The boy looked younger than me- at least, that was my first thought.
But the longer I watched him, the less certain I became.
His hands moved with a strange, effortless precision, as if they no longer needed his attention. The dice slipped between his fingers, rolled across his knuckles, vanished and reappeared- not in tricks meant to impress, but in motions so natural they felt inevitable. Like water flowing downhill. Like wind finding its way through cracks.
And yet…
His face held nothing.
No excitement. No tension. Not even the faintest trace of amusement.
Just stillness.
Not calm- no. Calm had warmth. This was something else. Something empty.
Dead.
The contrast was unsettling.
The more I watched, the more wrong it felt. Not because I could spot a trick… but because I couldn't. Everything about it was too smooth, too perfect, too… right. As if the game itself had bent to him.
It was as though he wasn't playing.
He was allowing the game to happen.
"He won't again…"
"I think we're getting scammed…"
"This isn't luck anymore…"
"That's not fair…"
"That's impossible…"
"I can't believe I lost…"
"Why are we even trying?"
The murmurs grew, rippling through the crowd like unease given a voice. What had started as excitement slowly twisted into doubt, then frustration, then something close to fear.
But the boy didn't react.
Not once.
He simply rolled the dice again.
They left his fingers in a soft arc, struck the ground- and landed.
Perfectly.
Every time.
It didn't even look like chance anymore. The dice hit the surface with a weight that felt… guided. As if invisible threads still connected them to his hands, as if the moment they left his grasp, they had already decided where they would fall.
Controlled.
That was the only word for it.
Controlled in a way that didn't feel human.
A man near the front finally slammed his palm against the table. "This is a scam!"
"Yeah!" another voice rose quickly. "No one can win like this!"
More voices followed, louder, sharper. Suspicion turned into accusation. Accusation into anger.
One by one, people began to step back.
Then leave.
Not all at once- no. Slowly. Hesitantly. Like prey retreating from something they couldn't name.
Within moments, the lively circle had thinned, its energy drained. Coins no longer clinked onto the table. No one dared step forward.
Only the boy remained.
Still standing.
Still holding the dice.
He didn't chase the crowd. Didn't defend himself. Didn't even look disappointed.
Instead, he lifted the dice closer to his face, turning them between his fingers.
Once.
Twice.
Again.
He inspected each edge, each corner, as if seeing them for the first time. As if searching for something hidden.
Then, with a quiet breath, he muttered-
"Nothing so special."
His voice was low. Flat. Almost bored.
He gathered the Wu Zhu coins from the table, the soft clatter echoing faintly in the growing silence. It should have sounded satisfying- victory made tangible.
But it didn't.
Not with him.
Not like this.
It felt… hollow.
And then-
His eyes lifted.
And met mine.
Something shifted.
I couldn't explain it- not properly. It wasn't obvious. Anyone else might have missed it entirely.
But I felt it.
A flicker.
A change so subtle it almost didn't exist- and yet, in that instant, it felt like everything had turned.
His gaze locked onto me, and for the first time, the emptiness cracked.
Not into emotion.
But into awareness.
Recognition.
"We finally met."
The words never reached the air.
No one reacted.
No one turned.
No one heard.
But I did.
Clear.
Certain.
Right inside my mind.
My breath caught.
And then-
The world broke.
Children- running.
Screaming.
Crying.
The sound tore through me before I could understand it.
Flames rose into the sky, devouring everything in their path. Shadows twisted against the firelight. The air thickened with smoke, choking, suffocating
People were fleeing.
Falling.
Dying.
The chaos swallowed everything whole.
I had seen visions before.
Too many times.
Fragments of things that never made sense. Images that came and went like passing nightmares.
But this-
This was different.
This wasn't distant.
This wasn't faded.
This was real.
So real I could almost feel the heat against my skin. Almost hear the crackling of burning wood. Almost smell the ash.
It wasn't a vision.
It was a memory waiting to happen.
Or a future that already had.
"Qianhe Yuan."
The name struck me like lightning.
I didn't think.
I didn't question.
My body moved before my mind could catch up.
I ran.
I didn't know why- I just knew I had to. The thought burned into me, undeniable, unstoppable.
Go.
Now.
Faster.
My legs pushed harder, weaving through the crowd, past lantern-lit streets that blurred into streaks of color. The festival noise faded behind me, swallowed by the pounding of my own heartbeat.
Faster.
My breath grew sharp, uneven, but I didn't stop.
I couldn't.
All I knew- all I knew - was that I had to reach Qianhe Yuan.
Before it was too late.
Before-
Before what?
I didn't know.
But I kept running.
And when I finally reached it-
My steps faltered.
"No…"
The word barely escaped.
"No… no…"
Flames.
Qianhe Yuan was burning.
The fire roared like a living thing, devouring everything it touched. The peaceful place I had seen- the laughter, the warmth, the light-
Gone.
All of it.
Replaced by chaos.
I ran inside.
There had to be a safe place. There had to be somewhere they went during emergencies. The children- Piao- Jun-
They had to be here.
They had to be alive.
"I have to help…"
The words came out broken, barely holding together as I searched, my eyes darting through the smoke and destruction.
I fell to my knees.
"….."