The White Fox's Immortal Shadow: A Dream of Ancient Times

Rain ran down the ribs of the umbrella, pocking the dirt road with tiny craters. Yun Mengxian held a black umbrella and followed three steps behind her mother. For eighteen years, every Qingming Festival had been the same: her mother walked ahead in silence, and she followed in silence to pay respects to a father she had no memory of.

The mountain wind carried a damp chill, making the hem of her school uniform sway. She glanced down at her phone. The signal bar was empty, and even the time had stopped at 10:17 a.m.

“This is the last year,” her mother suddenly said, her voice almost lost in the rain. “Once you’re an adult, you won’t have to come anymore.”

Yun Mengxian froze and looked up at her mother’s back. She still wore the same dark blue cotton-linen jacket, her hair neatly pinned up behind her head, as if nothing had changed in all these eighteen years.

“Why?” she couldn’t help asking.

Her mother didn’t answer. She paused for a moment, then kept walking.

Yun Mengxian pressed her lips together and asked no more. Her mother had always been like this: when it came to her father, she never spoke a word. Yun Mengxian wasn’t even sure there was really anyone buried in that grave. Every time they visited, her mother never let her approach the headstone, making her stand far away instead.

The rain grew heavier, and the mountain path turned muddy. She carefully skirted the puddles when a faint whimper came from the bushes by the road.

She stopped, crouched down, and pushed aside the branches

A pair of amber eyes