lin yue
741 Words
Chapter 10
The afternoon was quiet.
A soft breeze drifted through the courtyard, stirring the leaves of the small tree near the fence. The girl sat beneath it, her back resting lightly against the trunk. The warmth of the sun touched her skin, but it did little to ease the strange restlessness inside her chest.
The pain had not returned today.
Yet the emptiness remained.
She held the pendant between her fingers, turning it slowly as if it might reveal a hidden answer. The smooth surface caught the sunlight briefly before dimming again.
“Who are you…?” she murmured softly, though she did not know whether she was speaking to herself or the silent object in her hand.
From inside the house came the sound of the old couple speaking quietly.
They had been discussing her again.
“…we should try asking further down the valley,” the old man was saying. “Perhaps someone traveling through the region lost contact with their family.”
The old woman sighed gently. “But how do we ask when we don’t even know her name?”
The words carried through the open window.
The girl’s fingers stilled.
Her name.
The question pressed against her mind like a locked door. She had asked herself the same thing countless times, yet the answer always slipped away.
She closed her eyes.
Think.
Just think.
The world seemed to grow quieter around her. Even the breeze softened as if the air itself were waiting.
Then suddenly—
A flicker.
A sound.
A voice echoing faintly in the distance of her memory.
“Yue…!”
Her eyes snapped open.
Her heart skipped violently in her chest.
“…Yue…”
The word left her lips before she could stop it.
She froze.
Something about it felt right.
Familiar.
Warm.
Her breathing quickened.
“Yue…”
Fragments of something stirred deep inside her mind — not clear images, not full memories, but the faint sensation of someone calling that name again and again.
Lin Yue.
The second part came slowly, like a fragile thread pulling itself free from the darkness.
“Lin… Yue…”
The moment the name formed completely, a strange shiver ran down her spine.
She stood abruptly, her pulse racing.
Inside the house, the old couple heard the sudden movement.
The door opened quickly as the old woman stepped out.
“Is everything alright?” she asked in concern.
The girl turned toward her, eyes wide with disbelief.
“I… I think I remembered something.”
The old man appeared behind his wife, equally alert.
“What is it?” he asked.
The girl hesitated, afraid the fragile memory might disappear if she spoke too quickly.
“My name…”
She swallowed.
“I think… my name is Lin Yue.”
The words felt strange yet deeply familiar on her tongue.
The old couple exchanged surprised glances.
“Lin Yue…” the old woman repeated softly.
The old man nodded slowly. “That sounds like a proper name.”
A small silence followed.
For the first time since they had found her, there was something real to hold onto.
A name meant identity.
A name meant someone, somewhere, might know her.
The old woman smiled gently.
“That’s wonderful, child.”
Lin Yue lowered her gaze, her fingers tightening slightly around the pendant.
“I don’t remember anything else,” she admitted quietly.
“That’s alright,” the old man said reassuringly. “This is already a big step.”
He walked inside and returned moments later with a small notebook.
Carefully, he wrote the name down.
Lin Yue.
“There,” he said. “Now we have something to work with.”
The old woman nodded.
“Tomorrow we’ll ask again,” she said. “We’ll go to the town office, maybe even the city police station if needed. Someone might recognize the name.”
Lin Yue watched the ink dry on the paper.
Her name.
It felt like reclaiming a small piece of herself from the darkness.
Yet even as relief washed over her, a strange unease lingered in her chest.
Because when she had remembered the name…
For just a split second…
She had also felt something else.
Something distant.
Something powerful.
As if somewhere far beyond the quiet village…
Someone else had just felt it too.
And though she could not explain why, the thought sent a faint chill down her spine.
- Writer
