Episode 2

Chapter 3: The Sacred Grove

Lin Yue ventured into the bamboo grove beyond her village, its green stalks swaying like dancers in a celestial court. Legends spoke of yao spirits here, guardians of the grove’s sacred heart. She inhaled the earthy scent, her sandals crunching on fallen leaves. For the first time in months, she felt alive, as if the grove’s pulse matched her own.

A familiar voice broke her thoughts. “Yue, you’re like a crane hiding in the reeds!” Mei Ling, her childhood friend, emerged from the bamboo, her weaver’s hands dusted with indigo dye. Her braided hair swung as she grinned. “Why stay cooped up? The Lantern Festival’s in three days—come to town!”

Lin Yue clutched the jade pendant, hidden in her sleeve. “I’m not hiding,” she said, though her voice wavered. “I just… like the quiet.”

Mei Ling laughed, tossing a bamboo shoot at her. “Quiet won’t keep you warm, Yue. The festival’s alive—lanterns, music, maybe a handsome scholar!” She winked, but her eyes softened. “You’ve been alone too long. Come, live a little.”

Lin Yue managed a smile. “I’ll think on it.” As Mei Ling vanished into the grove, Lin Yue lingered, sketching the bamboo’s shadows on rice paper. The air shifted, heavy with unseen eyes, and the pendant warmed against her skin. She traced its lotus, wondering if the river’s gift was tied to this place.

A rustle made her turn, but only wind stirred the stalks. “Spirits of the grove,” she whispered, half in jest, “if you watch me, give a sign.” The air stilled, and a single bamboo leaf fell, landing on her sketch. She laughed softly, tucking it into her sleeve with the pendant, but the sense of being watched lingered, both comforting and unsettling.

Chapter 4: The Shadow of Immortality

Lin Yue returned to the bamboo grove at dawn, drawn by the pendant’s warmth. The air was thick with mist, the bamboo casting ghostly shapes. She knelt to sketch a cluster of stalks, her brush dancing across the paper, when her foot slipped on a root. She fell, scraping her knee, and bit back a cry.

As she rubbed the wound, a lotus petal appeared beside her, glowing faintly with a pearlescent sheen. Its fragrance—sweet, like spring rain—soothed the pain, and the scrape began to heal. Lin Yue’s breath caught. “Show yourself, spirit!” she called, standing. “I’m not afraid!”

Silence answered, but the air thrummed, like a zither’s plucked string. She scanned the grove, her heart pounding. The pendant burned against her chest, as if alive. “Who are you?” she whispered, clutching the petal. Its warmth lingered, a silent promise.

At home, she studied the petal under candlelight, its glow pulsing faintly. Her mother’s tales of xian flooded back—immortals who left gifts for mortals they favored, or tested. Was this a test? She traced the pendant’s lotus, its twin to the petal’s shape, and felt a pull toward the river, the grove, the unknown.

That night, her dreams were sharper. A man stood in the grove, his golden eyes piercing the mist. “You see what others miss, Lin Yue,” he said, his voice a melody of wind and starlight. She reached for him, but he faded, leaving only the petal’s scent. She woke breathless, the petal glowing on her table, its light casting shadows like bamboo stalks.

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