The Nozaki Lighthouse stood steadfast upon the southernmost shore of Chiba Prefecture, its white tower as resolute in the sunlight of 2035 as it had been for ages past. Around the lighthouse, steep cliffs and verdant foliage wove together a tapestry both primeval and majestic. A salt-laden breeze carried whispers of ancient times across the land, bringing with it the distant thunder of waves, as though recounting tales long forgotten.

  A vermilion commercial vehicle came to rest at the end of the gravel path leading to the lighthouse, its doors opening slowly as two figures emerged in succession.

  The young man with golden hair and azure eyes stood at the cliff's edge, narrowing those clear, lake-like orbs as he gazed upon the boundless blue expanse. The horizon curved gently with the Earth's arc, while sunlight danced upon the water like countless golden scales. A gentle wind stirred his soft golden locks, and in his eyes shimmered a light mingled with curiosity, reverence, and profound depth.

  "Have you come to mourn Penglai?" the young man asked softly, his voice like a breeze passing over a mountain stream, his gaze never leaving the surging waters.

  LaUhta stood silent beside him, his hair as black as ink slightly lifted by the sea wind. Clad in a simple white robe bound with a plain white sash, he resembled an unsheathed sword of restrained sharpness. His face, though weathered by untold years yet showing no sign of age, bore eyes deep as ancient wells—tranquil, yet harboring unfathomable depths.

  "No," LaUhta's voice was steady and resolute, like a pine of countless ages rooted in stone, each word bearing immeasurable weight, "I have come to remember Mu."

  The golden-haired youth slightly bowed his head, his fair eyelashes casting tiny shadows in the sunlight, fluttering like the wings of a butterfly. He offered no immediate response, merely pressing his slightly parched lips together, as if savoring this strange and solemn name.

  The lighthouse's shadow rotated slowly with the sun's movement, like the hand of time sweeping across the land. In the distance, several seagulls circled in the azure sky, their intermittent calls sometimes clear, sometimes faint, like summons traveling across the vastness of time and space.

  LaUhta drew a deep breath and began walking along the stone-strewn path toward the lighthouse. His steps were steady and powerful, as though traversing the vast expanse of many thousand years. The golden-haired youth followed closely behind, his leather boots making soft sounds as they touched the pebbles.

  Near the lighthouse stood a slender figure, still as a painting.

  Her crimson dress danced magnificently in the fierce sea wind, like a living flame, so brilliant it almost scorched the eyes. Her hair, black as satin, was gathered into elegant buns on both sides, with a few rebellious strands floating in the wind, caressing her jade-like fair countenance. She stood with her back to the newcomers, facing the sea, as though merged with heaven and earth.

  LaUhta found himself halting, his breath catching momentarily.

  His gaze fixed upon the red figure like iron nails, his eyes reflecting many thousands of years of thought and endless memories. Complex emotions surged within his chest like tidal waves—tenderness and bitterness, joy and nostalgia, closeness and distance, all emotions intertwining like brands etched deep into his soul.

  Though Nuwa had not turned around, a confident smile already graced her delicate face, eternally youthful in its mid-teenage appearance. The sea wind swept through her red dress, flickering like dancing flames in the sunlight, accentuating her straight spine and elegant bearing.

  "I knew thou wouldst come," her voice, crisp and melodious as a clear spring, echoed in the sea breeze, interweaving with the sound of waves to form an ancient and distant melody.

  LaUhta's footsteps approached slowly, each step seeming to tread upon the river of time, stirring up subtle ripples. His gaze never left the red figure until he stopped several paces behind her, his voice deep and calm like the surface of an ancient well.

  "How didst thou know?" His words were brief yet laden with meaning.

  Only then did Nuwa slowly turn to face LaUhta. Her amber eyes, bathed in sunlight, took on an enchanting golden hue, sparkling with mischief, as if holding the wisdom of countless ages and irrepressible playfulness. The sea breeze gently caressed her hair, a few black strands dancing gracefully in the air like ribbons of ink.

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  She raised her slender, fair fingers, bringing them together in a mysterious gesture. Her brow assumed a deliberately serious expression, though her lips betrayed a hint of amusement, mimicking the solemn tone of a traditional fortune-teller.

  "A simple calculation of the fingers revealed it."

  LaUhta watched as her expression shifted effortlessly between solemnity and mischief, the corners of his mouth involuntarily curving upward, the ice in his eyes melting into the tender waters of spring. The two symmetrical beauty marks at the corners of Nuwa's eyes danced with her smile—a unique charm that only LaUhta knew well, an unchanging mark across the long ages of the world.

