"Hack—hack—" Yihan coughed theatrically a few times to draw their attention.

He wasn’t blind. The moment Lia appeared, the atmosphere between the two had turned icy.

The traveler remained his usual self—calm, unreadable, offering no comment. But Lia’s eyes flashed with sharp suspicion and wariness. She even took a deliberate step back, muscles coiled as if ready to strike.

Yihan nearly groaned inwardly. *Who exactly are you planning to fight? You’ve never even met her—why jump straight to hostility? What’s gotten into you?*

Lia moved faster. With a light tap of her toes, she darted past Carola and latched onto Yihan’s arm, her voice dripping with playful scolding: "Why are you so late?"

Carola’s eyelashes fluttered faintly. *They know each other?*

Yihan was just as puzzled. He’d never set a specific time or place to meet Lia—it was always him seeking her out. Sometimes he’d linger in town, strolling aimlessly, making him late. Where did this "lateness" even come from?

He watched closely. As Lia spoke, her gaze wasn’t on him at all. It pinned the nameless traveler instead, her emerald eyes brimming with smug defiance.

*Oh…* Yihan’s mouth opened slightly in surprise. He played along, adding an explanation: "I ran into this lady on the road. She was lost, so I showed her the way. That’s why I’m late."

*So that’s it.* Lia exhaled quietly, relief washing over her—but a trace of resentment lingered beneath.

She still hated seeing Yihan with other women. Even a chance encounter left a sour taste in her mouth. She couldn’t explain why, but the thought of him laughing and chatting with anyone else made her chest tighten.

They’d been standing so close just now—who knew if their shoulders had brushed?

Carola glanced between Lia and Yihan, then said flatly, "Thanks for the directions. I have business to attend to." Without waiting for his reply, she turned and strode away. Her thick cloak kicked up powdery snow, and within seconds, her figure vanished into the bustling street.

*Truly a woman like the wind…* Yihan mused. He turned to Lia. "Selling matches again today?"

"Mm. But we can head back early tonight—I have a performance." The beautiful gown she’d been promised had brightened her whole day. Seeing Yihan now made her even happier; her eyes sparkled with lively joy. "Will you come watch me tonight? Are you free?"

Yihan considered it. If he timed things right, he should make it. The hopeful look on her face told him this performance mattered deeply. He couldn’t let her down.

When he nodded, Lia nearly cheered aloud.

Then, as if remembering something urgent, she yanked his arm and dragged him into a deserted alley. After glancing around, she hurried him through a maze of crooked lanes until they reached an abandoned construction site on the town’s outskirts. Weeds choked the old structures. Ducking low, she slipped into a sunken patch of muddy ground.

"What’s in there?" Yihan whispered, bending down.

Moments later, Lia emerged, cradling a small wooden box. Ignoring the dust smudged across her cheeks, she beamed as she lifted the lid.

Inside lay thirty or forty stiff, cold coppers. Yihan touched them—they clinked hard and metallic between his fingers.

"You’ve been saving these secretly all this time?" he breathed.

"Yep!" Lia glowed with pride at his stunned expression. "I worked really hard. Selling from dawn till dusk, keeping half each day… slowly, they added up." She leaned closer, eyes gleaming. "Is it enough?"

"Enough for what?"

"The travel fare."

Yihan’s hand stilled on the coins. Suddenly, they felt unbearably heavy.

*She remembered.*

Back then, when he’d suggested she leave this place, he hadn’t truly meant it. He’d only pitied her—starving, shivering in the snow while selling matches, abandoned by the orphanage. It was just a passing thought.

After all, this was only his dream. Everyone and everything here was fiction. Why invest his heart?

He’d meddled for fun. No matter what he did, when he woke, it would all vanish like mist.

Lia. Soul Valley Town. All just smoke and mirrors.

A hollow emptiness settled in his chest, like punching endlessly into a sea of cotton.

But this foolish girl had taken him seriously.

She truly believed he’d take her away from this frozen town to somewhere warm. She’d worked tirelessly, saving every copper, clinging to that fragile hope day after day.

It reminded him of his younger self—alone in a glittering city, grinding through exhaustion, convinced he’d carve out a life, a home, a future.

His eyes stung.

Lia tilted her head, confused by the sudden redness rimming his eyes.

"It’s not enough…" he managed, forcing a smile to hide the ache. "Just fare won’t do. We’d need living costs, seed money to start anew… a place to stay. A house. All that takes far more."

Lia nodded, not fully understanding but brimming with determination. "That’s okay. I’ll keep working hard."

Yihan ruffled her hair, his arm feeling leaden.

He felt like a fraud. He’d given her hope but forgotten his own words.

This was like some game he’d played. The protagonist meets an NPC on a quest. They chat warmly. The NPC waits for someone. The protagonist helps, triggers the story, then leaves her behind to chase the next boss—no reward, no closure. She waits forever in that spot, forgotten.

Only now did he grasp the weight of broken promises. No wonder players wept over NPC endings. It wasn’t about dark stories or weak hearts. Some tragedies were simply inevitable. Some loops had no exit. Nothing mattered.

Lia’s smile was pure as fresh snow. Yihan’s heart plummeted like a runaway elevator.

*What if this dream were real?* he thought desperately. *What if Lia truly existed? I’d gather every coin I own, cross mountains and rivers to find her. I’d take her hand, leave this frozen town, and head south where the air is warm. We’d live together. At night, we’d climb hills to watch the stars.*

He couldn’t deny it anymore. He’d grown fond of this lonely girl.

Even if she only lived in dreams. Even if she wasn’t real.

But perhaps it hurt all the more precisely because it wasn’t real.