Lingering Echoes

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The sky had cleared. From the street here, looking back, the silhouette of Mount Yuantan was still visible. Whether day or night, viewed from a distance, it always presented an impenetrable celestial canopy.

The city streets were now bustling with people; any silence was dissolved into the mingling voices and the flow of traffic, extinguishing any lingering sense of mystery.

A young man hurriedly jogged past, and only when he glanced up did he realize dawn had arrived. He panted heavily but his mind refused to settle.

It was truly like seeing a ghost. Didn’t Fu Heng say a few days ago that strange things were happening in the city and to be cautious? Yet today, he had encountered it himself: that hollow chest, eyes vacant and lifeless, cold and silent—not like a living person at all.

Stopping in his tracks, he glanced around like a cat searching for something, growing suspicious.

Since yesterday, he had been hearing—

Startled, he spun around as someone tapped his shoulder.

A woman with black hair and dressed in black stood before him, always keeping herself in the shadows, avoiding the gaze of passersby. Her figure was indistinct, blending into the darkness; despite being close, she exuded a sense of aloof distance. The only unmistakable detail was her pair of black gloves and the overly thick book she held, its deep purple cover radiating an aura of mystery.

She pointed behind him.

Something had fallen.

The young man hurried to pick it up and was about to thank her when it happened again—a near replay of the scene, so vivid that not only did he hear it, he saw it.

By the time he snapped back to reality, the woman had silently slipped away. He rushed to find her but only caught sight of her black silhouette from afar.

Staring in that direction, a strange expression crossed his face—half pleased, half doubtful, inscrutable. Then he quickly composed himself, prepared to leave, muttering, “I really must find him soon.”

Returning to the shadows, unfamiliar changes rippled through the dawn.

Peering out the window, few pedestrians passed by.

In Shang Ye’s heart, images of them involuntarily surfaced—Zhu Ming’s brilliant smile, Li Cang’s soft whispers, and her own silent response.

“Dawn”—born from its obscure and uncertain nature, once thought to be a mere seasonal shift, now revealed itself as a reversal of heaven and earth. Living here and searching for years, Shang Ye had long known that the land called Dawn was deeply intertwined with many things, extending far beyond. Yet only now did she realize that what she knew was but the tip of the iceberg. She wished to bring matters to an early close, but a foreboding sense wrapped around her like layers of mist, leaving her lost and unable to discern if the path ahead was good or ill.

“Dawn has its fate, which none of us can comprehend. Just as each of us harbors hidden depths that unknowingly determine our course—” a figure emerged behind her, speaking in riddles.

Shang Ye raised her hand to interrupt, tightening her black gloves. The man who stepped forward wore a smile above his brows. Though handsome and neat, his eyes held a certain mystery, but his tone was crass and grating.

“What if I told Brother Yun what you’re planning? Would that ‘fate’ still hold, hmm?” Shang Ye had gotten along with him so far but found his chatter tiresome. If someone was assigned to follow her, couldn’t they pick someone less talkative or mystical?

“Don’t, seriously! If you tell Ji Linyun, he’ll surely kick us all out of Dawn. He’ll tell him everything down to the last detail, just not now,” the man seemed anxious but as he stepped closer, added, “But let’s keep jokes to a minimum. After all, we still need you.”

“Still need me,” Shang Ye pondered a moment before replying, “In the past, I might not have considered another choice. Now, I really can’t say.”

The man said nothing more but wore a smile. Yet Shang Ye caught a flicker of anger hidden in his narrowed eyes. Huh, the first time she’d seen him show emotion.

“Heh, honestly, we’re all disgraceful now, nothing like Brother Yun and his crew who earn trust through righteous deeds,” Shang Ye said. The man still smiled and shifted the topic.

“So, how much longer must we wait?”

Shang Ye glanced out the window. The woman with the long braid still crouched there, bored, waiting for someone. Suddenly, she looked toward Shang Ye’s position. It seemed she had noticed her. Shang Ye rose to leave, silently hoping:

May it be nothing more than a passing storm.

Some time later, they reached their destination.

Taking the elevator up, the person beside her changed to a young woman in a suit, noticeably shorter than Shang Ye. The young girl beside her was somewhat reserved.

