Breeze

Chapter 12 - Unspoken Words

Xiao Zhan hadn’t slept well since Yibo shared his unsettling dream. The vision of Ruolai confessing his love on his deathbed was haunting, but what troubled Zhan even more was how close it felt to reality, as if it weren’t just a dream, but a memory buried deep in Yibo’s subconscious.

The next morning, Zhan found himself in front of the university’s history department office. His fingers itched to knock on the old, wooden door, but hesitation stilled him for a moment. Am I really going to dig this up? But his curiosity—and his concern for Yibo—drove him forward. He knocked twice, hearing the faint shuffling of papers inside.

“Come in,” a gruff voice called.

Zhan stepped into the small office, lined with dusty bookshelves and old artifacts. The professor, an older man with a receding hairline and thick-rimmed glasses, looked up from his desk. His eyes softened with recognition.

“Xiao Zhan, right?” The professor leaned back in his chair, a warm smile tugging at his lips.
“I remember you. You were asking about that old ghost story a while ago.”

Zhan swallowed hard. “Yes, Professor Liang. I… I need to know more about Gu Yiye and Ruolai.”

Professor Liang raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “More? I told you the story as far as I know it—two soldiers, star-crossed by circumstance, their story never fully realized before tragedy struck.”

Zhan shifted in his seat, leaning forward with a new intensity. “There’s something else. Yibo—Wang Yibo, he’s been having these dreams about Ruolai. And they’re not just vague or random. They feel… real.”

“Dreams?” The professor’s voice was laced with curiosity now, his fingers tapping the edge of his desk. “What kind of dreams?”

“He said that in the dream, Ruolai is on his deathbed, trying to confess something important to Gu Yiye, but Yiye never hears it. It’s like there’s this unfinished story, like something’s still unresolved.”

The professor’s smile faded as he folded his hands together thoughtfully. “You think these dreams are connected to the story somehow?”

“I don’t know what to think, but it doesn’t feel like just a coincidence. We need to know more, something beyond just the folklore. Isn’t there any record—anything that could give us more details?”

Professor Liang leaned back in his chair, a deep sigh escaping his lips. “The story of Gu Yiye and Ruolai is one that’s mostly been kept alive through word of mouth. Much of what we know today comes from old war survivors, but…” He trailed off, his gaze distant, as if recalling something long forgotten.

“But?” Zhan pressed.

“There is one place you could look. The university archives hold old letters, diaries, and documents from that period. You might find something there that sheds more light on their lives—or their deaths.”

Zhan sat up straighter, hope flickering in his chest. “You think they might have records about Gu Yiye and Ruolai?”

“It’s possible. During the war, many students here enlisted or were affected by the conflicts. Some kept journals or sent letters to loved ones. It’s not much, but it’s a place to start.”

Zhan nodded, his decision made. “Thank you, Professor. I’ll check the archives right away.”

The professor smiled faintly. “Good luck, Xiao Zhan. But be careful—sometimes, digging into the past brings more questions than answers.”

In the Archives

The next day, Zhan gathered Yibo, Yixuan, and Bai Shu, filling them in on his plan. Yibo had been reluctant at first, his face pale at the mention of the ghost story again, but Zhan’s determination was contagious.