Lu Mingfei was startled. He had no idea why he had thought of those mad, magnificent, yet vivid scenes. He realized that at some point, those phantoms that had existed only in his mind had begun to truly appear before his eyes.
Wait, wasn't I in a hotel in Chicago? How did I end up here?
He looked toward the enormous moon. Moonlight spilled down, surging toward him like a tide.
Lu Mingfei froze for a moment and found that everything around him had vanished—the wilderness, the church, the torch-bearing crowds running past. He was still in that hotel, with a bustling highway outside.
A boy stood beyond the window, an enormous full moon hanging behind him. Its cold radiance flowed over his silhouette like a tide.
He looked Chinese, around thirteen or fourteen years old, dressed in a pure black evening suit. He lowered his head silently, looking exceptionally lonely.
Lu Mingfei stood by the window and watched the boy. He felt as though the boy's gaze was watching him too, but the other's face was hidden in shadow, impossible to see clearly.
They simply stared at one another, like the Cowherd and Weaver Girl gazing across the Magpie Bridge...
Damn it, why did I think of the Cowherd and Weaver Girl?
Lu Mingfei shook his head fiercely, trying to fling the thought from his mind.
I'm not some medieval priest. I don't like little boys!
"Exchange?" A faint voice suddenly reached his ears, so soft it seemed like an illusion.
Lu Mingfei did not catch it clearly. The boy repeated, "Exchange?"
This time, Lu Mingfei heard him, but did not understand. "Exchange what? Even if you want to trade something, you have to tell me how we're supposed to make the exchange!"
"So you still refused?" The boy