That night, Luo Chi took the initiative to go back to the living room of the main house with his mother.

The small house was the most reassuring place for him. From the very first day he came to the seaside villa, Luo Chi immediately chose this place. Not only because the scenery was good, but also because it was convenient for either climbing out the window or rushing out the door. Even if he slid down from the roof, as long as he did a roll on the not-too-soft, not-too-hard grass, he could immediately dive into the lush garden.

Not adapting to unfamiliar environments and being wary of strangers were habits left over from his experiences in those three years.

When Ren Shuangmei rushed back from abroad, Luo Chi was still living alone in the hospital. The ten-year-old boy was excessively thin and weak, no taller than the other seven or eight-year-old children in the same ward. He didn’t communicate with anyone else, sitting alone in the corner of a single room, his body covered in unhealed wounds, yet his expression already had a calmness beyond his years.

“Finally, an adult has come to see him,” the doctor at the children’s hospital told her. “If this continues, we were preparing to contact the relevant social departments to intervene… He’s actually a very well-behaved child.”

He was clearly a very well-behaved child. He took his medicine when told, got his shots when told, would say thank you to the doctors and nurses, and would even apologize for his wounds healing slowly. But how could a child be blamed for his wounds healing slowly?

Those wounds couldn’t heal because his body was too weak, he wasn’t properly nourished, and because of the uncontrollable struggles and resistance during his periods of unconsciousness, the wounds would always inevitably tear open. Every time his wounds were redressed, the boy wouldn’t make a sound. But each time, the pain would drench him in a cold sweat. Held carefully by the nurse, he wouldn’t even have the strength to open his eyes, his face as pale as if all the blood had been drained from his body.

With such severe injuries, living alone in the hospital for so long, and rarely seeing any family members by his side, the psychological trauma left by those events was of course impossible to resolve.

“Start with familiar people, and gradually re-engage with the outside world. You can’t rush it.” The doctor explained to Ren Shuangmei, “Traumatic memories of this degree are very likely to persist into adulthood. Even many years later, flashbacks and triggers from specific situations can still occur.”

Seeing Ren Shuangmei’s expression, the doctor felt that this person was different from the others who had come before. But to be safe, after some hesitation, he still said, “He’s not faking it… please give him some time, don’t be impatient with him.”

“He didn’t want to be sick. He wants to get better more than anyone.”

“He’s trapped somewhere. He’s also fighting desperately to get out, desperately trying to return to a normal life.” The doctor pleaded on behalf of the child, “He has tried very hard. Please don’t throw him back.”

---

This time, Ren Shuangmei didn’t let the little one come out of the closet again.

She first expertly knocked gently on the closet door. When Luo Chi was fully awake, he pushed the door open a small crack and peeked his head out. A not-quite-awake little one was even more fun to knead than usual. Ren Shuangmei also sat at the closet door, pulled Huo Miao into her arms for a good, hearty kneading, and then conjured up a comfortable pillow and a soft, light blanket, hiding them all in the closet with him.

Luo Chi was ticklish. His whole body was hot and curled into a small ball, laughing until he couldn’t breathe in his mother’s arms, still holding the guitar-shaped pillow, unwilling to let go.

“You like the guitar that much, huh?” Ren Shuangmei smiled and pressed her forehead against the little one’s. “Are you already super good at it? Have you been practicing secretly?”

Luo Chi held the pillow and didn’t make a sound, the corners of his mouth pursed high, and he nodded vigorously.

“That’s amazing!” Ren Shuangmei was quite surprised. “I thought being able to play ‘Two Tigers’ the first time you touched a guitar was cool enough. Can you play ‘Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star’ now?”

Luo Chi could play “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” that very night.

Playing the guitar relies not only on talent but also on practice, and the ability to endure hardship and pain. Luo Chi found tutorials online himself. Besides his regular daily schedule, he would bury his head in finger exercises whenever he had time. Practicing day and night, his hands no longer felt pain, and the tunes he played became smoother without him realizing it.

Once he was completely familiar with the guitar in his arms, and the chords could be played automatically without thinking, Luo Chi moved the songs he had long stored in his head, the ones he hummed to himself, onto the guitar.

Luo Chi had so many songs he wanted to play and sing. He quickly mastered the technique of improvising, and then immediately became engrossed in it. When he was alone in his little house, he would accidentally play the guitar all night.

