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For an instant, Ningshun entertained the idea of speeding toward the oncoming train. "Oh, yes..." A naughty smirk twisted his lips. "You'd love this, wouldn't you?" Gritting his teeth, he rushed toward the tracks at maximum speed as time slowed around him.
The railway crossing lights flashed red, and warning bells clanged to slow his speed. The ground beneath his tires trembled in anticipation of the impending danger.
There it was—the silhouette of the train hurtling toward him. The world fell silent, except for the roar of the train's wheels ripping through the tracks. Every fiber of his being screamed to let go and end his suffering, all in a split second. As the train's silhouette grew larger, the deafening noise rumbled, drowning out everything else. His heart raced, adrenaline surging through him, but he pressed on, the train's roar blending with his engine's thunderous growl.
As he closed the gap and drove alongside the train, his emotions erupted. He screamed into the wind at the top of his lungs. "YOU JERK! YOU THINK I'LL BEND TO YOUR NARROW-MINDED IDEALS? SCREW YOUUUUU!"
The train roared past in a blinding rush of metal and light, the force of its passage jolting his bike. His motorcycle wobbled, but he fought to maintain control as the train's thunder faded into the distance, leaving him alone with his racing heart.
He pulled the bike to a stop, his grip loosening on the handlebars. His breathing came in harsh, ragged bursts, the adrenaline still coursing through him.
Ningshun sat on the bike, gazing at the empty tracks stretching into the darkness. The train's roar subsided, replaced by a deep, uneasy silence that echoed in his chest. "I should head back to the dorm. There's nothing for me here... nothing for my... life." With a final glance at the railway, he turned the bike around.
Meilin sat in the dorm's training room, deep in thought as the game's welcome screen loaded. The monitor's glow highlighted the beads of sweat glistening on her brow while images of dark entities swirling in the fortune-teller's tent haunted her—flipping the tarot and oracle cards as the woman shuffled.
'I can't sleep... I just can't! Am I losing my mind?'
She sighed as the loading screen vanished, opening the game. Selecting Zayn, her main champion, she leaned back in her gaming chair, which creaked under the movement. The memory of today's disappointing practice session surfaced, and she scoffed, her hand hovering over the keyboard. The shifting RGB lights lit up her fingertips as she adjusted her grip on the keys and grabbed the mouse.
'I need to do better, be better. I can't afford to make newbie mistakes.'
As Ningshun approached the dorm, he came to a screeching halt, the bike's tires squealing against the asphalt. He killed the engine with a flick of his wrist in the quiet courtyard, his mind clearer than it had been in hours.
Entering the dorm, he strode through the dark hallway. 'I'll forget about it in the morning... probably.'
"Don't show up... and you'll find out," his father had said.
He clenched his fist, but the image of his mother's helpless face burned in his mind. 'God, what have I done...? I hate myself. She needed me, and I... just walked away.' He sank to the floor and leaned against the wall, burying his face in his hands. "Why can't I do anything?" he whispered, his body trembling.
Turning his head, a faint light beneath a nearby door caught his attention, giving the hallway floor a soft glow. Curious, he approached the light and pushed the door open, making no noise.
There she was—Meilin, engrossed in her game, her fingers moving with speed over the keyboard, her eyes locked on the screen.
'That mistake today really got to her.' Ningshun turned away, shoulders slumping as he rubbed his temples. 'Now, I can't—'
"God, please don't let me fail again..." Her voice trembled, tears threatening to spill as she sniffed.
His steps faltered, and he froze for a moment, a heavy breath escaping him. 'What should I do?' Torn, he shifted his gaze between his bedroom and the training room.
"Why can't I do anything?"
Recalling his earlier words, he forced his trembling legs into motion and entered the training room. Leaning against the doorframe, he cleared his throat. "Pulling an all-nighter, I see."
Startled, Meilin jumped in her seat, her fingers slipping off the keyboard. Her eyes, wide and rimmed with fatigue, met his. "N-Ningshun, you're here!"
He stepped into the room, approaching her. "What are you doing here so late?"
She pushed back a strand of hair that clung to her damp forehead. "I... I needed to practice more. Couldn't sleep."
He frowned as he took in her pale complexion, the dark circles under her eyes, and the tremor in her hands. "Yes, practice makes perfect, but you won't accomplish anything by losing sleep."
She gave a weak smile, her half-closed eyes still glued to the screen. "I know, but I have to keep up. I don't want to fall behind."
Shaking his head, he moved closer until he stood by her chair. "You're already incredibly skilled, Meilin. You don't need to push yourself so hard."
"I just need to be perfect at—"
"Stop."
