The aurora danced slowly along the horizon, its green ribbons like a silken river flowing through the sky. Faint purple and blue gleamed along its edges, shrouding the entire snowfield in dreamlike radiance. Liu Qingyan stared up at it for a long while, until her neck ached, yet she still could not bear to look away. It felt as though, the moment she blinked, that light would vanish and turn into a fleeting dream. Shen Xiu stood quietly at her side, keeping her company. Every so often, he turned to look at her profile illuminated by the aurora. Her eyes, reflecting that green glow, shone brighter than any star-filled sky.
The aurora lasted for about two hours before gradually fading, as though an invisible hand were slowly gathering up the bolt of silk spread across the heavens. The sky returned to its interwoven shades of deep blue and ink-black. With the aurora gone, the stars became clearer still, like gems carefully polished and hung in the depths of space. At last, Liu Qingyan lowered her aching neck and rubbed her eyes. "I'll never forget tonight," she said to Shen Xiu.
Shen Xiu smiled faintly and tightened his hold on her hand. The two continued northward through the lingering afterglow of the aurora for another hour or so, until they found a snow hill sheltered from the wind and made camp. That night, Liu Qingyan slept soundly, a faint smile lingering at the corners of her lips. Even when she turned over, her movements carried the languid contentment of complete satisfaction. Shen Xiu sat beside the campfire, keeping watch as he gazed at the northern sky, which still held traces of the aurora's lingering charm. He thought of the Ice Sea they would see tomorrow—of that crystal-clear sheet of ice that