A Glimpse of Light
Moonfall City's gloom was suffocating, yet there existed rare moments when the shadows seemed to lift—if only briefly. That day was such a moment.
I sat buried in books at the academy, surrounded by towering stacks of scrolls. Since plunging into Moonfall's cutthroat world, leisure had become a distant memory; my nights were filled with the whispers of deals, schemes, and choices yet unmade. Until—
"Gods, these texts might as well be written in spider's ink!"
The exasperated voice pulled me from my thoughts. In the corner of the library stood a man in indigo robes, scowling at a manuscript as if it had personally offended him. His expression—equal parts frustration and bewilderment—was so earnest I couldn't help but smile.
"Struggling with the classics?" I approached.
He turned, blinking in surprise before offering a sheepish grin. "I trade silks and spices, not philosophical riddles. These ancient characters refuse to behave!" His tone carried none of the calculated charm I'd grown accustomed to among merchants—just genuine, self-deprecating humor.
I laughed aloud. The sound felt foreign in my throat.
"Li Jun," he introduced with an informal wave. "My ledgers balance perfectly, but these texts? They might as well be alchemy."
"And yet you brave the academy," I observed.
"Even a merchant hungers for knowledge," he shrugged. "Though I may have bitten off more than I can chew."
There was an ease about him, an unguarded authenticity that stood in stark contrast to the razor-edged company I kept. It drew me in like a sip of clear water after years of drinking poison.
"What do you wish to learn?"
"Ways to sharpen my tradecraft," he admitted, then gestured helplessly at the scroll. "But first—how do you decipher this without losing your sanity?"
For the first time in months, I set aside the weight of my ambitions. "The secret isn't just reading the words," I said, tracing a line of calligraphy. "It's seeing how they live beyond the page. In business, isn't the true art noticing what contracts don't say?"
Li Jun's laughter rang bright through the dusty shelves. "Now that's wisdom worth stealing! Perhaps you'll teach me more?"
As we talked, something long frozen within me began to thaw. The relentless calculus of power faded beneath discussions of poetry and market trends. His presence was sunlight breaking through storm clouds—fragile, fleeting, but undeniably real.
When dusk painted the library gold, I realized with a start that I'd forgotten to watch my words, to measure every gesture. The relief was terrifying.
Moonfall would demand my return to the shadows soon enough. But for now, in this stolen hour, I remembered:
Even the darkest night carries the promise of dawn.
ns216.73.216.174da2
and then Add to home screen.