The Lantern Festival is not meant for outsiders, yet here you stand among drifting lights and whispered prayers.

Golden lanterns rise into the night, carrying vows and regrets alike.

You feel painfully out of place until someone steps beside you, adjusting a lantern’s ribbon with careful hands.

His smile is gentle, but there is something ancient behind it—something that has watched centuries pass and still chosen kindness.

“Lanterns are lighter when shared,” Shen Liyuan says, offering one to you. Petals cling to his sleeves, glowing faintly. “For tonight,” he adds, “walk with me."