Prologue: The Moon

“Brother, the moon is so big tonight!”

The girl in the bear pajamas leaned over the windowsill, gazing up at the night sky through the thick security bars. Her clear, bright eyes sparkled with delight, and the furry bear ears on her hood wobbled as she moved her head.

“Since I started school here, I haven’t seen such a big moon in ages. Don’t you think so too, brother?”

Her voice was full of innocent charm. When Mu Qing didn’t hear a reply for a long moment, she turned around in confusion—only to see her silly cousin standing behind her, motionless, as if spellbound.

The dim light made his expression impossible to read.

“Brother?” Her tiny, adorable hand waved vigorously in front of Mu Yu’s eyes, pretending to be fierce with claws bared. But there was nothing threatening about her—she was more like a kitten bluffing, impossibly cute.

Usually, as a devoted big brother, Mu Yu would clutch his chest and put on an exaggerated face of being overwhelmed by her cuteness. But tonight, he only drew back his gaze stiffly, his face frozen.

His trembling hand pinched the side of his thigh, trying not to let it show, forcing himself to lean against the balcony door so he wouldn’t collapse.

He slowly managed to squeeze out a smile.

“Be good, it’s late. Time for bed.”

Mu Qing tilted her head quizzically. His voice didn’t seem to come from his vocal cords, but from every ounce of strength in his muscles—each word faint and firm as if spoken with finality.

“Brother, you—”

“Oh, right, go take care of anything urgent in the bathroom first. It’d be a shame if you wet the bed in the middle of the night.”

As if suddenly remembering something, Mu Yu interrupted her with a forced, teasing tone, placing his hands on her delicate shoulders.

Mu Qing responded with a dramatic eye roll.

“Brother, I’m not a child anymore. I don’t wet the bed, you—”

Before she could finish, her cousin gently nudged her off the windowsill and into the room.

“Hurry up. Who was it last time sneaking the sheets into the washing machine in the middle of the night, huh? Did you really think I didn’t know?”

“Hmph! Can’t you let me finish a single sentence?” Exposed, Mu Qing stamped her foot in mock indignation, her face flushed with embarrassment, but obediently walked into the bathroom, not noticing Mu Yu’s back was already damp with sweat under the dim lights of the balcony.

He had only just stepped into adulthood, and already it felt as if he was taking a direct step into the grave.

Slowly locking the balcony door, Mu Yu’s mind raced with wild, aimless thoughts. He wondered what his epitaph would say—an exemplary youth? A devoted brother?

But truly, he wasn’t thinking of anything at all. Just coaxing Mu Qing off the balcony had exhausted all his courage.

He pressed his forehead against the cold glass door of the balcony. Summer had already set in, and every night the wind howled through the cracks in the building, mingling with the blare of car horns and the unique bustle of the world.

But tonight, there was no sound. The world seemed to fall silent in this moment—except for the faint, sweet singing and the shower from the bathroom, all else was strangled into stillness.

It was as if bowing low before an ancient emperor—his dragon robe tattered, his face withered and decayed—who, upon returning to the world, compelled even the moon to bow its proud head, submitting without daring to shine.

Mu Yu struggled to lift his hand to cover his pounding heart, the organ thundering with such intensity he felt dizzy.

But nothing happened.

Everything seemed merely a figment of Mu Yu’s wild imagination.

He stood there uncertainly, maintaining the pose for over ten minutes. Aside from a sore back and neck, and a head spinning from fright, nothing else happened.

Was it really just his imagination?

He let out a long sigh, patted his face, and, little by little, hesitantly turned around. His limbs, stiff for so long, creaked with discomfort.

It was the same night sky—the yellow moon hung high among drifting clouds, everything so normal it was eerie.

“Honestly, I’m too old to keep scaring myself like this.”

Mu Yu shook his head with a bitter smile. The stagnant air seemed to move again, and he finally noticed the sticky sweat on his body. A chill wind made him shiver.

“Alright, time to go,” he muttered, shaking his limbs as if to loosen them, limping slightly as he opened the balcony door and headed inside.

“Ow, my leg’s numb.” He crouched to rub his calf, and for reasons he couldn’t explain, glanced back over his shoulder.

Perhaps it was confusion over his own hallucination, or maybe a vague, unnameable regret.

His pupils involuntarily widened.

It had stood there since ancient times, illuminating every inch of earth—the only light in the night, the god once sung of by the ancients.

For centuries, humankind had reached for it, striving to draw near. Under its gaze, they had multiplied and survived through endless ages.

Suddenly, it blinked. And outside the window, nothing remained but darkness.

Under the dim lights, Mu Yu slowly closed his eyes. From the bathroom came his sister’s cheerful singing.

“Oh, god…”

May 26th, 2021.

Beneath the gaze of the world, the moon blinked.