  The golden-haired youth keenly perceived the wordless understanding between the two and tactfully retreated several steps, turning toward the parked vehicle.

  Nuwa and LaUhta stood side by side along the cliff's edge, their gaze crossing the azure sea surface, as if seeking some trace visible only to them.

  "There, once lay a corner of the continent of Mu," LaUhta's voice was deep and gentle, bearing the weight of many thousands of years, each word carrying an unspeakable burden and endless longing.

  Nuwa nodded slightly, the rolling waves and distant horizon reflected in her amber eyes. "I can still recall the dawn over that land," her words were soft as gentle rain, carrying undisguisable nostalgia, "when sunlight leaped from the eastern horizon, pouring golden radiance upon the mountain peaks, awakening all things to vibrant life."

  A fleeting light passed through LaUhta's eyes, like a momentary twinkle of stars in the night sky. "Now, naught remains but endless waves and memories."

  In the distance, birds crossed the sky, as if traversing the river of time, bearing witness to the rise and fall of this land and the changes it had undergone. LaUhta unconsciously extended his hand, his long fingers trembling slightly, as if trying to touch that distant and illusory space, to grasp those memories that had already vanished.

  Nuwa quietly observed his profile, seeing the rare vulnerability and nostalgia in the eyes of this otherwise strong and unyielding man, and a ripple of tenderness stirred within her heart.

  "Hast thou ever wondered if anyone else remembers the existence of that place?" Nuwa spoke softly, her words carrying a measure of solitude and contemplation, her gaze distant, as if piercing through the mists of time.

  LaUhta pondered for a moment, his eyes growing deep and resolute, as one who has seen through life, death, and time: "The key lies not in whether others remember, but that we still do. As long as memory endures, that civilization will never truly perish."

  Nuwa bowed her head slightly, a glimmer of gratification and agreement flashing in her golden eyes: "Truly spoken. As long as we remember, Mu will never fade. Its wisdom, culture, and spirit will continue to flow through us."

  Her gaze suddenly turned toward the golden-haired youth waiting in the distance, curiosity and inquiry flashing in her eyes. "Who is that young man? Thy new apprentice?"

  LaUhta's expression softened, his gaze carrying a barely perceptible pride. "Indeed. After saving his life, I took him under my guidance. He possesses rare talent and an indomitable will."

  "Is he the first apprentice thou hast taken since her?" After a moment's silence, Nuwa's voice was nearly imperceptible, almost dispersing in the sea breeze. A flicker of emotion, difficult to discern, passed through her eyes—something like nostalgia, or perhaps sorrow.

  "Yes," LaUhta nodded slightly, his gaze shifting a little, as if avoiding a complex past, "those who can touch the 'One' during their first encounter while on the brink of death are exceedingly rare, let alone being fortunate enough to cross my path. Fate sometimes works in such wondrous ways."

  The sun gradually set in the west, golden rays spilling across the sea surface, dyeing the entire seascape a brilliant golden red. Their shadows stretched upon the rocks, intertwining like two parallel lines in the river of time, finally intersecting at a certain point.

  "Since we have met again, I must taste thy grilled fish," Nuwa suddenly said, her voice filled with expectation and nostalgia. Though a thousand years had passed, some things remained ever constant, unchanging. Her golden eyes sparkled with eager light, the corners of her mouth lifting in an innocent smile, as if she had once again become that little girl who would willingly walk two days through the mountains just for a taste of grilled fish.

  LaUhta glanced at her helplessly, yet the corners of his mouth involuntarily curved upward: "Fishing is now prohibited in this area, I fear I must disappoint thee."

  "Then we shall go elsewhere. There must be places where one can fish," her eyes were full of expectation and insistence, as if this small matter were more important than anything else.

  LaUhta shook his head in resignation, yet his eyes revealed tender indulgence. Some friendships transcend the countless ages of the earth, remaining unchanged; some promises, though seemingly small, are worth a lifetime to fulfill. By the seaside that had witnessed the rise and fall of civilizations, two ancient souls reunited, carrying nostalgia for the past and expectations for the future, continuing their long and solitary journey.

  The fading rays of the setting sun bathed them in a golden glow, gilding their silhouettes like two eternally shining stars in the river of time, never to be extinguished.

  ---

  And many thousands of years before, on the ancient continent of Mu, the wheels of destiny had begun to turn silently...