The morning carried on like any other. The village stirred awake with the scent of freshly baked bread and the murmur of neighbors greeting each other. A cool breeze swept through the dirt paths, rustling the thatched roofs and causing the hanging cloth banners above shop stalls to flutter gently.

Shen Mu stepped outside his home, taking a deep breath of the crisp air. The faint scent of damp earth lingered from the previous night’s rain. For the first time in days, he felt almost normal. The memory of that fractured sky still rested in his thoughts, but it no longer overwhelmed him.

As he walked down the village path, passing the baker’s shop, Old Chen called out to him, “Morning, Shen Mu. Off somewhere?”

Shen Mu nodded. “To the stream,” he replied. His voice was calm, measured—just as it had always been.

Old Chen didn’t look at him strangely, nor did he pause for too long before returning to stacking his buns. It was only after a moment that he glanced back and added, almost absentmindedly, “You seem quieter than usual.”

Shen Mu blinked. “I’ve always been quiet.”

Old Chen chuckled. “That’s true.” He waved him off, already turning his attention to a customer approaching the stall.

That was it. A small remark. Nothing more. But it lingered in Shen Mu’s thoughts as he continued toward the outskirts of the village.

He reached the stream not long after, the gentle sound of water flowing over smooth rocks filling the air. It was a place of familiar solitude, one of the few places he could gather his thoughts without interruption.

As he crouched near the water’s edge, dragging his fingers through the cool current, he caught movement in his peripheral vision. A small bird perched on a rock nearby, tilting its head as if studying him.

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Normally, birds flitted away at the first sign of movement, yet this one lingered, its dark eyes locked onto his.

Shen Mu didn’t move. He simply observed.

The bird stayed there for several long seconds before finally taking flight. The moment passed, but something about it felt… off.

Not wrong. Just different.

The animals were not afraid of him anymore.

“Shen Mu.”

He turned to see Li Mei standing a few steps away, a woven basket in hand, filled with freshly gathered herbs. She was watching him, but there was no hesitation in her eyes—just curiosity.

“I didn’t expect to find you here,” she said with a small smile. “You always come to the stream early.”

Shen Mu nodded. “It’s peaceful at this time.”

She walked over and crouched near the water, rinsing a handful of herbs. “The village has been talking about you.”

He tilted his head slightly. “About me?”

Li Mei pursed her lips, then shrugged. “Not in a bad way. Just little things. They say you’ve been a little different lately. Quieter than usual. A little… distant.”

“I don’t feel different,” Shen Mu said simply.

She studied him for a moment, then smiled. “Maybe you just needed time to yourself. Sometimes people overthink things.” She let the topic drop without pressing further.

Shen Mu appreciated that.

They sat in silence for a while, the sound of water filling the gaps between words neither of them needed to say.

As Shen Mu walked back through the village, he decided to take a different path, one that passed through the old orchard. Rows of fruit trees stretched out before him, their blossoms swaying gently. The scent of ripening peaches drifted through the air.

He reached out absentmindedly and placed his palm against the bark of one of the larger trees, feeling the rough warmth beneath his fingertips.

Then, it happened.

For only a split second, the world around him… shifted.

The orchard became silent. Not the natural quiet of a peaceful morning, but an unnatural, absolute stillness. The wind stopped. The rustling leaves froze mid-motion. The air became thick, as if pressing against his skin.

A strange weight settled in his chest.

It was as though he was no longer standing in the orchard, but somewhere else entirely.

A faint hum echoed in his ears, low and distant, like something ancient speaking from beyond the veil of existence.

Shen Mu’s eyes widened. His breath caught.

Then, just as suddenly as it came, the moment was gone.

The wind returned, the leaves danced again, and the scent of peaches filled the air once more.

Shen Mu’s hand was still on the tree. His pulse was steady, but his mind was racing.

He pulled his hand back slowly, flexing his fingers. The bark had felt normal—yet, for a brief instant, it had been something entirely different.

What was that?

He exhaled, turning away from the tree and continuing down the path. He did not rush. He did not panic. Instead, he tucked the experience away in the back of his mind, another piece of the puzzle that was slowly forming around him.

Something had changed.

Not in the village.

In him.