"But I—"
Ningshun turned her chair around and knelt, his face inches from hers as he gripped the armrests. "Meilin, accept the fact that you'll never be perfect—not in anything, not even at this game. In this career, you need to suck it up and fake it till you make it."
His words settled like a brick in her heart, forming a lump in her throat. She swallowed hard, struggling to hold back tears, her gaze dropping yet unable to escape the depth of his steady eyes. "Okay..."
Ningshun's eyes widened, the color draining from his face as he caught the wetness in her eyes. His hands trembled on the armrest, and his shoulders slumped. His eyes turned away for a moment, and he ran a hand through his hair before his softer gaze fell back on her.
"Meilin, I... I'm sorry if I sounded harsh, but you need to understand that nobody is perfect. People fail all the time... I haven't mentioned this before, but we're incredibly lucky to have you on our team. Many don't even get a chance to be where you are, but you impressed the coach! That means something, right?" His voice softened as he tilted his head, closing the distance between their faces. "Please, have more confidence. Don't do this to yourself."
She blinked, her eyes softening as the tension in her shoulders eased. She let out a gentle sigh, a soothing warmth spreading through her. Her lips curved into a tender smile as the anguish in her eyes lifted. "You know... I almost got mad at you."
A knowing grin spread across his lips, his voice teasing. "You really think you could be mad at this face?"
Catching sight of his mischievous expression, she could not hold back her giggle. It bubbled out of her, light and contagious, and he chuckled along with her, their eyes locked at close range.
With their faces mere inches apart, the space between them crackled with a different energy. Ningshun's usual composure wavered, his heart racing from the intensity of their closeness.
Their playful banter shifted to something deeper as they remained there, lost in each other's gaze. The world outside vanished, leaving only their shared moment.
Meilin's eyes, with their haunting darkness, drifted to his lips. The curve of his mouth pulled at something deep inside her before she snapped back to his mint-green eyes, where she caught a few tiny blue dots. Emotions churned like a storm in her chest as a whisper escaped her lips. "Ningshun..."
He swallowed hard, the dryness in his throat almost unbearable. "Yeah?"
"Um, thanks... for the pep talk."
He cleared his throat, a strained chuckle escaping as he took a step back, distancing himself from the intensity of her dark, foxy eyes that reached into the windows of his soul. "Just doing my job."
"As always," she teased, yet caught a glimpse of an enigma pulling at her, hiding behind his drowsy eyes and encouraging smile. "Oh God. That reminded me... Han said he couldn't get to you, and I... I was so caught up in my own mess that I forgot to call you... I'm so sorry."
"Don't worry about it." His voice dropped to a low murmur, the words almost hesitant as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry I made you worry; I had to—"
"Are you okay? You look... tired."
His eyes met hers, and for a moment, they lingered—searching, uncertain as his fingers brushed against the edge of his sleeve. "Yeah, I'm fine," he muttered as his eyes shifted to the side, the corners of his mouth twitching into a forced smile. "It's just family stuff."
"Oh, family related, I see... I'm sorry, I'm not really equipped with the best advice for that..." Meilin offered a sheepish smile, her gaze drifting to a distant point as a shadow passed over her features. "But I want you to know that I'm here for you, no matter what, Ningshun." Her voice soft, reaching through the space he had tried to create.
Speechless, every fragment of his facade shattered, falling away to reveal stark, unguarded emotion. His eyes locked onto hers, a warm glow reflecting in their tender softness, hinting at something deeper, conveying what words could not.
Her hand rested on his upper arm, fingers curling with a tender touch against his skin. "Ever since I met you, you've been here for me. You don't know how afraid I was when I first got here... but you made me laugh, made me comfortable, and had my back in front of the coach—and even now... It's time for me to do the same for you."
His gaze dropped to her hand, taking in the delicate curve of her fingers and the warmth of her palm against his skin. "I... Thank you for not asking any questions."
She offered a soft chuckle. "I trust you."
He arched his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"
"I know you have struggles too. You just hide them better... And if you don't want to talk about them, you don't have to, but I'm not going anywhere."
He gazed at her, his mouth parting as he tried to form words, the warmth of her touch settling deep within him. "I... I haven't felt this feeling in a while."
Meilin's eyes widened as she searched his. "What feeling?"
Ningshun cleared his throat, his voice steadying. "Comfort... safety..."
She could not help but smile. 'He's so cute. I just want to give him a hug!' Her heart raced, forcing a casual tone. "So, um, why did you come home so late?"
He paused, his gaze lingering on her large eyes. "Just needed some time to... blow off some steam, so I went for a walk."
"And... did it help?"
"Not really." Leaning closer with a faint smile, his voice lowered, eyes roaming over her face. "But seeing you here... that's definitely helping."
