The days stretched on in Starfall, sa as always, yet Yun felt they wasn't quite the sa anymore. Maybe it was because of Shen Yu, or maybe because Yun's own mind wouldn't stop turning since that night he spied the man by the river. But life went on, and life in a village don't wait for anyone to sort out their feelings.
Morning began with the usual sounds hens clucking, pigs snorting, dogs barking like they saw ghosts when it was just a squirrel. Yun got dragged out of bed by his mother's voice again, "Wake up already, if you sleep longer the sun will laugh at you." He stumbled out, rubbing his eyes, pulling on his old robe.
Shen Yu was already awake, of course, like he never slept at all. So mornings Yun saw him near the well, sotis cleaning buckets, sotis just sitting on the low wall staring at the mountains or the sky. This morning he was sharpening a villager's sickle, his hands moving with calm skill. Yun frowned how did a traveler know how to sharpen tools better than even the blacksmith's apprentice?
"Morning, Yun," Shen Yu said, voice too steady for soone working with iron. Yun muttered back, "Morning," and hurried off before more could be said.
The village had gotten used to Shen Yu in a way. Auntie Lin trusted him enough to leave her goats in his care for a whole afternoon. Liang even dragged him to help repair the roof of the storehouse. Shen Yu climbed up with ease, balanced like a man who grew up walking on rooftops, not like a traveler who should've been stumbling.
Kids followed him around too. Little Huzi and Bao pestered him, asking questions nonstop: "Mister Shen, where you from? Mister Shen, why your robe so boring? Mister Shen, can you fight bandits? Mister Shen, do you know magic?" Shen Yu always answered kindly but never really answered, his smile saying more than his words. That made kids laugh and made grownups shake their heads.
One afternoon, Yun and Shen Yu worked side by side stacking wood. Yun's arms ached already, sweat dripping down, but Shen Yu carried three logs at once without looking strained. Yun tried to ignore it, but the words slipped out anyway.
"You're not just so traveler, are you?" Yun blurted, then bit his lip.
Shen Yu didn't look surprised. He set the logs down neatly, brushed his hands together, then said, "Everyone's a traveler, Yun. So roads are just longer than others." Then he smiled faintly, like the answer was enough.
Yun wanted to argue, but his tongue felt heavy, so he just nodded and turned away.
At night, the villagers gathered near the fire again, this ti roasting chestnuts. Smoke curled up, laughter filled the air, soone sang an old folk song about fishing nets and moonlight. Shen Yu sat on the edge, quiet as usual, but his eyes kept flicking to Yun. Yun tried not to notice, but it was like a weight pressing down.
Later, lying in bed, Yun whispered to himself, "Why again. Why always ?" His chest felt tight, like sothing big was waiting just beyond the ordinary days.
The next morning, a small incident happened. A cart coming from the next village broke its wheel near Starfall's gate. Shen Yu walked over, bent down, and fixed it in a matter of breaths, like he had done it a thousand tis. The farr who owned the cart bowed again and again, muttering thanks. Old Guo watched from behind and muttered, "That man's too useful. Too useful for comfort."
Whispers spread stronger after that. So said he was a soldier hiding from war. So said a monk pretending to be normal. So joked he was a fallen immortal, though they laughed nervously after.
Yun kept quiet, but inside he wondered if maybe the joke wasn't too far from truth.
And so, days went on chopping wood, repairing roofs, tending animals, children playing by the well, villagers whispering around Shen Yu. The sa simple life, yet every night Yun looked at the stars and felt that sothing had shifted.
Like the heavens themselves was waiting.
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