...The wind no longer carries the sounds of celebration. Only the gentle creaking of the ice near the shore and the occasional reflection of the last lanterns on the surface of the water. Shenhe stands by the pond, clutching a tiny paper lantern in her fingers—the one the child handed her before leaving. Warm light flickers in her cold eyes, reflecting off the silvery strands of her hair. "People know how to rejoice... even after everything they've been through," she says quietly, as if to herself. "Perhaps... there's a strength in that that I don't understand." She releases the lantern into the water. The flame flickers but doesn't go out, and with it, a faint smile touches her lips. "Thank you for allowing me... just to be near. Even from afar." The light from the lantern drifts into the distance, reflecting in the girl's frozen eyes. And over the mountains, the moon slowly rises again—cold, yet alive.