He had always been bad at speaking since he was a child. The psychologist who came before had asked him to share his feelings, asking him why he was unhappy, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t say it… but playing it on the guitar was no problem at all.

Luo Chi held his guitar and tried his best to explain what he wanted to say through the music he played. He wasn’t unhappy. With so many things to be happy about, he was always happy. It was just that sometimes he would be dragged back into past nightmares. But even falling back into a nightmare was okay. He remembered all the happy things. As long as he kept remembering them, he could struggle desperately to escape.

Just being able to open his eyes comfortably every day, not being beaten, not having to worry about doing something wrong, not being stuffed into a small, dark room to be hidden away—all of this was already worth being happy about.

Not to mention that now he could wait for his mom to come home every day, and do whatever he wanted every day—to be honest, even now, Luo Chi still had to strictly confirm several times a day that everything was not a dream, that everything was real.

Luo Chi was happier every day than the last. He was no longer just by himself in the garden or on the beach. Occasionally, when he saw people outside, he would also want to gather the courage to say hello. He wanted to take his pastries out to a stall to earn money, wanted to try to venture a little further from the safest places, wanted to play the guitar for people other than the grass, trees, flowers, and birds.

Ren Shuangmei raised an eyebrow. She had guessed some of it. She raised her hand and rubbed Huo Miao’s ear. “Do you want to play the guitar at the bonfire party?”

“Mom will have a lot of friends over. They’ve all been very busy with work lately, and under a lot of pressure.”

Ren Shuangmei thought for a moment and sighed with feigned seriousness. “I wonder if there are any particularly amazing little ones who can go out and play with everyone, be happy together, and make friends together.”

The particularly amazing little one holding the guitar pillow was steaming hot, nestled in his mother’s arms. Although he kept his mouth shut and didn’t speak, he still tried his best to raise his hand high.

Ren Shuangmei forcefully suppressed the corner of her mouth and answered loudly for him, “Huo Miao wants to go out and play, and make friends with super many people!”

Luo Chi opened his mouth. His heart was suddenly beating violently. He nodded vigorously without hesitation. He had also just suddenly discovered that he actually super wanted to go out and play, super wanted to have friends.

Ren Shuangmei took Huo Miao out of the closet and patiently told him about the interesting people she had met and the interesting things that had happened. She was a natural storyteller, making every event vivid and colorful, soon captivating the little one so much that he couldn’t tear himself away, completely unaware that he had been led to the spacious big bed.

“It’s always a bit difficult at first.” Ren Shuangmei told him, “You might hit a wall a few times. Not everyone likes to make friends, but that’s not our fault.”

Luo Chi was pulled onto the bed by his mother and tucked in, with the guitar pillow placed next to him.

Ren Shuangmei sat on the edge of the bed with Huo Miao, gently patting him through the blanket, and continued, “Sometimes you might not be immediately understood and accepted. But you have to believe that it’s not our fault. Sometimes it’s just bad luck.”

“Sometimes luck can be a little bad,” Ren Shuangmei told him. “Being misunderstood, being hurt… this can also happen, but it doesn’t necessarily mean we did something wrong.”

Luo Chi, wrapped in the blanket, leaned against his mother, listening intently with his eyes open. He knew what to do. “Then just keep trying.”

“Yes.” Ren Shuangmei smiled and gently stroked the little one’s hair. “Then just keep trying—isn’t Huo Miao going to learn to draw? Just draw a picture and wait on the street. Whoever looks, just stop them and swindle them into buying it.”

Luo Chi wanted to make friends, but he hadn’t thought of resorting to robbery yet. He was a little stunned. “Will that work?”

“It will, it will.” Ren Shuangmei patted her chest and guaranteed him, “Mom promises, so it will definitely work.”

“Mom promises, Huo Miao will eventually make very good friends.” She told Huo Miao softly, “Once you have one friend, you’ll have a lot more.”

Luo Chi listened to these words seriously, memorizing every sentence. He couldn’t help but think of the dream he had.

Towards the end of the dream, his own consciousness was actually very weak. The people and events he experienced were like water-soaked film, blurry and chaotic, with almost only hazy sounds and shadows remaining.

But as he lay in bed listening to his mother’s stories, being gently patted and slowly drifting into a comfortable sleep, he seemed to touch upon the traces of that dream again.

He dreamed that he really did draw a picture and wait on the street. When he saw someone looking, he confidently went up to promote his drawing.

Mom’s promise really worked.

