Sunna and Nangong struck the first notes, and a gentle melody rose. The sound of their guitars spread around the bonfire, clear as ripples beneath the moonlight.
Aria closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and began to sing.
"Must I first say goodbye to the wheat fields before I can spread my wings and fly...?"
Then Griseo began her performance. She gently raised the Signets of The Stars in both hands, and the painting she had prepared unfolded against the night.
The audience below the stage seemed to see a wheat field.
Golden waves of wheat swayed in the breeze, the heads brushing together with a faint rustle.
"Whoa, where did these special effects come from?" Yuzuha's mouth fell slightly open.
Even Mato stared at the stage, looking utterly astonished.
Then Sunna and Nangong's voices joined in, like a small stream flowing into a river. Unhurried and gentle, they carried Aria's melody.
"I said goodbye to the ones I loved most, and kept brushing past strangers..."
The scene shifted. The wheat field vanished, replaced by a train platform.
A young man stood with a pack on his back. He turned and waved behind him. At the other end of the platform, a small, indistinct woman waved back.
Griseo had left her face unclear, but from the mood and the lyrics, everyone knew who she was.
The train pulled away. Outside the window, the green hills of home gave way to an unfamiliar city, crowded streets, and a sea of expressionless faces.
"When I'm trapped in the crowd, the mountains of my childhood appear before my eyes..."
"I've lost more than yesterday. I've lost the happiest part of myself..."
In the painting, the now-grown young man stood at a bustling intersection and looked up, lost.
A mountain suddenly appeared in the sky—the mountain he remembered, pink with peach blossoms and white with apricot blossoms.
But most important were the little figures running together down its slopes, their laughter carrying into the distance...
Then the scene changed again.
A winding stream appeared, its water clear to the bottom, reflecting the blue sky and white clouds.
On this bank stood his grown-up self, pack on his back, gazing across the water.
On the opposite bank stood his younger self and his friends. They skipped stones—one, two, three splashes—then turned and grinned at him.
By the time the song reached its midpoint, some in the audience had quietly turned their faces away. The emotion was becoming too much.
"The river of childhood winds and winds. Mom is on that side; grown-up me is on the other, walking farther and farther away..."
As Aria's voice rose to the climax, Griseo changed the scene once more. The stream became a great river.
This time, a middle-aged woman stood on the opposite bank. She waited before a house with smoke curling from its chimney, a bowl of soup in her hands, peering toward this side.
On this bank, her grown child had gone so very far. All that remained was a figure receding into the distance.
"I keep wondering how to make the dream in my heart come true. But what about hers...?"
In the painting, the grown child stood in a spotlight, holding a trophy amid applause and flowers.
Across the river, the middle-aged woman bent to rub her aching knees. A bowl of soup sat cold on the table.
At that moment, everyone asked for her—and for themselves:
Had the person she was waiting for come home today?
"The river of time winds and winds. Mom is on that side; far away, I still long for the past that's gone..."
Griseo took a deep breath, and the glow of the Signets softened further.
The images she summoned became an album blown open by the wind, its pages turning one by one:
Spring: little figures running over a hillside;
Summer: small hands sharing peaches beneath a peach tree;
Autumn: a straw rope swinging as a girl jumped highest of all, her braids flying;
Winter: a trail of footprints through the snow, leading to a lighted window.
But those were not the images that struck closest to home...
As Aria began the final chorus,
the grown child in the painting turned and ran toward the opposite bank. He ran through the crowd, through the unfamiliar city, toward the winding river...
But across the river, the house was still there, and smoke still rose from its chimney. The figure who had watched for him at the door was gone.
Only a bowl of soup, long since cold, remained on the table.
"Back then, I didn't know what regret was. In the end, all that filled my heart was guilt."
"Later, Mom appeared in my dreams."
As Aria sang the final line, the image froze.
The grown child lay asleep in bed. Though the corners of his mouth curved upward, a tear rested at the corner of his eye.
Perhaps in his dream there was a winding river. On the opposite bank, a middle-aged woman smiled and waved, holding a bowl of hot soup.
Steam rose from the soup, blurring both their faces.
The beach was utterly still. Only the bonfire crackled, sending up an occasional spark.
Onstage, Sunna and Nangong lowered their guitars. Griseo lowered her sketchbook and joined them beside Aria. Together, they bowed to signal the end of the performance.
Someone in the crowd sniffled softly. Then more people began to sniffle.
Without a doubt, this folk song with its Weifei Land style was a success.
Once the audience had collected themselves, belated applause surged toward the stage like a tide.
Griseo looked up at the applauding crowd. Each person was tinged with a warm yellow. She knew their applause meant "thank you."
She also knew that painting with the colors Eden had brought her had given her so many colors—special colors she loved.
As the performers stepped down, Cecilia smiled and encouraged them. "You sweethearts were wonderful!!"
Perhaps overcome with emotion, Manager Theresa rose, wiping away tears, and shouted, "Desserts and hot drinks for everyone tonight—on the resort!!"
Another cheer swept across the beach. The bonfire kept burning, its sparks flying toward the river of stars.
Before you continue