The man had already prepared the guest room earlier. After dinner, Evelyn stayed upstairs talking with Aunt Claire while Noah stood by the balcony, gazing at Maple Ridge under the night sky with its sparse lights, his heart swirling with complicated feelings.
Before Evelyn brought it up herself, he didn't want to ask about that past that wasn't worth remembering.
He only knew his sister had been adopted and taken away by his parents when she was five. That meant she had spent at most five years in this village.
Five years… Thinking about his own fifth year, his father was still alive then. He had loving parents, a gentle sister who doted on him endlessly, and good friends his own age. Everything was so warm and beautiful, full of laughter.
Some people were born embraced by happiness. Others were born surrounded by endless night.
Noah felt someone tap his shoulder. He turned and saw a slender cigarette offered to him. He waved it off. "Sorry, Uncle Dale. I don't smoke."
The man didn't insist. He skillfully put the cigarette between his lips, lit it with a lighter, took a deep drag, and blew out a large smoke ring.
"You look like a good student—no smoking or drinking, handsome, good grades, just like your dad."
"You knew my father?"
"Otherwise how would your family have taken… taken your sister away back then." The man flicked the ash, gazing up at the vast starry sky. "Your parents came to the village back then to check things out, saying they wanted to build some tourist spot. Our family hosted them for a few days, but after looking around, the whole thing fell through."
Noah remembered his father had indeed worked for a company group with a respectable job. Maple Ridge had beautiful mountains and clear waters; at first glance it did have potential for a resort. Probably some details hadn't been settled.
"Do you know why Claire hasn't visited your sister all these years, and barely even called?" the man asked again.
Noah shook his head. Before, he had thought Evelyn wasn't close to them.
But now it seemed at least she and Aunt Claire cared about each other, maintaining that warm blood bond.
"Because I stopped her. I forbade her from having too much contact with your sister. You saw how the village treats her. For us to live decently here, we at least have to appear to cut ties with her on the surface."
The man spoke lightly, without any emotion, as if talking about a stranger. "Your sister never did anything wrong here. She was just a little girl back then, barely grown. What bad thing could she have done? If anyone's to blame, it's her mother who didn't know her place."
"Did my sister's biological mother… do something terrible?"
"Hah, you're asking me?" The man laughed scornfully. "This village is full of busybodies. Stories get exaggerated and passed around. I'm an outsider by marriage. How would I know what's true and what's not?"
With that he ground the cigarette butt against the railing until the spark died into black ash. "I left towels for you in the bathroom. If you need anything else, just come downstairs and call me."
"Okay. Thanks, Uncle Dale."
After the man left, Noah stayed on the balcony, his mind blank, not knowing what to think, until Evelyn's voice came from behind. "Nate."
"Eve, you finished talking." He turned. The woman had already showered, her long hair loose, wearing a plain white dress with no patterns, the style a bit old-fashioned. On her it looked especially pure and graceful, giving off the gentle, delicate charm of a woman from a waterside southern town.
"Come on. Go out with your sister for a bit."
…
Under the moonlit night, the soft silver glow coated the countryside in a layer of beautiful white. A gentle breeze rustled the grass and flowers—peaceful and lovely.
The mountain path was bright under the moonlight, clear enough without a flashlight. The destination wasn't far; they could reach it in half an hour.
Yet the white dress was too thin to block the winter night chill. Evelyn's skin looked pale, but she never shivered once, just walking silently all the way.
They stopped in front of a black gravestone overgrown with weeds. The inscription was still faintly readable: Lily Thompson.
Evelyn placed the wildflowers she had picked along the way in front of the grave, her voice cool and distant. "Mom, it's been so long."
The only answers were the faint mountain wind and the rustle of insects in the bushes. Noah stood two steps behind her. Evelyn spoke to the gravestone alone. "Your daughter has been unfilial. I haven't come to see you for so long."
"As you wished, I left this village, went to very far places, saw the beautiful world outside, and found the happiness I wanted—with the person I love."
Noah saw Evelyn's hand hanging by her side open toward him. He stepped forward, reached out, and let her take it.
"Hello, ma'am. I'm your daughter's brother, also her student and boyfriend. My name is Noah Miller."
"Mom, I'm really happy now. You rest well over there too. In the future… I might not have the chance to visit you again."
The night wind lifted the hem of Evelyn's dress. Threads of chill floated in the air. She brushed the stray hair blown across her face behind her ear, took one last look at her mother's grave, and turned around.
"Alright. Just a little farther ahead, there's another place. I'll show you."
"Mmm…"
It was a sea of flowers. In the cold winter season, the once colorful blooms had all withered, leaving only a few daffodils and camellias that still bloomed against the chill.
In the vast, flat mountain fields, they could see a tall, straight pine tree standing in the center of the flower sea, its branches lush and full, like a guardian of the woods.
They reached the old tree. Evelyn took out the small shovel she had brought, dug a small hole in the yellow-black soil, poured in the bag of seeds, and covered it again.
"In spring, bright flowers will bloom across these hills, a sea of color, especially beautiful. It's a shame that back then I was still too little—no one took me to see it. The only time I came here was when Mom was buried."
"Eve…"
"Nate, do you know why your sister likes white dresses?"
Noah thought for a moment and shared his guess. "Because your mom said you looked good in white dresses, right?"
"Yes. Your sister's first white dress was bought by Aunt Claire when I was four. The second one… was the birthday gift you gave your sister when I turned thirteen."
Evelyn turned, wrapped her arms around Noah's neck, and hugged him, whispering with utmost tenderness in his ear. "Nate, thank you."
Noah slid his hands to Evelyn's back and hugged her too. "No need to thank me, Eve."
Winter nights were cold, and Evelyn's body even more so—her skin fair, the thin fabric of the long dress barely letting him feel her warmth. She buried her head in the crook of his neck and shoulder, her breath brushing his skin with every exhale.
After a long while, Noah said softly, "Eve, let's head back."
"Mmm. It's time to go back."