The air was cold. Not the kind that made you shiver, but the kind that seeped into your bones, wrapping around your heart and sinking deep into your soul. Ban Shu Li sat on his knees, his fingers curled into the damp earth, his nails caked with dirt. His breathing was shallow, his body unmoving, except for the slight tremble in his shoulders.
Before him lay a mound of freshly turned soil—his mother's grave.
His hands felt numb, yet he could still remember the warmth of hers when he last held them. It wasn't long ago, just yesterday, but it felt like a lifetime had passed since then. Her touch, her voice, her presence—everything was gone. Only silence remained, thick and suffocating.
He wanted to scream, to rage against the heavens, to curse whatever cruel fate had taken her away. But his throat felt tight, his chest hollow, and all he could do was sit there, staring at the grave, waiting for a miracle that would never come.
Then, footsteps. Soft at first, hesitant, before growing steady. He didn't turn around. He didn't need to.
She was here.
A gentle warmth settled beside him, close enough that their shoulders brushed. There was no hesitation when a soft hand reached out, running through his hair, fingers brushing against his forehead like they always did when he was upset.
"Shu Li..." The voice was quiet, filled with something he couldn't quite name. Understanding? Pain? Love?
Sui Inyi.
She had been there since the beginning. His childhood friend, the only one who had ever stayed by his side. The one who knew him better than he knew himself.
She said nothing else, just sat there with him, her fingers moving through his hair in slow, rhythmic strokes. He didn't move, didn't react, but something in his chest loosened, just a little.
Time passed, but he had no idea how much. Seconds, minutes, maybe even hours. The world had lost its meaning.
Then, she spoke again, her voice barely above a whisper.
"She wouldn't want to see you like this."
His fingers clenched into the earth. "I know."
"Then why?"
"Because I don't know what else to do," he admitted, his voice hoarse. "She was everything, Inyi. Everything."
"I know."
A gust of wind passed between them, carrying the scent of wet soil and wilting flowers. He finally turned his head, just slightly, enough to see her out of the corner of his eye.
She wasn't crying. She never cried, not in front of him. But there was something in her eyes—something deep, something raw. She understood.
Without a word, she moved closer and pulled him against her. His head rested against her shoulder, and for the first time since his mother took her last breath, he let himself break.
A choked sob escaped his lips, then another, and before he knew it, he was crying. Not the quiet, restrained tears of before, but the kind that shook his entire body. His hands gripped her arms, his fingers digging into her skin, as if afraid that she, too, would disappear if he let go.
She said nothing. She didn't tell him to stop, didn't whisper empty words of comfort. She just held him, her warmth steady and unyielding, her fingers still running through his hair.
And in that moment, for the first time since his mother left him, he didn't feel completely alone.
Tomorrow, the pain would still be there. The emptiness wouldn't fade. But for now, in this fleeting moment, he allowed himself to grieve.
( Hey readers I am writer I am here to tell you that in this novel starting few chapters are emotional but afterward it will gonna bloody way and full of wars , thy starting chapters are there to clear you that future will may not be confused)