Chapter 2 - Dreams Beneath Black Leaves

Mingyuan did not sleep that night.

Or perhaps he did.

He could never tell the difference anymore.

Ever since autumn began, reality had become unreliable.

The city outside his apartment was silent.

Rain tapped softly against the glass.

The clock read 2:17 AM.

Yet the black leaf sat on his desk.

Watching him.

At least, it felt like it was.

He knew that was ridiculous.

Leaves did not watch people.

Leaves did not appear from nowhere.

Leaves did not survive after turning black as ash.

And yet...

There it was.

Waiting.

Mingyuan reached toward it.

The moment his fingers touched its surface

Darkness swallowed the room.

He stood beneath a blood-red sky.

The air smelled of ancient rain.

Mountains stretched endlessly across the horizon.

Thousands of black leaves drifted through the wind.

Not one touched the ground.

They simply floated.

As if time itself had stopped.

Mingyuan looked down.

His clothes were different.

Ancient black robes.

Silver embroidery.

A long sword hanging from his waist.

And on his chest

The mark.

枯 叶

Ku Ye.

Burning.

Alive.

Pain shot through his body.

Suddenly voices echoed around him.

Thousands of them.

Crying.

Laughing.

Begging.

Praying.

The voices of countless lives.

Countless deaths.

Countless memories.

Then he saw her.

Standing beneath an enormous crimson tree.

The same woman from his dreams.

The same woman from the train.

The same woman his heart somehow recognized.

Ah-Miao.

This time he could see her clearly.

Her white robes moved gently in the wind.

Golden leaves circled around her.

She looked exactly as she had in reality.

And yet...

Infinitely older.

As though she had lived for ages.

Her eyes met his.

The world became silent.

No wind.

No voices.

Nothing.

Only her.

"Mingyuan."

His breath stopped.

It was the first time he had ever heard her say his name.

Yet somehow...

It sounded familiar.

Painfully familiar.

Like hearing a forgotten song from childhood.

He took a step forward.

"So it really is you."

The words left his mouth before he could stop them.

Ah-Miao smiled sadly.

A smile that carried centuries of loneliness.

"You always say that."

"What?"

"Every autumn."

A chill ran down his spine.

"What do you mean?"

Her eyes lowered.

For a moment she looked heartbroken.

"As if you're surprised to find me."

The wind suddenly grew stronger.

Leaves began spinning around them.

Mingyuan's chest burned.

The mark glowed brighter.

Questions flooded his mind.

Who was she?

Why did she know him?

Why did everything feel familiar?

Most importantly

Why did seeing her hurt so much?

He opened his mouth.

Before he could speak

Ah-Miao whispered:

"You don't have much time."

The sky cracked.

Like shattered glass.

Dark fractures spread across the heavens.

The dream began collapsing.

"Mingyuan."

Her voice trembled.

"Listen carefully."

The world shook violently.

The crimson tree started disappearing.

The mountains faded.

Everything was vanishing.

"What is happening?" he shouted.

Ah-Miao looked directly into his eyes.

For the first time, fear appeared on her face.

"Autumn has begun."

The answer made no sense.

Yet somehow it terrified him.

She continued.

"When the last autumn ends..."

Her voice weakened.

"You must remember."

"Remember what?"

The fractures widened.

The dream broke apart.

Ah-Miao's form began dissolving into golden light.

She smiled one final time.

A smile filled with hope.

And sorrow.

And love.

The kind of love that survives lifetimes.

"You promised me."

Mingyuan stepped forward.

His heart pounded.

"What promise?"

But it was too late.

The dream shattered.

He woke up gasping.

The room was dark.

The rain had stopped.

The clock read 4:03 AM.

His entire body was covered in sweat.

His chest burned.

Mingyuan rushed to the bathroom mirror.

Pulled back his shirt.

And froze.

For the first time in his life

The mark was visible.

Faint.

Black.

Ancient.

Two characters.

枯 叶 (ku ye)

A withered leaf.

The symbol from his dream.

The symbol from the throne.

The symbol he had never seen before.

Yet somehow already knew.

A sudden headache struck him.

Another memory flashed.

A voice.

His own voice.

Ancient.

Powerful.

Broken.

" I don't fear death.

Death has known my name for centuries.

I fear forgetting."

The vision disappeared.

Mingyuan stumbled backward.

His hands trembled.

His breathing became uneven.

The mark remained.

Real.

Impossible.

Yet undeniably real.

Outside his apartment window

A single black leaf drifted through the night.

Far above the mortal world.

Beyond stars.

Beyond Heaven.

Beyond the Underworld.

Something ancient smiled.

The cycle had begun again.

And Autumn was only getting started.

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