Whispers of the Past
The morning sun did little to chase away the cold that had settled in Yiling's bones. She moved mechanically, preparing breakfast for the children, her mind already far beyond the hut.
Zhi and Yun'er ate quietly, sneaking glances at her as if they knew something was wrong. She forced a small smile.
"I'm going to the village," she said, keeping her tone light. "We need more seeds for the fields."
Zhi frowned. "Alone?"
Yiling hesitated. "I won't be gone long."
Yun'er gripped her sleeve. "What if—" She swallowed. "What if something happens again?"
Yiling knelt, tucking a stray strand of hair behind Yun'er's ear. "Nothing will happen." A promise she wasn't sure she could keep.
Zhi nodded reluctantly. "Come back before dark."
Yiling ruffled his hair and stood. "I will."
—
The village was already bustling by the time she arrived. Women carried baskets of vegetables to the communal drying racks, children chased each other through the dusty paths, and the blacksmith's hammer rang in the crisp morning air.
But Yiling didn't stop to greet anyone.
She walked straight to the village chief's house.
—
Chief Wang was an old man, his face lined with years of hard winters and harsher truths. He sat outside, watching the village with eyes that had seen too much.
When he spotted Yiling, his expression shifted. "You look troubled."
She didn't bother with small talk. "I need to ask you something."
He motioned for her to sit on the wooden bench beside him. "Go on."
She hesitated only a moment before speaking. "Last night… I saw my husband."
Chief Wang stiffened.
Yiling watched him carefully. "At least, I think I did."
Silence stretched between them before he finally exhaled, rubbing his hands together as if trying to warm himself.
"What did he say?"
Yiling studied him. "You don't seem surprised."
He didn't meet her gaze. "Because I am not."
Her pulse quickened. "Why?"
Chief Wang sighed, his voice heavy with something close to regret. "There are things about this land that should have been buried long ago, Yiling. But the past… it never stays buried for long."
She clenched her fists. "Tell me."
The old man looked at her then, his eyes dark with something unreadable.
"What do you know about the ones who come back?"
—