Deep in the fog, a silver bell rang softly, and Gu Yunzhou followed the sound, breaking through the mountain fog, and stepping into a destiny that was written.
He thought there were people in front of him, but it was a net opened for him in the fog; he thought there was a way home behind him, but it had already become an abyss from which he could not turn back.
The fog is all around, the ringing of the bells is fading away, leaving only the whisper of the mountain breeze——
"Stay and be the quietest light in my palm."
Intention: write about fog as a cage, write about a bell as a lock, and write about a person breaking the cage.