Sunlight floated on the surface, surrounded by aimless winds. Time slipped away, yet memories fermented like wine, growing richer with the quiet sorrow of passing years.
Everything felt like it happened just yesterday—the flames that consumed the entire sky, the desperate cries, and the cruel, lingering cold. She thought she could forget, but in the end, it was just futile self-deception.
When Gonijiaer snapped out of her daze, she no longer knew where she was.
Last night, the temperature had suddenly dropped. The icy chill stirred old memories, but she was no longer that little girl trembling helplessly in the dark cold. She wouldn’t stand by and watch anymore. Now, she was strong—in every sense.
Her once-fragile heart was encased in a tough shell. No pain could leave a mark, for within that thick armor lay the tears of the past and the helpless murmurs from countless nightmare awakenings.
Before her stretched a field of pure white flowers. A clear stream cut through the center, splitting it in two. Along the stream wound a gravel-and-dirt path, twisting all the way to the hillside.
She took a deep breath. A scent hung in the air—both unfamiliar and familiar. After a moment, she realized it was the fragrance from the little girl she’d met yesterday.
I wonder what she’s doing now?
Gonijiaer crouched down, touching the delicate white petals. Her fair fingers gently stroked them, but in her mind, she saw the little girl’s cute face and her peaceful sleeping expression.
Her fingers moved lightly to the stem when she suddenly sensed someone approaching. In an instant, she snapped off the flower and turned. A little girl was slowly walking toward her from the distance.
She wore a simple linen dress, but the gray-brown fabric couldn’t hide her tender skin. She was tiny, so small she seemed like she could be cradled in one’s hands. Her eyes and hair were a pure, deep blue. Long hair cascaded down to her waist. Big eyes, delicate brows—but her face was slightly thin, adding a sorrow beyond her years.
The little girl carried a basket filled with white lilies.
When she saw Gonijiaer, she looked surprised, but a trace of joy flickered in her eyes. As she drew closer and saw the flower in Gonijiaer’s hand, all those expressions vanished.
“Hello, big sister,” the little girl said shyly, head down. Her gaze fixed on the flower, her expression a little aggrieved.
Gonijiaer had seen this look before—on that cunning little girl who’d deceived her with almost the same expression. So, even though she was just a child, Gonijiaer subtly heightened her guard. As the girl approached, Gonijiaer watched her movements warily.
The little girl walked gently to the edge of the flower field. She gazed at the flower in Gonijiaer’s hand with pity.
“This child… it must hurt,” the girl said. Her voice was as soft and fragile as her appearance, as if a breeze could knock her over.
“?” Gonijiaer didn’t understand at first.
“It must hurt a lot. I’m sorry.”
Alyssa took the flower from Gonijiaer’s hand. This unexpected move left Gonijiaer momentarily flustered, and she let the little girl take it.
The little girl gently stroked the flower, her expression like a mother comforting her child.
Gonijiaer was stunned. After a while, she asked, “Do you like these flowers very much?”
“I do, very much,” Alyssa said, suddenly blushing for no reason. Gonijiaer felt puzzled.
“She’s kind. She always keeps me company.”
For some reason, Gonijiaer felt a connection with the little girl—perhaps it was the loneliness in her words. This girl reminded her of her younger self from the distant past, those frozen memories.
“Then why do you pick these flowers?” Gonijiaer pointed to the basket. “If you do that…”
Wouldn’t that be too pitiful?
Though Gonijiaer didn’t say it aloud, the little girl seemed to read her mind. She said firmly, “They’re not the same as her.”
“What’s the difference? Aren’t they all just flowers?”
“Because they’re born from ‘love’! They come from love and leave because of love!” Alyssa almost shouted.
“‘Love’?” Gonijiaer suddenly laughed. “What do you, a little thing, know about love? And how do you know I didn’t pick this flower out of love?”
Alyssa was speechless. Then, flustered, she apologized in a tearful voice, “Alyssa is stupid. I don’t know if you’re right, but if…”
If only Nevia were here. She would know what to do.
“If that’s the case, then Alyssa apologizes to the big sister.”
Gonijiaer didn’t respond to the apology. Instead, she gazed at the little girl’s face. “You look happy?”
“Because it’s so good,” Alyssa said, gazing tenderly at the flower. A relieved smile touched her lips. “This child will be happy too.”
Gonijiaer let out a soft sigh. “Do you live alone?”
“Mm.” Alyssa nodded, then quickly shook her head.
“Is that so?” Gonijiaer wasn’t sure what she understood, but she suddenly felt like something had lifted from her heart.
That’s really good.
“This flower field is beautiful.”
Gonijiaer looked up at the transparent canopy. Beyond a thin layer of clouds lay the unobstructed sky, overcast and slightly dark today. But no matter its color, it was still that same sky—serene and profound, embracing all things yet returning them to emptiness. Gonijiaer sat down and leaned back on the soft grass. She reached out, trying to grasp a light that didn’t exist. But when she gently closed her hand, only the flowing breeze slipped through her fingers.
For a moment, it felt like she could lie there forever. Never having to get up again.
“Goodbye, big sister.”
“Goodbye.”
Alyssa waved gently, watching the girl disappear into the distance. She felt happy—she’d talked to someone a lot today.
She raised her hand to make the victory gesture Nevia had taught her. Then she noticed the flower the girl had picked was still in her hand, glowing in the sunlight.
“Oh no!”
Alyssa cried out and hurriedly ran in the direction the girl had gone.
