Story Reader / Event Story / Lingering Stars / Story
Over by the river, people are drawn in by the glow of lanterns, pairing off and having a blast.
Someone floats a lantern onto the water, sparking cheers all around.
Holding this lantern from the merchant, you are not sure what wishes to pack into it.
Scanning the scene, you see a familiar figure in white approaches.
Are you also sending off a lantern?
Looking down, you see Haicma holding a river lantern shaped like a flower in her hand.
The shopkeeper over there mentioned we should put our wishes inside, and some kind of deity will grant them.
I've read some ancient mythologies.
Back then, people believed the sky held all sorts of mysteries, like the tale of immortals meeting over the Bridge of Magpies during Valentine's Day, which is also the lover's day in Kowloong's tradition.
Worried the deities might miss the bridge in the dark, humans lit up the river with lanterns.
Even as humans venture into the skies and beyond, this myth still gets passed down through the ages.
Well, as long as there are dreams out of reach and moments of helplessness, humans will keep holding onto hope for a bit of divine intervention, right?
Haicma nods, gesturing toward the lantern. There's a neatly folded piece of paper and a pink candle nestled inside.
Yes, let's.
The lantern drifts off into the distance, disappearing from view.
It's today's "record." Look.
She takes your hand and leads you toward the crowd.
Back on the freshly minted commercial street, you are met with chatter full of optimism. You take a deep breath... the aroma of bustling life fills your senses.
Unnoticed, lanterns sprinkle the river, creating a shimmering bridge of light.
Humans at the bridge's edge move forward, and at their beckoning, a pristine white mechanoid also slows its pace.
Those records document the weather on our journey, the flowers along the roadside, the humans we passed by, and, you, the one I've been hoping to see.
I've even run the numbers on the likelihood of running into you tonight and pictured how you'd look today.
The streetlights blur together in front of Haicma's eyes, blending with the smiling faces of the humans around us.
There was a 27.83% chance we would cross paths tonight.
But on this day every year, I hope our chances of running into each other stand at a solid 100%.
