PROLOGUE
How Yao Found Ziyun’s Lantern
It happened on one of those evenings when the sky slowly melts the sun into golden mist, and the air is filled with the scent of fallen leaves and cool night freshness.
The small park near Yao’s home was almost empty. Only the old plane trees whispered with their branches, as if quietly deciding what stories they should tell the night.
Yao walked slowly, watching the leaves beneath her feet, when she suddenly noticed a soft glow on a low-hanging branch of a plane tree.
A small lantern was hanging there.
It was round and delicate, as if woven from evening air itself. Light ink strokes stretched across its rice-paper surface: clouds, the moon, and a lonely silver bird. A red silk tassel hung below, gently swaying in the breeze.
Yao stepped closer and saw two symbols carved into the wooden handle — a name.
Ziyun.
«Is that your name?» she asked softly.
The lantern trembled ever so slightly. Then it began to glow from within — as if someone deep inside had smiled.
In that shining moment, glowing lines gathered inside the lantern, and a deng-ling — a lantern spirit — appeared.
He was almost weightless and transparent, like warm light turned into mist. His movements were slow and flowing, filled with an ancient quiet that had lived through hundreds of years.
The glowing mist gently floated out of the lantern, touched the ground, and began to take shape, as if woven from air itself. The light grew warmer and brighter — and in a moment, a small, kind old man stood before Yao.
He wore traditional Chinese clothing. His face was calm and gentle, and the same smile that had lit the lantern now lived in his eyes.
He folded his hands and bowed politely.
«Greetings, Yao, child of light,» he said in a voice like rustling paper and the soft chime of a tiny bamboo bell. «My name is Ziyun. I have lived in this lantern for a very long time… waiting for someone who could hear my stories.»
For a moment, he fell silent, listening to the whispering leaves of the plane tree, where the lantern still swayed gently above.
«If you wish,» he continued softly, «I will tell you fairy tales. Each tale is a journey into a magical land. Every time, you will have to make a choice and move forward on your own. Otherwise, the story will not find its happy ending, and dreams will remain unfulfilled. Are you ready?»
«Me?» Yao asked in surprise.
Ziyun nodded.
«Yes, Yao, child of light. I will tell you the very best stories.»
Yao felt as if a tiny spark lit up inside her heart — warm, shy, and completely real.
«Of course I want to.»
The lantern glowed softly, and that evening, magic was born.
That was how their friendship began.
