trying to comfort something.
Her hair was braided into two plaits, hanging over her chest, and sunlight revealed the fine fuzz on her pale face.
Luo Ling hesitated.
Since Granny Wang passed away, he hadn’t been used to approaching others, especially village children, who sometimes kept their distance because of his quiet nature and the occasional foreign look in his eyes.
But the girl’s anxious whispers and the small animal’s pained whimpers wouldn’t let him ignore them.
He lightened his steps and walked over slowly.
“Are…are you okay?”
His voice was a bit dry, carrying the clarity unique to youth but also awkward from seldom speaking to others.
The girl jumped in surprise and spun around.
What clear, bright eyes—they held the purest spring of the Forest, with the wariness of a startled fawn, but even more surprise and kindness.
“Ah, it’s you again, Brother Luo Ling!”
She recognized him.
Her tense face immediately relaxed, and a sweet smile blossomed like the sun after rain, instantly dissolving the last bit of distance in Luo Ling’s heart.
“I’m fine. It’s Little Hua—he seems hurt.”
She pointed at the fluffy gray fox in her arms.
One of the fox’s hind legs was twisted unnaturally, and it was letting out low cries.
Luo Ling moved closer and looked carefully.
“I think its leg is broken.”
“But why did you come out here again?”
He frowned.
“What are you going to do?”
The girl pouted, her eyes reddening.
“I don’t know…I wanted to take him home, but Mother won’t let me keep animals, and he’s hurt so badly…”
Luo Ling was silent for a moment.
In the fragments of his “memory,” he seemed to recall some simple first aid knowledge.
“Maybe…I can try to fix it.”
“Really? Brother Luo Ling, you know how?”
The girl’s eyes instantly lit up, full of hope.
“I…I’m not sure, but I can try.”
Luo Ling spoke as he began searching for suitable materials nearby.
He found several sturdy twigs and tore a relatively clean strip from his own clothing.
Then, he signaled for the girl to hold the little fox steady, keeping it from moving.
His movements were gentle, carrying a steadiness beyond his years.
He carefully aligned the broken bone, used the twigs as a splint, and wrapped them tightly with the cloth.
The whole time, the little fox trembled in pain but remained unusually quiet, as if understanding the boy was helping it.
The girl held her breath, watching him with nervous awe.
“All done,”
Luo Ling let out a breath and wiped the sweat from his forehead.
“Keep it still, and maybe it’ll heal over time. But…it needs a safe place to rest, and food to eat.”
The girl nodded hard, hugging the little fox, her eyes determined.
“I know a hidden cave nearby. I can secretly bring him food every day! Thank you, Brother Luo Ling!”
She lifted her face, her smile bright.
Eve…
Luo Ling silently repeated her name in his heart, feeling as if a warm pebble had been dropped into his calm lake, sending ripples outward.
He watched the girl cradle the little fox and walk carefully into the depths of the Forest, that small figure becoming the brightest splash of color in the green sea.
From that day on, Luo Ling’s solitary moments in the woods were no longer filled only by wind and birdsong.
Eve had blown into his world like a lively breeze.
From then on, the Forest held the footprints of two children.