The sun slipped below the horizon, scattering a few stars in the misty sky. The moon, perfectly round like a compass, cast cool silver light—it was a quiet kind of beautiful.
As night fell, even under the dark veil, a certain small mountain still showed signs of vibrant greenery. At its base sat a humble village.
Here, folks lived simple lives, waking at sunrise and resting with the dusk.
Most residents in this place shared the surname Green, so gradually, people started calling it Green Village. Whatever it used to be named was long forgotten. Nowadays, if anyone talks about it, it’s just "Green Village."
…
Warm breezes passed along the path, and the starlit sky shimmered like it had been inlaid with pearls.
In one thatched cottage near a stream, the quiet of the evening was broken by clucks and barks.
A soft candle flickered quietly inside, its flame like a small blooming flower glowing with a gentle light.
Suddenly, a child’s lively voice came from within.
"Mother, Big Bro Sam said he saw an immortal in the county yesterday. Do people like that really exist? Can they really fly and do magic and stuff?"
By the window, Grace Green sat sewing under the candlelight. Though her skin was a bit sallow from long years of hard work, there was still a gentle prettiness to her face. The old candleholder glowed beside her, casting light while she worked on patching clothes.
Hearing her daughter’s innocent question, Grace paused briefly, surprised. Then she met the child’s wide, curious eyes and smiled tenderly.
"I can’t say for sure, sweetie," she replied softly. "But lots of folks believe in them. So maybe... maybe immortals are real."
Her voice flowed gently, calm as a small mountain spring.
She lowered her head and kept sewing. Her husband would need these clothes washed and mended once he returned home.
Immortals, huh...
Grace had come to the village with her father twenty years ago while fleeing famine. Nobody ever found out where they’d come from. When asked, they’d just give a vague smile and stay quiet.
People caught on and stopped asking.
A few years after they settled here, her father died from illness, leaving Grace alone to face the world.
When she came of age, she married Oliver Green, a local man. Now, she was mother to two.
The family didn’t have much, but they had each other. That was enough.
"He was probably making it up again! Don’t believe a word Sam says. He still owes me eggs from the last time he fooled me! You stay away from him, or one day you’ll get taken and end up thanking him on the way out!"
The speaker, Marcus Green, was just starting his growth spurt—clearly in that awkward in-between age. Though he looked a little skinny, his eyes were bright, his nose straight, and already he showed signs of the man he’d become.The boy clearly wasn’t thrilled, his face written with irritation—mostly aimed at that “Sam” kid next door.
“No way! Sam didn’t lie to you, and that egg was mine! You’re the one who lied! You’re such a meanie, big brother!”
The little girl shot back loudly, clearly upset about the ownership of the egg and furious that her brother had tried to claim it for himself.
She looked about five or six, with a soft round face that would be considered quite pretty—though at the moment, it looked extra puffy from her sulking. Her big brown eyes sparkled like glass grapes under long lashes, lively and expressive like a startled fawn.
Now, however, her brows were drawn together tightly, and her little mouth was so pouty it looked like she could hang an oil jar from it. She stared at her brother with sharp disapproval.
She wasn’t stupid—she knew full well that egg was the result of her brother losing a bet with Sam two days ago. No one had tricked anyone—he’d just been salty about losing.
Marcus met his sister’s gaze, suddenly feeling a bit sheepish.
He tried to steady his voice and said sternly, “Anyway, there’s no such thing as fairies. Those stories? All fake.”
“Hmph! If anyone’s lying, it’s you!”
“I’m not! I’m your brother—you shouldn’t take someone else’s side!”
“I side with the truth! If you’re wrong, I’m not letting you off just ‘cause you’re family!”
...
Grace had only spaced out for a brief moment. When she snapped back, her two children were already bickering full force.
Marcus could tell Heather was genuinely annoyed now, so he resorted to his trusty old trick.
He scooped her up—using almost all his strength, his face turning red from the effort—and gave her a little spin.
Just one spin, and the tension had more or less melted.
Watching this scene, Grace found herself chuckling despite herself.
