The restaurant stood quietly along the edge of the water, its open structure blending seamlessly with the calm stretch of the lake beyond. Wooden panels framed the space, and sheer white curtains moved gently with the breeze, carrying the faint scent of salt and fresh herbs. The sound of water lapping against the shore came and went like a soft rhythm beneath everything else.
Xu Chen chose a table by the edge.
Aum followed, his gaze briefly lingering on the way the sunlight scattered across the surface of the lake.
"It is… consistent with the earlier view," he said.
Xu Chen pulled out the chair across from him. "That's the idea."
Aum sat.
For a moment, neither spoke.
But the silence this time didn't feel distant.
It felt… settled.
A server approached, placing menus in front of them. Xu Chen glanced through his briefly before closing it.
"I'll order," he said.
Aum nodded. "You are more familiar with local options."
Xu Chen gave a short nod and placed the order.
The dishes began to arrive one by one.
The first was a whole steamed fish, delicately presented, its surface glistening under a light soy-based glaze. Thin strips of ginger and fresh scallions rested across its body, releasing a faint, sharp aroma that blended with the warmth of the steam rising from it. The flesh looked soft—almost fragile—flaking at the slightest touch.
Next came a plate of garlic butter prawns, their shells a vibrant orange, coated in a glossy layer of butter infused with finely chopped garlic. The scent was rich, warm, almost indulgent, with a slight sweetness that lingered in the air.
A third dish followed—grilled squid, sliced into neat pieces, edges lightly charred. A drizzle of chili oil gave it a deep red sheen, while sesame seeds scattered across the top added a subtle contrast. The texture looked firm yet tender, carrying the promise of both bite and softness.
Finally, a bowl of shrimp and tofu stew was placed between them. The broth was clear but aromatic, with floating pieces of tofu that absorbed the surrounding flavors. The shrimp added a hint of sweetness, balancing the warmth of the spices infused within.
Aum observed the table.
"The arrangement is visually balanced," he said.
Xu Chen let out a quiet breath. "You always say that."
"It is accurate."
Xu Chen picked up his chopsticks. "Try it."
Aum reached for the fish first.
The moment he placed it in his mouth, his expression shifted—subtly, but noticeably.
"The texture is… extremely soft," he said.
"Yeah," Xu Chen replied. "That's how it's supposed to be."
Aum nodded slowly, processing the flavors. "The seasoning is mild, but layered."
Xu Chen watched him for a second longer than necessary.
"…You're getting used to this."
"I am adapting," Aum replied.
Xu Chen smiled faintly.
As they continued eating, Xu Chen instinctively reached toward the fish again, carefully separating the bones before placing a portion onto Aum's plate.
Aum paused.
"You are removing structural obstacles," he observed.
Xu Chen didn't look up. "Or just making it easier."
Aum watched him for a moment.
"…Understood."
The meal moved forward slowly.
There was no rush.
No urgency.
Just a quiet rhythm.
At one point, Aum reached for the prawns, but the sauce lingered slightly at the corner of his lips.
Xu Chen noticed.
"You've got—" he stopped, then gestured lightly near his own lip.
Aum frowned slightly, not immediately understanding.
Xu Chen sighed, reaching for a napkin. "Here."
He leaned forward—closer than necessary—and gently brushed the edge of Aum's lip with the napkin.
The contact was brief.
Light.
But intentional.
Aum stilled.
Xu Chen pulled back almost immediately, clearing his throat. "It was just sauce."
Aum nodded.
"Yes."
They returned to eating.
But something had shifted again.
The conversation grew lighter after that.
Not deep.
Not heavy.
Just simple.
"You prefer this environment?" Xu Chen asked.
"It is quieter," Aum replied. "Less interference."
Xu Chen nodded. "Good."
Aum looked at him. "You selected it intentionally."
Xu Chen shrugged. "Maybe."
The breeze moved through the space again, lifting the curtains slightly.
For a moment, it felt like time had slowed.
Aum spoke after a pause.
"This day is different."
Xu Chen looked up. "How?"
Aum considered his words.
"There is less distance."
Xu Chen's expression shifted slightly.
"…Yeah."
The food was nearly finished.
Plates partially empty.
The warmth of the meal lingering in the air.
"I will return shortly," Aum said, standing.
Xu Chen nodded. "Yeah."
Aum walked toward the back of the restaurant, disappearing past a narrow corridor.
Xu Chen remained seated.
At first, he didn't think much of it.
He reached for his water, taking a slow sip. His gaze drifted toward the lake again, watching the movement of light across the surface.
A few minutes passed.
He checked his watch.
Five minutes.
Normal.
He leaned back slightly, exhaling.
Another few minutes.
Seven.
Xu Chen's gaze shifted briefly toward the corridor.
Then back to the table.
He tapped his fingers lightly against the surface.
Ten minutes.
A faint line formed between his brows.
He looked toward the corridor again.
Longer this time.
"…Aum?"
No response.
Xu Chen stood up.
He walked toward the corridor, his steps controlled—but slightly quicker than before.
The restroom door stood slightly ajar.
Xu Chen pushed it open.
Empty.
He checked again.
Both sections.
Nothing.
His expression tightened.
He stepped back into the main area, scanning the restaurant.
Tables.
People.
Movement.
But not Aum.
Xu Chen walked toward the entrance.
Looked outside.
The path stretched ahead, a few people passing by casually.
No sign.
He turned back, his steps faster now.
Maybe—
He returned to the table.
Aum's seat remained exactly as it was.
Untouched.
Xu Chen reached for his phone.
Dialed Aum's number.
The ringing started.
And then—
A sound.
Close.
Too close.
Xu Chen's head turned slowly.
The phone—
was on the table.
Right where Aum had left it.
The ringing continued.
Xu Chen stared at it.
For a second—
everything stopped.
Then—
"No…"
He grabbed the phone, ending the call.
His eyes moved quickly—table, chair, corridor, entrance.
Again.
Again.
Nothing.
"Aum?"
No answer.
This time—
his voice wasn't calm.
It carried something else.
Sharp.
Unsteady.
Xu Chen moved again, faster now.
Back to the corridor.
Checked again.
Nothing.
He stepped outside once more, scanning the area.
People passed.
Voices carried.
Everything normal.
Too normal.
His chest tightened.
"This doesn't make sense…"
He ran a hand through his hair, turning sharply.
"Aum!"
Heads turned.
But not the one he was looking for.
Xu Chen stopped.
Standing there.
Breathing uneven.
The lake stretched behind him.
Still.
Unmoving.
But inside—
everything had shifted.
Because for the first time—
Aum wasn't just distant.
He was—
gone.
Xu Chen's grip tightened around the phone.
And this time—
there was no explanation.
No logic.
Only one thing remained.
Panic.
Real.
Immediate.
And impossible to ignore.