The river burbled along.
The lively, clamorous sound of running water wound through the woods like a melody that never ended.
It was so pleasant, so moving, like some ancient, gentle language whispering softly to an unseen presence.
Someone slowly opened his eyes.
He looked around in confusion, his pupils reflecting an unfamiliar sight he had never seen before.
Or did it carry a faint, curious sense of familiarity?
Time passed.
He could sense every minute and second slipping by, yet felt utterly lost within that passage, as though he had just awakened from a wonderful, long slumber.
At last.
He could finally see everything around him clearly.
Towering trees rose into the sky, their massive trunks thrusting upward like the columns of a temple, their tangled roots buried deep in the soil like the earth's exposed veins.
Heavy crowns overlapped in layer upon layer, cutting the sky into countless fragments.
Shadows were everywhere in this deep forest—dense, oppressive, as though a man-eating beast lurked behind every tree, watching the intruder with unseen eyes.
Why did such a vivid comparison come to mind?
The wanderer was puzzled.
He slowly walked to the stream and bent down to look into the water.
The stream was clear as a mirror, reflecting a face with strong, sharply defined features.
His cheekbones looked carved by a blade, his jaw hewn by an axe, his entire face like a marble statue of an ancient Roman general.
Traces of gold lingered in his graying short hair. That gold had lost its former splendor, yet stubbornly refused to disappear entirely.
His lips were pressed into a thin line, his expression unsmiling, with even a faint suggestion of suspicion and savagery.
The wanderer stared at his reflection for a long time.
That face—was it mine?
He could not