“I’ll help you carry that,” the young woman offered, pointing to Shang Ye’s book, but Shang Ye smiled and declined.

The elevator shot upward. Shang Ye lost herself in thought:

“They can actually operate openly in the Shuo Fang Building—at least some of them. No wonder they move covertly through Dawn, evading Brother Yun’s watchful eyes. Maybe it’s because they’re hard to control?”

When the doors opened, she didn’t check the floor number, walking straight in with the young girl trailing behind.

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The vast, empty lobby of the building was illuminated by sunlight streaming through glass from front to back.

Since entering this floor, besides the girl at her side, several others had appeared—some standing in the open, others lurking in shadows. Among those catching Shang Ye’s attention was a man before a sparse cluster of desks, centrally located with an air of reliability. Beside him was a close employee—perhaps a secretary? Nearby stood a disheveled middle-aged man, almost drenched, adopting a deliberately humble posture that made it impossible to read his expression or mood.

Apart from these, many employees resembled the girl beside Shang Ye, some staring intently at her, others standing aside, and a few gazing out the window with their backs turned.

No space was left without them. “They are neither stingy nor exclusive toward their own,” Shang Ye thought.

“Welcome, Ms. Shang Ye.” The man at the center spoke, but she cut him off.

“Hello,” Shang Ye greeted first, her tone clear. “We have plenty of time to get to know each other, so let’s discuss what’s useful. You want to learn the secret of how Dawn extends consciousness into reality. After all, ‘exploring and valuing the human mind and consciousness, behavior can be—or become—its external manifestation,’ is your principle. He mentioned it once; I remember.”

She glanced toward the smiling man nearby.

The man before her bowed his head slightly, smiling lightly. Shang Ye studied him: fit, composed, emotionally steady. Based on her prior knowledge of this organization, she had expected them to be more… how to say… eccentric?

“That is only one of our principles,” he said without elaboration, stepping closer with a smile.

“Ms. Shang Ye, indeed, introductions can wait. I am one of the temporary leaders of our organization’s work in Dawn, and also the controller of this group, responsible for coordinating with you.”

He came nearer and added:

“But before all that, I have something to say to you.”

His demeanor was calm, his tone steady:

“Though we have already reached some understanding with you, Ms. Shang Ye, I speak on behalf of us all to assure you—as you said, we do operate secretly in Dawn, but only for our insignificant goals to be achieved. Discovering Dawn’s secrets is necessary; beyond that, we have no excessive ambitions.”

His tone held no arrogance, even a hint of humility as he explained:

“So, it is not due to any remnants of the past, nor old agreements, and no unavoidable fate exists.”

“Once again, I ask you, Ms. Shang Ye, solely for our shared principle, to cooperate with us because of your uniqueness.”

Though his words seemed sincere and heartfelt, Shang Ye showed no sign of inclination—no compliance, no impatience—only tightening her gloves to be sure.

At that moment, the drenched middle-aged man approached and tapped the speaker’s arm, signaling him to stop.

“Before our goal is achieved, I won’t leave your side.”

Having said this, Shang Ye turned and left. The group looked puzzled by her attitude—aloof yet speaking of “our goal.”

“One last thing, Ms. Shang Ye. Our operations are always secretive, and the group must continue to function normally. We will try not to disturb your life, but given your relationship with Director Ji Linyun, all contact, and—”

Shang Ye nodded, signaling understanding. The man smiled.

“I spoke too much. We have arranged a room for you in a hotel managed by our group. I hope it meets your satisfaction.”

Shang Ye had already departed; those remaining in the lobby resumed their duties, save for the speaking man and the drenched middle-aged man.

“Is it just me, or is she worried about something?” the man asked.

“Be careful. We still don’t fully know what she’s capable of. Maybe she can even hear us,” the middle-aged man joked.

“Whether outward or inward, mind and deed consistent—it doesn’t matter if she hears,” the man shook his head.

The middle-aged man chuckled. “She sees more than we do. Maybe this time it really isn’t something simple.”

“More than he sees?”

The conversation soon ended. One smiled as if unconcerned, the other frowned as if overthinking. The man finally said:

“Change your clothes quickly. Don’t catch a cold, but get yourself together.”

Dawn City, even considering only the core urban area, was enormous to an absurd degree. Including areas less frequented by people, it was even larger.