Those two were always like this—fighting one moment, laughing the next. They might squabble, sure, but their bond ran deep.
They knew their limits. No matter how loud the quarrel, in no time they’d be thick as thieves again.
As a parent, sometimes it was best not to interfere. Better to let siblings work things out on their own.
Right then, a couple of knocks sounded at the old wooden door, followed by a man’s deep voice.
“Grace, open up! I’m home!”
Grace startled, immediately setting down her needlework.
That voice... was her husband’s.
But wasn’t he supposed to be away for two more days? Why was he back so soon?
Barely stopping to think, she jumped to her feet and hurried to the door.
Outside stood a tall man, rugged and tired, with a scruffy beard and windburned face. Even through the stubble, some of his handsome features still showed.
The moment he saw Grace open the door, his rough features softened. He gave her a sheepish grin, reaching up to scratch his head.
This man was none other than Oliver Green, her husband who had gone to find work in town.
The sight of him made Grace gasp with both shock and joy. She quickly tugged the door open wider and ushered him inside.
“You’re back already? Are you hungry? I’ll make you some noodles right now!”
But Oliver gently grabbed her arm before she could skitter off to the kitchen. His eyes were red with weariness, but warm as always."I already ate in town before heading back, no need to fuss. The shopkeeper gave me the rest of the tasks earlier, so I wrapped them up and was allowed to leave ahead of time. Said I worked quick and clean, even tossed in an extra hundred coins for the effort. Thought we could use the extra to buy some meat this month. You and the kids haven’t had a proper meal in a while..."
Oliver Green's words flowed nonstop as he spoke, while Grace Green quietly closed the door behind him and popped the latch into place, listening to him ramble all the while.
The moment he stepped into the house, his sharp-eyed little girl spotted him. Without a second thought, she tossed aside her brother, arms spread wide as she rushed over with a cheer and dove into Oliver’s arms.
"Papa! You're back! I missed you so much. Why were you gone so long this time? Next time you go away, can I come too?"
"Is that so? Well, if Lily wants to go, then next time Papa will take her to the county town for some fun, how about that? Come here, let Papa take a look at our little Lily. Oh dear, you’ve lost weight. Have you not been eating well lately?"
Holding his daughter close, Oliver hoisted her up and gave her a playful scolding look. Lily laughed out loud, wriggling happily in his arms.
"She's been eating like a horse! Yesterday she had two full bowls of rice," Marcus Green huffed, clearly annoyed.
The siblings, who had just made up moments ago, were back to bickering again. Marcus was feeling a bit envy-struck, catching how his father only greeted his sister the moment he stepped through the door. Still, he held back from pushing his way in. He knew Papa must be tired from work.
Even so, the way Oliver doted on his sister without even glancing his way left the boy feeling a bit left out.
Oliver glanced over at his sulking son, eyes full of amusement. He waved him over, and Marcus approached, shy yet eager.
Freeing one hand, Oliver gently patted his son's head.
"Our Marcus is really growing up, taking care of your mother and sister while I'm away. I can go out with peace of mind now."
The praise lit up Marcus's face in an instant. His cheeks blushed red, eyes sparkling, shoulders squared with pride. He tilted up his chin and puffed out his small chest.
He really had looked after them while Papa was gone. At just ten-something years old, Marcus took his father’s approval to heart. In that moment, all he wanted was to grow up faster—to be strong enough to look after his mother, father, and sister.
Grace paused at the doorway, taking it all in. Her eyes softened immediately.
This was her family now—her husband and her children. Over ten years ago, she’d fled here from famine, losing her only kin along the way. Now, she had people to love and be loved by again.
Her daughter, Lily—well, her proper name was Heather Green. The name originally came from "Linghua," the word found in the *Nine Songs* of the *Chuci*: “With lotus canopy and chariot of diamond rushes, to the palace of abalone and halls of jade.” Grace had given deep thought to the name.
She had read a little in her youth, knew a few characters. She had first intended to name her daughter Linghua, but later felt Heather had a smoother ring to it. And so, the name was settled.
