Na'er Is Leaving

The setting sun spread molten gold across the entire sea, orange-red waves of light layering over one another as they lazily lapped against the pale golden beach, leaving behind long trails of tiny white foam.

The sea breeze swept over them, cool and salty-damp, lifting Na'er's short silver hair. Strands brushed across her cheeks, but she did not raise a hand to tuck them away as she usually did.

Both of them were barefoot, stepping into the fine sand warmed by the sunset.

The sand was soft, sinking past their ankles. Each step left a shallow footprint that was soon smoothed away by the incoming tide.

Tang Wulin held Na'er's little hand, feeling the thin layer of sweat in her palm beneath his fingertips.

Whenever they came to the beach before, Na'er had always been the most lively one.

She would run barefoot after the waves, squat on the beach to collect colorful seashells, and point at the seagulls in the distance as she chattered endlessly, her bell-like laughter carrying far away.

But today was different.

She was quiet, walking slowly, her fingers resting limply in Tang Wulin's palm without any strength.

Her head remained lowered as she stared at the sand beneath her feet, not saying a word for a long time.

After walking for quite a while, Tang Wulin finally stopped.

He turned around and looked down at the little girl beside him, his brows faintly furrowed, his voice filled with concern.

"Na'er, what's wrong with you today?"

The sea breeze scattered his voice slightly. Na'er's eyelashes trembled, but she still did not look up.

After thinking for a moment, Tang Wulin lowered his voice and asked cautiously.

"Is it because you didn't awaken a martial soul during the earlier martial soul awakening?"

He remembered it clearly. When Red Mountain Academy had organized the martial soul awakening at age six, Na'er had been downcast ever since she returned.

She had shut herself in her room for an entire afternoon and barely eaten any dinner.

Lang Yue had comforted her for a long time, telling her it was all right and that she could be tested again later, but she still could not cheer up.

Na'er still did not answer.

She merely let go of Tang Wulin's hand in silence, walked two steps forward, and stopped where the tide could just reach her.

The cold seawater washed over the tops of her feet, but she seemed not to notice.

She slowly raised her left hand.

On her ring finger was the ring Tang Wulin had personally put on her two years ago. A tiny silver flower was carved at its top, each line painstakingly engraved by Tang Wulin with a carving knife. It was not especially exquisite, but it had been made with care.

The sunset fell upon the ring, reflecting a faint, fragmented, gentle light.

She looked at the ring and spoke softly, her voice as calm as she could make it.

"Brother, the ring you gave me is so pretty."

Her voice was light and soft, just as it was whenever she acted cute.

But Tang Wulin could clearly hear the faint tremble at the end of her words, as though she were desperately holding something back.

She did not even turn around to look at him.

Tang Wulin's heart sank at once.

He stepped forward twice and stood beside Na'er, looking at her profile dyed orange-red by the sunset. The concern in his voice deepened.

"Na'er, what exactly is wrong?"

Na'er finally turned around.

She raised her head. A thin mist of tears clouded her purple eyes, like violet crystals veiled in fog.

The sunset shattered into specks of light in her eyes. Her tears were on the verge of falling, yet she held them back with all her might, biting her lower lip to keep them from spilling over.

She did not answer Tang Wulin's question directly. She only looked at him quietly for a long while before asking in a small, trembling voice:

"If one day Na'er leaves, will you miss Na'er?"

Tang Wulin's heart clenched sharply.

He recalled what Jin Qiu had told him—often, the truth could be deduced from the details.

He looked at Na'er's reddened eyes, her tightly clenched fingers, and her shoulders that shook constantly despite her attempt to appear calm.

He remembered how she had been secretly watching Lang Yue cook in a daze these past few days, how she would hold the paper Phoenix Huang Feng'er had folded for her and lose herself in thought, and how she had quietly climbed out of bed in the middle of the night to sit in the courtyard and watch the moon.

A terrifying guess took shape in his heart in an instant.

His throat tightened, and there was an almost imperceptible tremor in his voice.

"Na'er, are you leaving?"

Na'er said nothing.

She simply stood there in the sunset, looking at Tang Wulin.

At last, she could no longer hold back her tears. They slid down her cheeks and fell onto the beach, spreading into two tiny wet patches.

She neither nodded nor shook her head.

But silence itself was an answer.

The waves crashed against the shore, their rushing sound filling their ears.

The wind lifted the hems of their clothes, carrying the salty scent of seawater.

The sun at the horizon sank a little farther, stretching their shadows long, long, until they overlapped.

"What the hell are you doing?! You can already tell she's leaving, so hurry up and comfort her!"

Jin Qiu stomped anxiously inside the Spirit Sea, shouting at Tang Wulin.

"Just go hug her and say something gentle! You blockhead! Why are you standing there like a telephone pole?!"

Tang Wulin's mind had been completely blank.

Looking at Na'er's tear-reddened eyes, he felt as though something were lodged in his heart. It was sour and painful, yet he stood frozen in place, not knowing what to do or say.

Jin Qiu's shout was like a clap of thunder, instantly jolting him awake.

Almost instinctively, he took a large step forward, stretched out his arms, and pulled the little girl before him tightly into his embrace.

He was a full head taller than Na'er, his chin resting right against the soft crown of her head.

The little figure in his arms was small and soft, her shoulders still trembling constantly.

He could smell the faint gardenia fragrance in her hair, the scent of the shampoo Lang Yue often used, mixed with the salty dampness of the sea breeze.

He wanted to say something to comfort her.

He wanted to say, "Don't go, okay?" He wanted to say, "We'll all miss you." He wanted to say, "Stay. We'll always be a family."

But when the words reached his lips, they seemed blocked, and he could not force any of them out.

He had never been very emotionally intelligent, and he was terribly clumsy with words. The more anxious he became, the less he could speak.

In the end, he could only tighten his arms and hold her even more firmly, as if she would disappear like sea foam the moment he let go.

He simply held her in silence, saying nothing, yet hiding all his reluctance within that tight embrace.

Resting in his warm embrace, Na'er's final line of defense completely crumbled.

She stretched out her thin arms and tightly wrapped them around Tang Wulin's waist, burying her face deeply into his shoulder.

The tears she had held back for so long finally burst through, and she let out a loud sob.

Her warm tears instantly soaked through the clothes on Tang Wulin's shoulder, scalding his heart with wave after wave of pain.

"Na'er can't bear to leave Brother..."

She sobbed so hard that she could barely speak coherently, smearing tears and snot all over Tang Wulin's clothes.

"I can't bear to leave Sister... I can't bear to leave Dad and Mom..."

"I can't bear to leave our little courtyard... I can't bear to leave the sunflowers in the yard... I can't bear to leave Mother Lang Yue's braised pork..."

"But I'm sorry..."

She cried even harder, her shoulders shaking violently as her fingers tightly gripped the fabric at Tang Wulin's back. The silver ring on her ring finger pressed against his back. It was tiny, yet as heavy as a stone.

"Na'er has to leave..."

Tang Wulin said nothing. He only held Na'er quietly.