Later, Xian'a grew into a beautiful woman. The boy came to see her as always. "What is the world outside the …
Later, Xian'a grew into a beautiful woman. The boy came to see her as always.
"What is the world outside the village is like?" The boy sat on the bench, swinging his legs, gazing at the full moon in a daze.
"The elders say we are the moon's people. We cannot leave the village." Xian'a handed the boy a flatbread. "This isn't a moon bun. It's a sea buckthorn cake I made."
The boy took the cake but didn't eat it. Instead, he stared at it thoughtfully.
"Outside seems troubled. I heard there's war. Many have died. Some have starved."
"Why is it only we can scoop the moon from the water? The moon belongs to everyone."
"When people beyond the valley look at the moon... do they also wish the moon could fill their stomachs?"
The boy's questions left Xian'a with no answer.
Moonlight poured down, its soft halo making it hard for Xian'a to keep her eyes open. She saw the ominous future—
The boy pacing the sea of sand, passing villages strewn with starved bodies.
He descended like a deity, chanting his song, performing the miracle of scooping the moon.
And then, time and sand devoured his youthful spirit. His moon-catching net in tatters, he simply aged and died in the desert.
In this life, he never returned to his homeland of glorious moonlight.
"Don't go—" Xian'a almost begged, grabbing the boy's sleeve, just as her brother had held her back years ago.
The boy just raised an eyebrow, unsurprised his thoughts were seen. He smiled and broke the sea buckthorn cake.
"You got excellent skills."