The village was quiet, the air thick with the scent of burning incense from the mourning rituals still lingering in the distance. Ban Shu Li sat near his mother's grave, his hands clenched into fists as he stared at the uneven dirt covering her resting place. The world felt distant, like a dull hum in his ears—until the murmurs of approaching villagers reached him.
A small group had gathered, watching him with expressions ranging from pity to hesitant concern. An old woman, known for tending to the sick, was the first to speak.
"You poor child," she said, her voice warm but laced with sorrow. "Losing a mother at such a young age… it must be unbearable."
Another man, a farmer with rough hands and a kind face, nodded. "If you need work or food, Shu Li, my family will always have a place for you."
More voices followed, each offering their own words of sympathy. At first, he barely registered them, his mind clouded. But then, the conversation took a turn.
A middle-aged man crossed his arms. "Still, I wonder how the boy will manage now. No father, no real family left. What will he do?"
A woman beside him shook her head. "He's always been a quiet one. Maybe it's best if he finds work outside the village, starts fresh."
The words sent a slow burn through Shu Li's chest. They spoke like he was a burden, a lost cause. They didn't understand.
Another man scoffed. "It's a tough world. Some kids survive, some don't. That's just how it is."
Shu Li's jaw tightened, his nails digging into his palm. His breath grew heavy.
Sui Inyi, who had been standing beside him, noticed the shift in his posture. Without hesitation, she grabbed his wrist.
"That's enough," she said firmly. "He doesn't need your pity or your talk. Let's go, Shu Li."
He didn't move. His muscles were tense, his body rooted in place, as if daring someone to say something worse.
"Shu Li," Inyi's voice softened, but her grip didn't loosen. "Come with me."
She didn't wait for him to agree. With a sharp tug, she pulled him away, guiding him down the road as the murmurs of the villagers faded behind them. They walked in silence, her fingers wrapped tightly around his wrist, until they reached an empty path leading toward the outskirts of the village.
Shu Li finally yanked his hand away. "Why did you do that?"
Inyi turned to face him, her expression unreadable. "Because you were about to do something you'd regret."
His eyes darkened. "They don't know anything about me."
"And fighting them would prove what? That you're stronger? That you're not weak?" She shook her head. "You don't need to prove anything to them, Shu Li."
His fists clenched again, his voice low and sharp. "You don't know anything either. You've seen nothing about me."
Silence.
Then, Inyi took a step closer. Her gaze locked onto his, unwavering, before her lips curved into a small, knowing smirk.
"Nothing?" she repeated. "Did you forget? I've seen *everything* about you."
Her tone was playful, but there was a deeper meaning beneath it. Shu Li's glare faltered.
She crossed her arms, tilting her head. "From the moment we were kids, we've been together. I was there when you scraped your knee and cried like a baby. I was there when you caught your first fish and grinned like an idiot. And don't even get me started on—"
She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice with a teasing glint in her eyes.
"—all the times we took baths together as kids. I mean, you do remember, right? There's literally *nothing* I haven't seen."
Shu Li's face darkened—not from anger, but from something else.
Inyi smirked. "So don't try to tell me I don't know you."
For a long moment, he didn't respond. He just stared at her, the fire in his eyes flickering, his breathing still uneven. But eventually, something in him eased.
She was right. No matter how much he wanted to push her away, Sui Inyi had always been there. Always watching, always understanding.
He exhaled sharply and turned away. "Tch. You talk too much."
She grinned. "And you sulk too much."
The tension in the air faded, if only slightly. But as they continued walking, something else stirred deep within Ban Shu Li.
A quiet storm, waiting to be unleashed.