Come with me.

Ji Ning hailed a taxi, for he had no time to dawdle. No one knew what state the girl named Qin Mo was in now. Compared to those who have never seen the light and walk in perpetual night, the blow from a flame kindled and then extinguished is far greater.

It was only when Ji Ning stepped out at the park entrance that he allowed himself to relax a little. The park had far more visitors than he had imagined; though it was not a weekend, clusters of kites danced in the sky from afar, children raced under the warm sunlight, and the begonias and roses in the flowerbeds bloomed brilliantly, their fragrance intoxicating in the breeze.

Ji Ning stood at the edge of the plaza, searching for the lonely girl. Fortunately, he found her almost immediately—Qin Mo sat by the fountain, gazing up at the kites.

Her long hair tumbled freely over her shoulders, the gentle sunlight softly caressing her perfect profile. Her fair skin glistened under the sun like a diamond, and she watched the sky with an expression both beautiful and sorrowful.

Ji Ning finally breathed out in relief. Following her gaze, he saw a shoal of kites, like jellyfish floating in the sky. He looked around and found a vendor selling balloons, then walked toward a child flying a kite.

“Hello.” Ji Ning crouched down to speak to the little boy as an equal.

The child, with snot trailing from his nose, eyed him suspiciously.

Ji Ning smiled and shook the balloon in his hand. “First of all, I’m not a bad guy.”

The boy’s gaze settled on the balloon, and he sniffed. “First of all, bad guys always say they’re not bad guys.”

“You’re quite sharp, little one. I’m not trying to give you a balloon so you’ll follow me—I just want to make a fair trade with you.” Ji Ning retreated a little as he spoke, offering the balloon to the boy.

“What kind of trade?” The boy hesitated, then freed one hand to accept the balloon.

“It’s simple. This balloon is yours, but I’d like to borrow your kite for a while. Don’t worry, I won’t steal it—you can stand right beside me and watch.” Ji Ning grinned, pointing at the kite floating above.

“There’s a kite seller by the entrance. Why don’t you buy one?” the boy asked, pointing toward the park gate.

Ji Ning waved his hand. “I don’t have the money—a kite costs tens of yuan, I can only afford a balloon.”

“That’s tough luck.” The boy looked smug; his kite had cost his mother several rounds of rolling on the ground.

“I really want to try flying a kite,” Ji Ning said, blinking.

“Alright, but be careful—don’t break it.”

“Thank you.” Ji Ning took the kite and stood up.

He let out some string, watching the kite grow as small as an ant in the sky, then shook his head. He couldn’t see what was so fascinating about it; as a child, he’d never cared for kites.

“Hey, don’t let out any more string—the kite line will snap. Pull it down a bit; if it’s too high, the wind will carry it off,” the boy supervising Ji Ning tugged at his sleeve.

---

Ji Ning tugged at the kite string again, and before the kite could shift in the sky, the boy shouted, “A grown-up who doesn’t know how to fly a kite! Why are you pulling the string against the wind? The wind will break the line!”

“Fine, I’ll wait for the wind to change direction and then pull with it,” Ji Ning sighed. Waiting for the wind to change could take forever.

“If you break my kite, you’ll have to buy me a new one. Even if you don’t have money, you’ll have to call your mom,” the boy declared righteously.

“Alright, I get it,” Ji Ning replied helplessly, glancing at the boy beside him. Who can’t afford a kite? He just didn’t know how to fly one, so he’d borrowed one, but apparently it was hard not only to launch a kite, but also to make it shift directions in the sky...

After a while, Ji Ning conceded. He crouched so his eyes were level with the boy’s. “How can I make the kite descend—not crash, but lower its altitude?”

With the addition of a lollipop, Ji Ning finally managed to bring the kite to the desired height under the boy’s guidance.

Qin Mo watched the sky in silence. She couldn’t bear the thought of living alone any longer. Her fears followed her, shadow-like, through solitude. She was only eighteen, and girls her age should be shining at the brightest moment of their lives, not waiting for dawn through sleepless nights.

She remembered Ji Ning, and their first meeting—how he’d poked at her cautiously with a clothes rod, as if facing a wild beast. He was so young, yet it was because of her ring that he found her here. Was it possible for such a young agent to be assigned to these matters?

Despite his youth, he was no ordinary person. The middle-aged man who intercepted them at the hotel had seemed terrifying, but Ji Ning had dealt with him. Qin Mo recalled how he stood before her, and thought that what she felt then must have been a sense of safety.

