On the second day at Oracle's Perch
Yu Xiao sat cross-legged in the weathered wooden chair, foot swaying in time with the soft mountain wind. She balanced a sheaf of manuscript pages on her lap, twirling a pen in her right hand. The set bustled in the distance; the sound of shouted cues, laughter, and the metallic clatter of equipment drifted up the slope. Every so often, she dipped a chocolate cookie into her coffee and let the bittersweet taste linger on her tongue before taking another careful sip.
The mountain air was crisp and clean, tinged with the scent of pine and something darker—old stone, maybe, or secrets. Yu Xiao felt a faint restlessness humming beneath her skin, as if the mountain itself was holding its breath.
Zhiyu approached, arms laden with candy and a sheepish smile. "Senior Yu, want more?" he asked, offering the colorful bundle like a peace treaty.
She nodded, still chewing the last bit of her cookie. "Sure."
He set the sweets on the table beside her, glancing at the manuscript she'd been poring over.
"The weather's good, but I still feel the cold breeze from the west," Zhiyu said, running a hand through his hair as he looked at the horizon. "It kind of gets in your bones, doesn't it?"
Yu Xiao's lips curled upward. "Not too hot, not too cold. Just right for actors and stunt work." She sipped again. "Where's Mei Zhu?"
"Ms. Wang took her to the city for props," Zhiyu replied, his voice a little too casual.
Yu Xiao paused, cup raised. "Why so suddenly?"
"Just for the day, I think. She left early this morning," he answered, but Yu Xiao thought she saw a flicker of concern cross his face.
"Ah." She nodded, but a faint anxiety pressed at her chest, refusing to be brushed away.
Zhiyu leaned in, dropping his voice as if sharing a secret. "Senior, if we ever get a long day off, maybe we could… go exploring somewhere new?" His eyes darted away, as if embarrassed by his own suggestion.
Yu Xiao looked up, surprised. "A tour?"
He straightened, the beginnings of a grin on his lips. "Yeah. I love discovering new places."
She smiled—a real, unguarded one. "Maybe soon."
Zhiyu's eyes widened, hopeful. "Really?"
Yu Xiao's gaze softened. "Zhiyu… since you're my aide now, let's be clear." She set down her coffee, her tone turning serious. "If anything's wrong, I want you to tell me. I value trust above all else. You, Zhu, and I—we help each other. Don't break that, okay?"
Zhiyu lifted his pinky, voice earnest. "Master, I promise. Always loyal to you."
She linked her pinky with his. "For our goals."
Zhiyu's laugh was soft, dispelling some of the tension. "You know, you're not like they say at the office," he said, voice low. "You act cold, but… you care. I think your past made you strong. You're still the person who inspired me. That never changed."
Yu Xiao felt emotion rise in her chest, a lump forming in her throat. She blinked the feeling away, fighting the urge to cry. "Thank you for believing in me," she whispered.
Suddenly, a shout from the set: "Water, please! Where's the water?" The moment fractured.
Zhiyu pressed the sweets into her hands. "These are for you. I'll be back."
She laughed, waving him off.
The mountain seemed to grow quieter as Zhiyu disappeared. Yu Xiao sipped her coffee, eyes drifting over the landscape. The air was so still that every sound—birdsong, distant voices, the click of her pen—felt amplified. A breeze sent a shiver up her spine, and she pulled her jacket tighter.
Just then, a chill breath seemed to whisper right in her ear. She stiffened, looking around. The hairs on her arms rose, and for a moment she was sure she'd heard her name carried on the wind.
Nothing. Only silence and the distant clamor of the crew.
She tried to focus on her manuscript, but her pen hovered, unmoving. Then—rustling from the bushes nearby. At first, she thought it was the wind, but the sound was too regular, too purposeful, as if something was moving just out of sight.
She stood, heart thudding. She glanced at the busy set—everyone was focused, no one was watching her.
What's wrong with me? Why am I so jumpy?