This also provided many hidden places for its secrets.

“Where is this? Fu Heng, really, how do you know about these places?” The young man exclaimed. When accompanied, he couldn’t stop talking. Walking ahead of him was another young man of similar age, but with a calmer demeanor.

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The two had not wandered far from the bustling heart of Dawn. Now they stopped in a quiet urban interstice, peaceful and pleasant, shaded by trees, with intersecting paths, few people and no noise. The unique Mount Yuantan immersed one in its scenery, yet it was hard to grasp the vastness of the metropolis here. This spot felt more like a quiet enclave within Dawn itself. Ascending overlapping stone steps, beyond the railings, towering buildings loomed nearby.

Looking up, only half the sky was visible through thick foliage. They stood at the center of this half-sky.

The only main road led to a nearby tunnel, which had been under construction but was now halted. With so few people around, none but them passed by.

“Fu Heng, I really wonder if I’m losing my mind. Lately, I keep hearing someone calling me, and—ugh—hallucinations so vivid they feel more real than reality itself,” the young man rubbed his head.

Leaning on the railing, Fu Heng gazed out at Dawn’s streets, smiled, and replied:

“So far, your mental problems are quite serious.”

“Sigh, I’m serious…” He rambled on but saw the other smiling and ignoring him, so he asked:

“Weren’t we supposed to get something? We’ve waited so long and no one’s come. Why not just pick it up at the shop? Do you work part-time at a bookstore and run errands? Come to think of it, I haven’t seen you carry anything. Hey, Fu Heng?”

“I volunteered to help. You should head back first, lest you wait too long.”

“Hey, you’ve helped that person a lot already,” the chatty young man laughed. “I’m here to keep you company. I’m not leaving. Once the item arrives, we’ll roam around together.”

“That’ll be a hassle. I still have to work at the bookstore tonight.”

As they waited bored, the quieter one appeared relaxed. The other glanced at him, pleased to enjoy a moment of ease.

Suddenly, a sound caught his attention.

Rain?

Whether by instinct or something else, the young man turned his head.

“Fu Heng… just like I told you—he, he came out from there. It’s him, the one I saw—the person. Can you see him too?”

Fu Heng turned at the sound and noticed a stranger had appeared in the direction they had come.

At a glance, the stranger seemed ordinary, but his chest was pitch black, though not pierced through since the other side was hidden. Moving up, his face was unremarkable, yet his expression was blank and frozen, without any clear emotion. Strangely, this induced a chill.

The strange man lifted his head. Half the sky shone through, illuminating his eyes. His expression subtly shifted, gaining a flowing, vivid quality instead of the previous stagnation. Before either of the two could react, a chaotic, indistinct voice was heard:

“So peaceful.”

Dusk had fallen. Clouds merged with the sky, breathtakingly beautiful.

“Zhu Ming, didn’t Brother Yun say his people had visited Shang Ye’s home? She might not be there now.”

“Let’s see. We still have to accompany Brother Yun everywhere. We’ll bring Shang Ye along.”

Skilled with a key, they opened the door.

Inside, no one was present.

The modest space was dim without lights, but the room was neat, complete, serene, and quiet. Li Cang sat on a chair; this was both Shang Ye’s study and bedroom. She liked modern, functional gadgets, so the room was efficiently arranged.

Hmm? Zhu Ming approached the desk.

Next to it was a fully stocked bookshelf. The desk was slightly cluttered, with a heavy book placed centrally. Its cover bore numerous symmetrical symbols that extended to a beautiful, unusual pattern in the center. It had no title; this was Shang Ye’s own notes, printed anew.

The book lay on the desk, the lamp still on. Normally, Shang Ye would tidy her belongings and not leave before finishing her work. She said she kept things neat for convenience.

Zhu Ming flipped open the notebook. The next page was supposed to be blank, but he found a message.

The writing was lengthy. After reading, Zhu Ming closed his eyes, tilting his head back slightly.

Li Cang sensed something was wrong and leaned closer. The white page held many words, but the key lines read:

“Li Cang, Zhu Ming, you might not see me for a while. I’m leaving without goodbye—sorry, but don’t worry about me. Instead, take good care of yourselves.”

When had dusk ended?

Time was nearly indistinguishable.