The following morning, Shu Yan woke with an unusual sense of peace, as though a weight had been lifted from her spirit. She felt the river’s presence more keenly than before, its quiet energy thrumming in her veins, soft but insistent. As she looked out her window, the early light cast a serene glow over the village, and the river sparkled with a vitality she hadn’t seen since her return.

With a renewed purpose, Shu Yan set out towards the river, sensing that the spirit was calling her once again. As she walked, she noticed that some villagers watched her with curious, even wary, expressions. Conversations subsided as she walked by, and a few villagers exchanged glances before quickly averting their gazes.

At the riverbank, she took a seat beside the altar, her fingers brushing over the worn stone, feeling a sense of familiarity she couldn’t quite place. She closed her eyes, letting herself connect with the river’s energy. For the first time, she felt as though her own heartbeat was in sync with the river’s flow, steady and enduring.

“You’ve chosen your path,” a voice said softly.

Shu Yan’s eyes snapped open to see Aowen standing nearby, his gaze thoughtful. His presence felt heavier, as though he, too, carried a part of the river within him.

“Aowen,” she greeted, her voice steady. “I made my choice, but I don’t fully understand it yet.”

The monk nodded, his expression unreadable. “The bond you’ve restored is not just a responsibility—it’s a connection that ties you to the spirit and to this land. You’ll begin to feel what the river feels and understand its sorrow and its strength.”

Shu Yan absorbed his words, a strange sense of calm washing over her. She looked back at the water, its surface reflecting the sky. “Will the villagers understand?”

“They will, in time,” he replied. “But know this: not everyone will accept your choice. Fear and resentment linger in places where understanding is absent.”

To emphasise his words: Shu Yan caught sight of a group of villagers watching from a distance. Their expressions displayed a blend of curiosity and caution, suggesting that she was unfamiliar and potentially dangerous. She recognised a few faces, including those that had avoided her since her return. They murmured among themselves, their voices carrying an undertone of distrust.

“Why are they afraid?” Shu Yan enquired, her voice barely a whisper.

Aowen’s gaze softened. “The river’s spirit has been part of this village for generations, but when your family broke the pact, it left the people vulnerable. Some believe the river’s misfortune brought hardship to the village, and they see you as the bearer of that misfortune.”

Shu Yan’s heart clenched at his words. She hadn’t considered the possibility that her family’s actions had affected the village so deeply. The weight of their betrayal felt heavier now, mingling with her own guilt.

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“I don’t want them to suffer because of me,” she murmured.

Aowen placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Restoring the bond is the first step. Over time, they might realise that your choice was out of duty, not ambition.

She nodded, her resolve hardening. She would keep her promise to herself and the river spirit, even if the villagers doubted her.

That evening, as Shu Yan returned to the inn, she felt the energy in the air shift. The villagers had gathered in small groups, whispering as they watched her pass. She caught fragments of their conversations—words like “guardian,” “river,” and “curse” drifting to her like leaves in the wind.

Inside the inn, Grandmother Lin awaited her with a cup of tea, her face a mask of quiet understanding.

“They’re beginning to notice, aren’t they?” As Shu Yan sat down, the old woman made a gentle yet knowing comment.

Shu Yan nodded, her hands wrapped around the warm cup. “They don’t trust me. They think I’m here to bring misfortune.”

Grandmother Lin sighed, her gaze distant. “People fear what they don’t understand. Your family’s choice left scars on this village, Shu Yan, and marks take time to heal. But you mustn’t lose heart. The river knows your intentions, and that is enough.”

Her words brought a measure of comfort, but Shu Yan’s heart was still heavy. She sipped her tea in silence, wondering how she could bridge the divide between herself and the villagers, how she could prove to them that her intentions were pure.

The next morning, Shu Yan returned to the riverbank, her mind filled with thoughts of the village’s distrust. As she approached the water, a sudden surge of energy filled her—a connection that nearly overwhelmed her senses. She closed her eyes, focusing on the bond she had forged, and allowed herself to feel the river’s heartbeat—a steady, rhythmic pulse that echoed in her chest.

And then she saw it—a vision, vivid and clear, flashing across her mind.

She was standing in the centre of the village, surrounded by villagers; their faces were both fearful and hopeful. In her hand, she held a small vial filled with water from the river. She lifted it, her voice strong and unwavering, as she spoke words of renewal and unity, words that would restore the village’s faith in the river.

The vision faded, leaving her breathless. She understood now—this was what the river wanted from her—a ceremony to renew the village’s connection, to heal the rift her family had created. It required her spirit connection and the villagers' support.

As she opened her eyes, Aowen appeared at her side once again, his expression thoughtful.

“You’ve seen it, haven’t you?” he asked.

Shu Yan nodded. “The river showed me... The river revealed to me a ceremony that would restore the village's faith.

Aowen’s gaze softened, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. “Then the river has accepted you fully, Shu Yan. It’s chosen you as its guardian. Now, it’s up to you to bring the village together.”

Shu Yan took a steadying breath, her heart racing with a mixture of fear and determination. The path was clear, but it wouldn’t be easy. She would have to win the villagers' trust and prove the river's spirit was with them.

For the first time since her return, she felt a sense of purpose, a calling that resonated deep within her. She would pay tribute to the river, mend the rift between her and the village, and re-establish the shattered bond.

As she stood by the river, the gentle flow of the water a comforting presence beside her, she knew that she was ready.