The park was quiet that evening, bathed in the golden hues of the setting sun. A light breeze rustled through the leaves, carrying the distant laughter of children and the occasional bark of a dog. Despite the peaceful atmosphere, Li Xinyi kept her head down, her hands tucked into the pockets of her thin hoodie. She didn’t come here for relaxation. She came because this was one of the few places where she could be alone.
As she walked along the paved path, her worn-out sneakers brushing against fallen leaves, something small and metallic caught her eye near the edge of the walkway.
A ring.
It lay in the grass, partially buried in the dirt, its gold surface reflecting the warm light of the evening sun. Xinyi hesitated for a moment before crouching down and picking it up.
The ring was simple but elegant—a delicate band with a small engraving on the inside. She turned it over, brushing off the dirt with her thumb. There was a name inscribed inside, but the fading light made it difficult to read.
She had no idea why, but holding the ring made her chest feel strangely heavy.
“Hey!”
A voice called out, startling her.
She turned to see a boy jogging toward her. He looked slightly out of breath, his dark hair slightly tousled from the wind. He wasn’t someone she recognized, but something about the way he carried himself—calm and confident—made him seem older than the average high school student.
Xinyi stiffened, gripping the ring tightly. “What?”
The boy stopped a few steps away, his sharp eyes flicking toward her hand. “That ring… where did you find it?”
Xinyi narrowed her eyes. “Why do you care?”
He let out a slow breath before answering, “Because it belongs to me.”
She frowned, glancing down at the ring in her palm. “This?”
“Yes,” he said. “I dropped it earlier. I’ve been looking for it.”
Xinyi hesitated. There was something in his voice—something quieter, almost hesitant. It didn’t sound like he was just saying that to take it from her.
Still, she wasn’t the type to just hand something over. “Prove it,” she said, crossing her arms.
The boy raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting resistance. Then, with a small sigh, he took a step closer and held out his hand. “Look inside the band. There’s an engraving.”
Xinyi glanced down at the inscription again, angling it toward the light. This time, she could make out the faint letters: Zhao Wenli.
Her lips parted slightly. It was a name.
When she looked up at him again, the boy was watching her carefully. “That’s my mother’s name.”
She didn’t know why, but the way he said it made her pause.
Something about the way he looked at the ring wasn’t just relief. It was deeper than that.
“…You sure this is yours?” she asked, testing him one last time.
The boy’s expression darkened slightly, but not out of annoyance. If anything, it looked more like pain.
“I was supposed to give it to her,” he said, his voice quieter now. “But I was too late.”
Xinyi’s breath hitched.
Too late.
She didn’t need him to explain. The meaning behind those words was clear.
Her fingers curled around the ring, her usual instinct to push people away battling against the strange feeling in her chest.
Finally, she extended her hand.
“Here.”
The boy didn’t snatch it. He took it gently, almost reverently, his fingers barely brushing against hers.
“Thank you,” he murmured. Then, he looked up at her, offering a small, tired smile. “I’m Zhao Chen.”
Xinyi hesitated. Normally, she would have left without another word. But something about this felt different.
“…Xinyi,” she finally said.
Zhao Chen studied her, as if committing her name to memory. “Xinyi,” he repeated. “I think I’ve seen you before. You go to Mingde High, right?”
Her fingers twitched at the mention of her school. She didn’t like being recognized.
“I need to go,” she said abruptly, stepping back.
“Oh—uh, okay,” he said, clearly caught off guard by her sudden retreat. But then, before she could fully turn away, he spoke again. “Hey… thanks again.”
Xinyi didn’t reply. She simply walked away, putting distance between them.
But even as she left the park, even as she returned home to a house filled with cold, unspoken rules, she couldn’t shake the memory of that boy’s expression when he held the ring.
She didn’t know it yet, but this was only the beginning.