On an early summer night, a gentle breeze ruffled the boy's bangs. He sat quietly on the balcony, looking up at the stars. His slightly furrowed brows revealed the faint sorrow in his heart.
"A Xiang, have you made it back to Jiangdong safely? Is the moon there the same as the one I see here in the Eastern Han?" Xiu wondered absently. His right hand instinctively brushed his left wrist. Once, a cool metal bracelet had rested there, decorated with ancient patterns. But now... it had long since been replaced by a siman. Xiu couldn't help feeling a little frustrated. Why, after all this time, did he still make that gesture without thinking?
That trace of longing in his heart had been there all along. But who had it been for?
