Prologue : The Night the Moon Disappeared
Twenty years ago..
The rain had not stopped for three days.
It poured over the mountains surrounding Cangyue, turning narrow paths into rivers of mud and wrapping the ancient forest in a veil of mist so dense that even the moon struggled to shine through it. The villagers had long since barred their doors, believing no sensible person would wander near Moon Mirror Lake on a night like this.
Yet one woman did.
Her coat was soaked through, her dark hair clinging to her face as she hurried along the forest path with a small boy tightly holding her hand. She carried a worn blue notebook against her chest, protecting it from the rain as though it were more precious than her own life.
The boy looked no older than six. Fear clouded his bright eyes, though he tried not to cry. He trusted the warmth of his mother's hand more than he feared the darkness around them.
"Mama," he whispered, struggling to keep pace, "why are we running?"
She looked down at him and forced a smile that never reached her eyes.
"Because tonight you have to be brave."
The answer only deepened his confusion, but he nodded anyway.
They reached the old wooden pier where Moon Mirror Lake stretched endlessly into the darkness. The water was unnaturally still, reflecting nothing—not the trees, not the rain, not even the faint outline of the clouds above. It was as if the lake had swallowed every shadow that came near it.
The woman knelt beside one of the weathered pillars supporting the pier. With trembling fingers she loosened a narrow wooden plank, revealing a hollow space hidden inside. She placed the blue notebook within it, followed by a small brass key and a silver pendant shaped like a crescent moon.
For a brief moment she rested her hand on the notebook.
"One day," she murmured, almost to herself, "the truth will find its way back."
The boy watched in silence, not understanding why his mother was hiding those things instead of taking them with her.
Behind them, a branch snapped.
The woman froze.
Footsteps echoed through the forest.
Slow.
Calm.
Drawing closer with every passing second.
She closed the compartment, stood quickly, and knelt in front of her son. Rain trickled from her hair as she cupped his face with both hands.
"Listen to me carefully, Zichen."
His lower lip trembled.
"If anyone tells you that I disappeared into this lake..." Her voice faltered before she steadied it again. "Don't believe them."
"Mama..."
"No matter what anyone says, remember one thing."
She kissed his forehead.
"I love you."
A bright beam of light suddenly swept between the trees.
Voices followed.
The strangers were close.
The woman looked toward the forest one final time before gently pushing the boy behind the thick trunk of an ancient pine.
"No matter what happens," she whispered, "don't come out until the rain stops."
He reached for her hand.
She smiled.
Then she turned and walked toward the lake.
The little boy wanted to call after her, but fear stole the sound from his throat. Hidden behind the tree, he could only watch as dark figures emerged from the mist.
One of them spoke.
The rain drowned out the words.
Another took a step forward.
His mother did not move.
Lightning tore across the sky.
For a single heartbeat, the entire lakeshore shone white.
When darkness returned...
She was gone.
Only the rain remained.
Only the silent lake.
And above the clouds, where the moon should have been...
There was nothing.
Twenty years later...
An old envelope rested on the reception desk of the Morning Chronicle in Shanghai.
No stamp.
No return address.
Only a single name written in elegant black ink.
Shen Zichen.
Inside waited a letter that should never have existed.
