Misty Pines Never Cross the River

For eight years, I held on to my grandmother's lie, making a wish to the misty pines on the mountain behind our village every year as I waited for someone who would never come back. Then a man named Zhou Yan barged into my world, holding my mother's keepsake and telling me, "Your mother asked me to tell you she never intended to come back." The whole village waited to watch me fall apart, but I smiled. Because I knew I had never been waiting for my mother. I was waiting for the fool who had borne that lie for me for eight years to tell me the truth himself.