She pressed a hand to her chest, trying to calm her racing pulse. She was about to sit down again when a flicker of light caught her eye—a single firefly, glowing bright in the sunlight. It hovered in the greenery, impossibly out of place.
A firefly? In broad daylight?
She stared, transfixed. The firefly lingered, then drifted deeper into the woods. Yu Xiao's unease sharpened into a cold curiosity. She left her chair, moving closer, unable to resist.
"Shoo! Shoo!" she whispered, waving her hand. The firefly only floated further in, pausing as if waiting for her. When she stepped forward, it moved. When she stopped, it stopped.
"Are you… taking me somewhere?" she breathed, her voice barely audible. There was no answer, but the sensation of being watched grew stronger, pressing at her from all sides.
She looked back at the noisy set—still oblivious to her absence—then turned and slipped into the trees.
The woods closed in around her. Each step seemed to pull her further from the world she knew and deeper into the unknown. The firefly bobbed ahead, a single point of gold in the gloom. Branches tangled overhead, blocking the sun, and the air turned heavy, filled with the scent of earth and moss.
Yu Xiao's heart hammered. The crunch of dry leaves underfoot was thunderous in the hush. She lost track of time—each turn, each shadowed hollow looked the same. The firefly was always just ahead, never letting her fall too far behind.
A sudden snap behind her made her whirl. Only silence. She walked faster, fear chasing close at her heels. The path twisted, and soon all sense of direction faded. She tried to retrace her steps, but the firefly darted forward, insisting she follow.
The roar of water grew louder, drowning out even her own thoughts. She broke through a thicket and stopped, stunned.
A vast waterfall crashed between two high cliffs, mist rising in a silver veil. On the opposite side, half-hidden by vines and time, stood an ancient shrine. The place pulsed with a strange energy—old, secretive, as if it was waiting for her.
The firefly led her to a narrow rope bridge stretched taut across the chasm. The boards creaked and swayed under her weight, and the spray from the falls chilled her to the bone. She gripped the ropes, knuckles white, forcing herself forward, each step heavier than the last.
When she reached the shrine, the world seemed to pause. Vines curled along the roof; the door was half-rotten, hanging open. The silence was unnatural, expectant.
Yu Xiao hesitated at the threshold, her breath fogging in the cool air.
"So, this is why you brought me here," she whispered. "But what does it have to do with me?"
She climbed the stone steps, the doors creaking open. Inside, dust motes danced in the dim light. Her footsteps echoed as she moved deeper. On a low table, a wooden box waited, covered in a thin layer of dust.
She opened it, hands trembling. Inside were lotus-shaped fossils—delicate, intricate, impossibly old.
What is this about?
She closed the box, moved further in, and found the firefly hovering above another object—a book, battered and ancient.
She approached, heart pounding, and brushed away the dust. The title appeared in faded letters:
BRANDED WITH BETRAYAL
Her breath caught. She flipped through the pages—torn, mutilated, many missing. Exactly like the one she'd found in the library.
A chill ran down her spine. This is the same book. It can't be.
She turned the book over and over in her hands, searching for an explanation, but none came.
How did this end up here, in this impossible place?
The firefly hovered, its light flickering in the shadows. Yu Xiao felt as if the world was holding its breath, waiting for her to remember something she'd forgotten.
A sudden gust rattled the shrine's doors. The temperature dropped, and a low, almost inaudible hum filled the air. Yu Xiao's skin prickled with goosebumps.
She spun, certain she wasn't alone. For a split second, she thought she saw a shadow pass across the far wall—tall, indistinct, watching.
Her heart leapt into her throat. The firefly's light pulsed brighter, almost urgent now, as if begging her not to turn away.
She clutched the book to her chest.
Why does this feel so familiar? Why does it feel like I'm standing at the edge of something I can't name?
The shadows thickened. The waterfall's roar seemed to fade, replaced by the pounding of her own heartbeat. The air in the shrine pressed in, heavy with memories she couldn't reach.
And in that moment, Yu Xiao knew—whatever had brought her here, whatever mystery the firefly carried, it was only the beginning.