She reflected on their days together; he must have known what she would face, which explained his silence that morning. The thought made her sad—why her, out of all the people in the world? She didn’t blame Ji Ning. She believed that, if he could, he would help her. But not everything in the world can be solved by mere will; he must feel helpless too.

Qin Mo was clever. She had guessed from Ji Ning’s demeanor what she would soon face. If there were evil gods in this world, there must be organizations to oppose them—otherwise ordinary life wouldn’t be so peaceful. Ji Ning must belong to such an institution. Her case must be especially troublesome, or his mood wouldn’t be so bleak.

Perhaps one day she would die without warning, erased from existence by the nameless entity in her dreams.

The thought made Qin Mo’s heart ache. She looked up, trying to hold back tears. The pigeons on the plaza shone in the golden sunlight, and the breeze swept through clusters of flowers. She pushed her hair behind her ear and gazed at the distant passersby.

People hurried or lingered, but ultimately vanished from her sight. She knew they were chasing unknown dreams, aiming for places they had never seen, with no extra time to linger here.

Only she, only she could do nothing—like a kite tethered and bound.

She watched the kite overhead. It drew nearer, and she realized something was amiss. Turning, she saw the smiling boy standing behind her.

“Good afternoon. What a coincidence—I’m flying a kite, and you’re watching them,” Ji Ning’s voice was a signal, unleashing all her pent-up sorrow and grievance in an instant. He hadn’t abandoned her; he had come to find her. She mattered. In this cold, cruel world, someone cared for her. The thought shattered the walls of emotion she had built. She stood and hugged Ji Ning tightly, so tightly he could barely breathe.

All the lines he’d prepared for this “chance meeting” became useless; she threw herself into his arms without a trace of doubt.

Ji Ning, surprised by the girl’s behavior, hesitated, but eventually patted her trembling back gently. Though Qin Mo’s sobs were suppressed, he felt a large patch of wetness on his shoulder.

When Qin Mo finally stopped crying, Ji Ning could not bring himself to utter any gentle lies. He spoke softly, “I’ve been looking for you for a long time.”

---

Qin Mo raised her head, her eyes red, like a helpless little rabbit. “Am I going to die?”

“Of course not.” Ji Ning shook his head, then looked at her with earnest seriousness. “I won’t let you die.”

Qin Mo said nothing more. She wiped her tears and sat down, only then realizing what she had just done. Shyness made her turn slightly, so Ji Ning couldn’t see her tear-stained, blushing face and red eyes.

All Ji Ning’s prepared words had been washed away by her tears. He let out more string, and the two of them quietly watched the kite soar toward the horizon. It was a long time before Ji Ning broke the delicate silence.

He took several bags of cashews from his jacket pocket—the same brand for each. He had searched six supermarkets to find them. Without hesitation, he handed them all to Qin Mo and spoke in a tone half-joking, half-hopeful.

“I’ve brought you something delicious. If I had an extra plane ticket, would you come with me?”

At that moment, Ji Ning felt conflicted. After all, everything he did was one-sided. Qin Mo had never shown any sign of wanting to leave. He was just a stranger she’d known for scarcely three days.

What if she didn’t want to come? As he uttered the question, Ji Ning suddenly realized it might not be the right time; she had only just understood her predicament. His invitation felt less like a timely rescue and more an opportunistic offer. He wanted to explain that he meant for her to come with him to Deer Academy, where there would surely be professors who could help her. Yet, if he explained before she replied, it would only seem more evasive.

Qin Mo did not respond for a long time. But her silence was not hesitation as Ji Ning imagined. She simply didn’t know how to react to such kindness.

She had not been cared for in so long that she’d nearly forgotten how to respond to warmth.

She had never expected someone to light a lamp for her during the endless night, nor to be cherished so deeply. The sudden joy was almost unbearable, and she wanted to speak but could not find the words.

Time seemed to halt; the world’s radiance dimmed, but she felt no fear. An inexplicable trust flickered within her, and at last, at the horizon, a faint glimmer appeared. As that distant star rose, darkness receded. In an instant, she saw the boy sitting beside her, and heard his question—casually posed but tinged with nervous hope.

The air was filled with the scent of gardenia, the entire square bathed in golden sunlight, and somewhere in the distance, koi broke the surface with a subtle splash.

A surge of irrepressible desire made her want to call to every dove, to cradle every hyacinth in the flowerbeds, to have her answer carried by the wind toward the edge of the world.

But when she looked up and saw those anxious, expectant eyes, all her words melted away like mist.

She gazed into them, as if to remember forever, until Ji Ning’s clenched hand grew damp with sweat. Only then did Qin Mo speak, slowly.

“Yes.”