Snow began to fall without warning.

Wei paused beneath the pale sky, breath held, as if the cold had whispered something only he could hear. There was a name on his lips that he could not place. A warmth in his chest he could not explain.

He feels things he cannot remember.
He waits for someone he cannot name.

In a town where winter never seems to end, silence carries more weight than sound — and forgetting feels heavier than loss.

Some winters are not made of snow.
They are made of things left behind.

I just wanted to say a quick sorry for being inactive over the past few days. I was dealing with some minor health issues, so I couldn't update as regularly as I usually do. I'm feeling much better now, and from tomorrow, updates will be back to normal again.


Thank you so much for your patience and constant support. It really means a lot to me 🤍


Chapter 73 - Quick Author Updates