The lanterns outside flickered low, and a soft wind whistled through the wooden slats of the Yun household.
Yun Long slept with a smile still on his face. His legs dangled slightly off the edge of the small bed, and he held a stuffed straw chicken under one arm — a gift from his mother when he was three, now missing one eye.
But tonight, his dreams were not of roasted buns or riverside races.
They began in silence, And then… the sky opened.
He stood alone, barefoot on a wide, endless field of clouds. The world above him was grey — not stormy, not calm — just infinite, like the inside of a stone well turned upside-down.
There were no stars.
There was no sound.
Only a slow, distant thrum, like the beat of a forgotten heart.
Yun Long looked around, confused. He was still wearing the blue robe from Stone-Stepping Day, but it fluttered now as if caught in a wind that didn't touch his skin.
Then something appeared ahead — a pillar of black stone, smooth and tall, jutting out of the clouds.
A single crack ran down its face. Yun Long stepped closer.
The stone hummed.
He reached out — not in fear, but out of curiosity — and touched it with his small hand.
The crack widened....startled, he withdrew his hand from the pillar.
And from within, a single golden scale floated out. It glowed dimly, pulsing once, like a sleeping eye opening.
Then— Thunder.
A soundless roar. Not of a beast — but of pressure, like a mountain breathing.
The cloud beneath Yun Long's feet trembled slightly. He felt nothing — no pain, no fear — but a strange comfort, as if something impossibly ancient had looked at him…
…and then turned away.
The next moment, he was falling.
The sky stretched like smoke, and the golden scale vanished.
---
"Ahhh"....Screaming from the dream.
"Long'er."
A soft hand touched his shoulder.
Yun Long's eyes fluttered open.
Madam Su was leaning over him, her fingers cool against his forehead. Her smile was gentle.
"You're sweating," she said softly. "Bad dream?"
He blinked, confused. "I don't remember."
She kissed his forehead and pulled the thin blanket higher.
"Then it must not have been that bad."
Old Yun called from the main room. "The firewood's been lazy this morning."
Yun Long yawned and scrambled up. His arms and legs felt heavy, but it was the good kind of heavy — the kind after a full day of running.
He didn't think about the clouds, or the black stone, or the strange hum.
The day began like any other.
He ran to fetch water.
He helped his mother to hang clothes.
He counted ducks near the stream.
But later that evening, as he watched the sky turn orange, a single hawk passed overhead — and for a brief moment, Yun Long looked up and felt…familiarity.
As though he had seen the sky from a much higher place.
---