That night, as the moon cast its silver glow over the royal palace, Princess Yuyan lay in her bed, the ancient book still resting beside her. The candle at her bedside had long since burned out, and the silence of the night was broken only by the soft rustle of wind against the window. Her chest rose and fell slowly, lips slightly parted as sleep claimed her.
Her dream began in a field of dancing light. Flowers bloomed in colors she had never seen before—petals glowing like embers, stems glittering like stars. She stood barefoot in the grass, the hem of her white sleeping gown brushing the tips of wildflowers. Her pink hair rested softly on her shoulder. Everything was still, hushed like a sacred secret.
Then she heard it.
A soft melody carried by the wind. A flute. The same flute from the dream before.
Drawn by the music, she walked toward a cluster of trees. Their bark shimmered like moonstone, and fireflies danced between their branches. There, beneath a cherry blossom tree in full bloom, stood a boy. His back was to her, his long black hair tied back loosely, the flute raised to his lips.
She paused, watching him. The sound wrapped around her heart like a lullaby she never knew she had missed. When he finally lowered the flute and turned, his eyes met hers. Crimson. Warm. Familiar.
Without a word, he smiled and extended his hand.
Yuyan took it.
The moment their fingers touched, the dream brightened. The field transformed into a garden—lush and ancient, with stone paths, soft lantern light, and koi ponds rippling in the moonlight. It wasn't her palace garden, but it felt like home.
They ran.
She laughed. He chased. They weaved between trees and over mossy stones, barefoot and free. He showed her a hidden place by a waterfall, where glowing butterflies rested on lilypads. He told her the stones could remember footsteps and that the trees whispered the names of those who once walked there.
Though he didn't speak much, his silence was comforting. She felt safe, deeply safe. They splashed water at each other, lay in the grass, and watched the stars. They played hide and seek behind curved bridges and flower-covered arches.
And in one moment, as she leaned against a tree and he sat beside her, their hands brushed. She looked at him—really looked. His face was so close. His hair framed his jaw like threads of ink. His skin glowed faintly, almost unreal.
"I feel like I've known you forever," she whispered.
He nodded slowly. "Maybe you have."
She blinked. "What's your name?"
The boy opened his mouth to answer, but just then—
The dream trembled.
A sound, a crack like thunder, echoed far off in the distance. The garden began to blur at the edges. The fireflies dimmed. Petals fell in slow motion, dissolving in the air.
"No, wait," she said, gripping his hand tighter. "Please—don't go yet. Tell me your name."
He looked at her with longing, and then with sorrow.
"You'll remember… when it's time."
The world melted into light.
—
Yuyan woke with a start.
Her heart was pounding, her fingers curled tightly into the sheets. She sat up, eyes scanning the room. The candle was out. It was still dark outside but the sun was already coming out.
She touched her chest, where it ached strangely. A tear slid down her cheek before she realized she was crying.
"Who… who was he?" she murmured.
She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to bring his face to mind. The softness of his voice. The warmth of his hand. The sound of the flute. But the image slipped away like smoke between her fingers.
All she could remember clearly was how she felt—with him. As if she had found something she hadn't even known was missing.
She turned to the ancient book beside her. Its cover looked darker now. Or was it the light?
One thing was certain. The boy wasn't just a dream.
And deep down, she knew… they'd met before.
But when?
And where?
And why did her heart ache like it remembered a thousand lifetimes with him?
In the quiet shadows of the ancient forest far beyond the palace, a wind stirred. A melody long forgotten whispered through the trees. And deep beneath the earth, somewhere beyond reach, a seal began to shiver.
The blood-bound were beginning to stir.
Back in her room, Yuyan clutched at the silken sheets, her brows furrowed. She tried to summon his smile, the sound of his laughter, the way he looked at her—but everything blurred, like a painting fading under rain. Her heart pounded with aching familiarity, as though it recognized a soul her mind could no longer grasp.
A soft knock came at the door.
Mei, her loyal maid, stepped inside carrying her morning robe. "Good morning, Princess," she said cheerfully.
Yuyan didn't respond immediately. Her gaze remained distant.
"Mei," she said softly, "please prepare my bath. I'm… not feeling well today."
Mei's smile faded. "Of course, Princess."
Minutes later, the room was filled with the gentle sound of water splashing into the bath. Mei added the usual mix of herbs and jasmine, but Yuyan remained withdrawn. She said nothing as Mei gently combed her hair and helped her into the warm water.
Yuyan stared ahead, her fingers resting limply on the edge of the tub. "He was there again," she murmured, barely above a whisper.
"Princess?"
"Nothing," Yuyan said quickly, shaking her head. "Just… tired."
After the bath, Yuyan dressed in a simple robe and left her chamber alone. Mei watched her go, concern in her eyes.
Yuyan moved quickly through the halls, her slippers silent against the palace stone. She found Prince Leng Yue seated in the east veranda, overlooking the gardens, a scroll half-unrolled on his lap.
He looked up and smirked. "You look troubled. Did the dream come again?"
She nodded and sat beside him without a word.
"It's about the boy," she said. "The one from my dreams."
Leng Yue's smile faded into something gentler, more knowing.
"This time," Yuyan continued slowly, "we talked. We played together. He laughed, and I felt so happy, so safe. I even saw his face. But when I asked him his name... I couldn't get it. And when I woke up... everything was gone. His face, his voice, even the things he said. It's like my mind rejected it all the moment I opened my eyes."
Leng Yue didn't seem surprised. Instead, he leaned back slightly and said, "He said you'll remember him when the time comes. Can't you be patient?"
Yuyan turned to him sharply. "You even know what he said in my dream?!" Her voice trembled with disbelief.
Leng Yue chuckled softly. "I know more than you think."
"Leng Yue," she whispered, "please… If you know who he is—his name—tell me. I need to know. I don't know why, but I… I feel like I'm missing something important. Like a part of me is lost."
But Prince Leng Yue only shook his head gently. "You'll know when you begin to seek what is truly yours… and discover who you truly are."
Yuyan stared at him, stunned into silence.
Frustrated and lost, she rose and left without another word.
Back in her room, she closed the door behind her and called out firmly, "I do not wish to be disturbed."
The guards outside straightened but said nothing.
Inside, the room was still. She leaned against the door, sliding down until she sat curled on the floor, arms wrapped tightly around her knees. Her breath was shallow, and her thoughts spun like leaves in the wind.
Who was he? Why did her heart yearn for a stranger? Why did she feel as if the dreams were pieces of a past life she couldn't quite reach?
Tears shimmered in her eyes, not from pain, but from longing—a deep, aching emptiness that could not be named.
Somewhere, deep within her soul, she knew she had known him before… and feared that fate was playing a cruel game by keeping his name from her.