Her breath caught, a blush coloring her cheeks as her heart skipped a beat. "Wow, and the old Ningshun is back again!" She chuckled, though her laughter trembled a bit. She tried to push herself up but sank back into her chair. "Okay, you can let go now."
"Only if you promise me something."
Meilin raised an eyebrow. "Promise you what?"
"That you'll go to sleep right after."
Lost in the stars of his gaze, she gave a slow nod, her face softening as her voice dropped to a whisper. "Okay, I promise."
"Good." His eyes rested on her, the warmth in them holding a moment longer before he straightened up and turned toward the door. Just as he reached it, he threw a final glance over his shoulder, a soft smile on his lips. "Goodnight, Meilin."
"Goodnight, Ningshun," she murmured as the door creaked shut. "Ningshun!" Her breath caught as she sprinted to the door and flung it open, only to be met by the hallway's darkness. "Ningshun... thank you again."
She closed the door, replaying his words, her heart swelling with warmth. With a sigh, she turned off her computer and headed to bed, the earlier conversation lingering in her mind.
'You put aside your own troubles to comfort me... Ningshun, I don't know how bad your situation is. I feel that you're in pain, but you're acting like you're not.' Meilin turned away, her face bathed in the soft glow of moonlight. 'I hope you'll open up to me. I want... I want to be here for you, too.'
Ningshun lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. The dim light from the streetlamp outside cast shadows across his room.
'Father won't leave me alone if I don't go.'
He closed his eyes, trying to push the worries away, but sleep eluded him.
'What should I do tomorrow?' A long sigh escaped his lips, groaning, "Ah, I don't know it anymore. I'm too tired for this..."
He turned onto his side, his mind drifting back to Meilin. He recalled the warmth of her hand on his arm and the sincerity in her eyes. Her trusting and caring gaze pierced through the chaos in his mind.
Her soft voice and steady support replayed in his mind, easing the tension in his face. "Ever since I met you, you've been here for me. You don't know how afraid I was when I first got here... but you made me laugh, made me comfortable, and had my back in front of the coach—and even now... It's time for me to do the same for you."
He recalled his earlier words, "Meilin, accept the fact that you'll never be perfect—not in anything, not even at this game. In this career, you need to suck it up and fake it till you make it."
"She was struggling, but I only cared about myself... I'm not the one who should give her advice." He shook his head, his mouth twisting into a faint grimace. "Ugh... 'Fake it till you make it'? What was that? Stupid."
With a heavy sigh, he let the exhaustion overtake him as he closed his eyes.
'Wait.' In an instant, Ningshun's eyes snapped open. He propped himself up on his elbows, leaning against the bed frame. "I'm a genius."
In the Faerie Realm, Lord Muchen stood alone in a remote area, as if standing on a field of nails digging into his feet. Sharp, cold winds whispered through the barren trees. Across from him, a hooded figure loomed like a shadow, half of his face hidden by his cloak as he delivered his report.
"So, Feng Deming is distracted?" Muchen's voice cut through the silence.
The man inclined his head, the motion quick and respectful. "Yes, my Lord."
A dark flicker crossed Muchen's eyes, the tension around him tightening like a drawn bow. "You are dismissed."
The man bowed before vanishing into the night as silent as he had come, like a wisp of smoke, his movements almost invisible.
Lord Muchen returned to the palace and sat on his throne in the grand hall. His fingers curled around the armrests with such force that the smooth, cool surface beneath his palms creaked. His knuckles, pale against the darker, polished surface, stood out as a tremor ran through his hand, simmering behind his steely gaze.
"With Feng Deming preoccupied, we have a golden opportunity to strike and shatter his forces," Muchen's low voice reverberated through the chamber. "His reign has brought nothing but fear to our kind. If we act now, we can weaken his rule and restore harmony to our realm." His jaw clenched, his eyes narrowed into a hard, unyielding glare. The muscle in his temple twitched beneath his calm facade.
From the corner, a man stepped forward, his approach cautious, like a prey animal sensing the predator's eyes upon him. His gaze darted around the room, his movements jittery, as if the very air around Muchen might crush him. "If I may, Lord Muchen," his voice trembled.
Muchen's gaze sharpened as he leaned forward, giving a curt nod. "Speak, god of wisdom."
The man drew a breath, gathering his thoughts as if piecing together a delicate puzzle. "There is a possibility that Feng Deming's distraction is a ruse—perhaps he is planning an assault on our realm. A preemptive strike against Astara could be our best course of action."
A heavy silence fell over the council, their faces set like stone as they exchanged looks. One by one, they nodded.
Muchen's lips twisted into a thin, satisfied smile as his voice carried through the room. "Yize has already begun to train our warriors and sharpen their skills for the battles ahead. If we cannot kill Feng Deming, we must find a way to get rid of him."
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