Life in Starfall Village was not glorious, but it was steady. After the raid, people patched their walls, replaced roofs with straw and wood, and swept the ash until the paths seemed almost normal again. Still, the silence persisted. Laughter was softer, and the elders often stared toward the horizon, as if expecting another shadow to fall.

To Xing Yun, the days slid once more into their comfortable rhythms: morning began with the crowing of roosters and his mother's voice; afternoons were spent in the field, weeding or carrying water; and evenings briefly provided time to sit with friends until chores called him home again.

Sometimes, with Liang coming to help in the fields, the jobs went quicker. Liang could always turn even the most mundane tasks into some sort of game. "Whoever pulls more weeds before the sun reaches the tree line wins," he would say, only to groan when Xing Yun beat him by a handful. Other times they carried buckets from the well, Liang splashing water onto Yun's feet until Yun chased him, both laughing like children half their age.

Yet, away from the rest, Yun's mind always went back to that night: the stick in his hand, the shattering sword, the strange silver glow. It was as if a secret had been placed in his chest, one he could never share, one he didn't even understand.

One evening, when supper was done, Yun slipped away to the edge of the fields. Above him, the stars stretched wide, calm and endless. He lay down in the cool grass, folding his arms beneath his head. The villagers often said the stars were blessings of the heavens, but Yun felt something more than that.

"If you really saved me that night… why? Why me?" he whispered softly.

No answer. There was only the wind brushing through the millet, and the soft hum of crickets.

Still, Yun thought—just for an instant—that one star overhead brightened for a moment. He sat up quickly, staring until his eyes watered, but the sky was the same as always. Perhaps it was only his imagination.

On returning to the village, his mother called him to fetch water. Yun slung the already-empty bucket over his arm and ambled towards the well. Passing by Grandma Mei's house, he heard her mutter through the open window.

"The boy doesn't even know," she said in a voice so faint he almost thought he misheard. "But perhaps it's not yet time…"

Yun froze. Was she speaking about him? Or was it just the rambling of an old woman? He stood there for a long moment before shaking his head and moving on.

Ordinary. That's all he wanted to be. Yet, deep in the heavens, someone was watching still.

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