The shadow that stopped him bent down, tilted an umbrella over him, and gently placed a hand on top of his head.

---

At the bonfire party, all worries about friends completely disappeared.

As soon as Luo Chi was led to the beach by his mother, before he could fully come to his senses, he was already playing with everyone.

How could anyone not like little Huo Miao? He was well-behaved and smart, and could do anything. He could teach others how to read the wind direction when lighting a fire, how to burn a fire without smoke, how to grill meat without burning it or leaving it raw… The grilled skewers were so fragrant that people from nearby beaches all came over.

When the little ones who were running around were handed over to him, and the adults came back after chatting, they were all sitting in a neat circle, clapping and singing along with their guitar-playing big brother, each one incredibly well-behaved.

When everyone had eaten their fill and put down everything to play, it became even more lively.

No child disliked clinging to Luo Chi. Luo Chi knew how to dig out little crabs from the sand, how to lure small fish with a light, knew which kind of stone skipped the farthest, and could accurately name every sea urchin, moon snail, conch, scallop, and mussel that everyone picked up.

The little ones were let loose by the adults to run wild, and soon they were fighting over their big brother. A little girl with a plastic shovel and bucket wanted her big brother to help her build a sandcastle. The boys wanted to pull Luo Chi into a water fight. The restless ones pulled Luo Chi along to play hide-and-seek.

After Luo Chi had played enough with the little ones and got his guitar back, he had only played a short melody when many people couldn’t help but look over, drawn by the sound.

The weather that night was actually still not very good. It had been raining all day, and it was still gloomy at night. Even the stars and the moon were not visible. The seaside was not too oppressive, but the wind, pressed down by the clouds, was still somewhat unavoidably heavy.

—But if you were sitting here, by the bonfire, seeing the fire next to you burning hot and bright, and hearing the guitar melody flowing between the tides, you wouldn’t think so.

The evening wind became lively in those nameless tunes.

Music often has a magical power, especially on a night like this. Even though the weather was quite gloomy, the melody played by that guitar was exceptionally hot and fiery, as if dancing with the bonfire between the waves, and the golden sparks carried by the wind flew to everyone’s side.

It was a very real, tangible softness and passion—these two things were not at all contradictory. A gentle person can also have the most sincere enthusiasm, and even when trapped in a dark nightmare, can still burst into brilliant sparks.

Luo Chi’s guitar had a pickup, so the sound could travel very far. Those bright melodies were carried by the night wind all the way to the sea.

More and more people gathered around, clapping along to the beat of the music, and cheering at every climax. When Luo Chi stopped, everyone around him reached out to pat his head, his shoulder, and everyone smiled at him.

Luo Chi’s eyes couldn’t stop shining. His forehead was covered in a thin layer of sweat, and his face was flushed.

His chest rose and fell slightly. He held his guitar tightly, his heart pounding, and he looked seriously at everything before him.

Just like in his dream, everything was real.

So he still had to do the boldest thing, as he had promised his dream self.

Luo Chi jumped off the sand dune. In the crowd, people from the band continued to play, and it was still very lively everywhere. He held his guitar and circled around the rocks near the pier.

Although he lived by the sea, Luo Chi hadn’t been on a boat yet, nor had he been to the pier.

He walked along the outline of the ship, saw the lights of the cruise ship reflected in the water from afar, and was about to continue walking when he suddenly saw a young man standing by the rocks.

The wind lifted a corner of the clouds, so even by the moonlight, one could see the person’s face clearly.

The other person was a few years older than Luo Chi, noticeably taller, with dark pupils, and his features already had a sharp, chiseled look.

He stood by the rocks under the moon, looking at Luo Chi seriously.

Luo Chi was also looking at him seriously.

It was a very strange feeling—he clearly had no more specific impression of the person in front of him, but it felt as if he had known him for a long time.

“Hello, my name is Ming Weiting.”

The person standing in front of him spoke. “The piece you just played was the best guitar solo I’ve ever heard.”

Luo Chi blinked. His ears burned, and he said in a small voice, “Thank you.”

Ming Weiting shook his head.

He hadn’t completely believed the message in the “Sailing Log” before, but standing here and listening until now, he was truly grateful to that self. …

Grateful to the self who had left the message. He had practiced what he wanted to say in advance, and it had indeed come in handy.

“My name is Ming Weiting. I came ashore to be your fan, to be your follower.”

Ming Weiting said to Luo Chi, “I came to find you, to be your friend.”