"Aoi, come and finish your lunch!" Li Hua's voice echoed through the cozy, cluttered kitchen, cutting through the steady hum of cicadas outside. The aroma of freshly steamed rice and stir-fried vegetables mingled with the faint scent of incense from the shrine in the corner, creating a warm, familiar haze.
Li Hua, Aoi's aunty, stood by the stove, stirring a pot of miso soup with a worn wooden ladle. A woman of sturdy build and kind eyes, Li Hua had a quiet strength about her — the kind that came from years of hard work and sacrifice. She paused, pushing back a loose strand of graying hair with the back of her hand.
"Aoi!" she called again, this time with a sharper edge to her tone. She wiped her hands on her faded cotton apron and turned toward the open window, where the thin evening breeze rustled the curtains. The setting sun cast soft golden streaks across the floor, but the warmth in the room didn't ease the knot of worry in Li Hua's chest.
"This girl can never be in control... what will I even do with her?" she sighed, shaking her head. Her thoughts drifted to the countless times Aoi had wandered off — chasing butterflies through the village fields, climbing trees like a wild cat, or exploring the nearby woods with a reckless curiosity that often left Li Hua breathless with worry.
But tonight, Aoi had other plans.
She had heard stories of vegetables that grew high up in the mountains — rare and wild, tasting sweeter and crisper than anything found in the village. And Aoi's adventurous spirit couldn't resist the call. Without a second thought, she grabbed her small woven basket from the kitchen table and slipped out the back door, her heart thumping with excitement.
"Li Hua, I'll be out for tonight — don't worry!" she called over her shoulder, already halfway down the garden path.
"Aoi!" Li Hua's voice chased after her, but Aoi was already gone, her slender figure disappearing into the dusky light.
The path to the mountains was steep and winding, but Aoi moved with practiced ease. The cool evening breeze tugged at her long dark hair as the moonlight filtered through the thick canopy of trees, casting silvery patterns on the rocky trail. Crickets sang in the distance, and the soft rustle of night creatures stirred the undergrowth.
After what felt like hours, Aoi reached a secluded clearing where the ground was covered in a lush carpet of wild greens and vibrant vegetables. The dew-kissed leaves glistened under the moonlight, and the sight filled Aoi with quiet wonder. She crouched down and began to pick the freshest ones — tender shoots of wild asparagus, crisp mountain lettuce, and even a few bright red berries that gleamed like jewels.
Her basket filled quickly, but Aoi lingered a moment longer, closing her eyes as the cool mountain breeze brushed her cheeks. The peace here was different — quiet and ancient, as though the mountains were breathing along with her.
When Aoi finally returned home, the kitchen was dimly lit by the soft flicker of a single lantern. Li Hua stood by the stove, her face shadowed by worry. But when Aoi stepped through the door, cheeks flushed and hair wind-tousled, Li Hua's expression softened.
"Where have you been?" she asked, her tone sharp but her eyes betraying her relief.
Aoi grinned, holding up her basket proudly. "Look what I found!"
Li Hua sighed but couldn't stop the small smile tugging at her lips. She reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind Aoi's ear. "You shouldn't scare me like that," she muttered. But Aoi could feel the warmth in her touch.
After dinner, as Aoi sat curled on a floor cushion, Li Hua sat down beside her, hands folded neatly in her lap. Her eyes softened as she looked at the girl she had raised.
The memory of the day she found Aoi was still vivid in her mind — the baby, nestled among the blooming orchids in the garden, had looked up at her with wide, trusting eyes. Her small hands had reached out, grasping Li Hua's finger with surprising strength. From that moment, Li Hua knew that this child was hers.
Years had passed since that fateful day, and Aoi had grown into a spirited and curious young girl. Li Hua had become her guardian, her mentor, her anchor — the closest thing to a mother Aoi had ever known. Despite the village's persistent attempts to convince Li Hua to marry, she had always refused. The thought of a husband who might not love Aoi with the same fierce devotion made her stomach tighten with dread.
The villagers often whispered about Li Hua's choices. They couldn't understand why she would remain unmarried when so many suitors had shown interest in her. But Li Hua knew what was most important.
One afternoon, as Li Hua was tending to her vegetable garden, a group of village women approached her, their voices bright with anticipation.
"Li Hua, we have a very good proposal for Aoi!" one of them exclaimed, her smile wide and eager.
Li Hua straightened up slowly, brushing the dirt from her hands. Her eyes hardened. "Shut up."
The women flinched, their smiles faltering.
Li Hua adjusted her dress and stood tall, her gaze sharp as a blade. "Aoi is my responsibility. I will decide what is best for her."
"But Li Hua," another woman ventured cautiously. "She's growing up. She needs a family of her own."
Li Hua's gaze softened — but only slightly. "She has a family," she said quietly. "She has me. And I will always be here for her, no matter what."