Farewell Before Departure

Time was the most merciless thing. In the blink of an eye, two months had passed, and deep autumn had arrived once more.

This vast primeval forest looked as though the Creator had overturned a palette across it.

As far as the eye could see, the monotonous green was gone, replaced by layer upon layer of brilliant color.

Towering red pines and oaks had donned splendid robes woven from gold and crimson, casting mottled shadows beneath the warm orange evening sun.

The thick white trunks were crisscrossed with fissures in their bark, like black eyes silently watching this ancient land.

The forest floor was carpeted with multicolored fallen leaves, thick as a brocade rug. With every step, dead branches and leaves gave off crisp rustling sounds. The air was filled with the faintly fishy scent of earth and the mellow fragrance of fermenting leaves—a unique smell that was strangely addictive.

Deep within the forest lay a secluded ravine encircled by a stream.

Sunlight filtered through the sparse treetops like scattered gold, falling upon moss-covered boulders and tangled roots.

The stream burbled softly, flowing with extreme slowness, like crystal-clear mirrors polished to perfection.

By the stream, a robed youth sat quietly in meditation.

His eyes were tightly shut, his breathing nearly imperceptible. He seemed to have become a stubborn rock or an ancient tree, completely merging with the tranquil peace around him.

"Tap."

A yellow-green dead leaf succumbed to the temptation of the wind, spiraling down to lightly touch the water and sending out a tiny ring of ripples.

The instant those ripples spread, the youth slowly opened his eyes.

At that moment, it was as if thunder had erupted from level ground. An invisible wind seemed to arise from nowhere within the ravine, whipping the hem of his robe that