I am actually the son of Gardevoir!

The northern section of the forest trail is in the shrubby area near the east bank of the stream.

Yu Feng was five years old, thin and small, with fair skin, light green hair, lavender eyes, and slender, slightly upturned ears. He looked like a human child, but with a softer frame, a quiet presence that seemed to emerge from the leaves. He stood beneath an old oak tree, holding his sister Yu Ya's hand with his left hand. His right hand rested lightly on the trunk, his fingertips rubbing against the rough bark, as if to confirm that the tree was still standing as it had been yesterday.

Yu Ya was half a head shorter than him, wearing a short skirt woven from vines, with coils of dried straw tied around her ankles. She spoke softly, her voice always ending with a "lalu" sound, like the echo of wind blowing through reeds.

They lived in a small cabin at the edge of the forest, unattended by adults, and they had no recollection of having parents. They knew only that when they woke up each day, the spring would still flow, the wild fruit would still ripen, and the sun would still shine through the treetops onto the windowsill. Their food consisted of berries, young leaves, and the sweetness of boiled dew. Their life was as simple as a leaf falling on water, not even bothering to create a ripple.

Today they decided to go north to a place they had never been to before. They heard that there were small luminous animals there that twinkled in the night like stars falling into a haystack.

Yu Feng was actually a little scared. Not of monsters or danger, but of wandering too far and not being able to return before dark. Yu Ya walked slowly, and when she got tired, she'd squat down to touch rocks or smell flower stamens, stalling for minutes. If she got lost, she'd cry. He knew she wouldn't cry out loud, but would just curl up, burying her face in her knees, repeating "(Lalu... go home)" over and over.

So he had to remember the way. Every fifty steps, he would break off a low-hanging branch, snap it in two, and stick it diagonally into the ground. That way, when he came back, he only had to follow the direction of the broken end.

They had been walking along the stream for nearly an hour when they suddenly spotted a few small claw marks on the rocks. Five distinct toe prints, their edges a scorched yellow, like the marks of a fire that had burned and then immediately extinguished. Yu Feng squatted down and placed his finger against them. He felt no heat, but a faint scent of ozone wafted from between his nails, like the pungent aroma that lingered in the air after a thunderstorm.

"(Lalu... there is light ahead)." Yu Ya stood half a step behind him, pointing to a tree hole ahead.

The tree hole was not high and was dark, so nothing could be seen inside. But when Yu Feng stared at it for a long time, he seemed to see a flash of yellow light in the corner of his eye, as brief as the flapping of a firefly's wings.

He said nothing, simply pressing his palm to his chest and closing his eyes. A slight tingling sensation lingered there, like ants crawling across his skin. He tried to clear his mind, to focus his attention, like pressing his ear to the mouth of a well, listening to the sound of water deep within. Slowly, a faint electric current began to rise from the ground, intermittent, like someone striking an iron bell in the distance, vibrating the earth with each beat.

He opened his eyes and carried Yu Ya on his back. She was light, like a ball of warm cotton. He walked in the direction of the strongest current, continuing to break branches to mark the path.

The sky began to turn gray. The light in the forest was no longer golden, but green, and the gaps between the leaves became blurred. Yu Ya leaned on his back and whispered, "(Lalu...can we still go back?)"

"Yes," he said, "I remember the way."

After walking for about twenty minutes, the woods ahead suddenly opened up, revealing a circular clearing. A dozen or so small animals formed a circle, their backs facing them, their tails linked together, forming a closed ring. Their bodies gradually lit up, starting with the tips of their tails, then spreading down their backs, emitting a soft yellow glow, like a wick being lit. The light rose and fell in a rhythmic pattern, like some kind of breathing.

Yu Feng held his breath, slowly put Yu Ya down, and pulled her back behind the bushes. As he squatted down, he stepped on a dead branch and broke it with a crisp sound.

The closest little creature suddenly turned its head, ears perked, eyes alert. Yu Feng immediately lowered his head, hiding his face in his arms, and covered Yu Ya's mouth with his hand. She didn't struggle or make a sound, just staring at him with wide eyes.

The little creature looked around for a few seconds, then turned back. The yellow light came back on, passing in circles, as if lighting up the night in a relay.

They watched quietly from the shadows. There was no shouting, no fighting, and no running. The little creatures simply stood there, glowing, as if they were conversing, or perhaps celebrating something.

Yu Feng suddenly felt a warmth in his chest. It wasn't pain, nor was it an itch, but rather a sudden familiarity, like a voice he'd heard in a dream suddenly echoing in reality. Several images flashed through his mind: a sky filled with dark clouds, a flash of lightning striking a large tree, sparks bursting from its branches; a group of small figures leaping and chirping in the treetops; and laughter, as clear and crisp as glass beads rolling on stone slabs.

He blinked and the image disappeared.

But he knew that was not his memory.

That was their emotion. He felt it.

On the way back, Yu Ya remained silent. When she reached the third branch mark, she finally spoke: "(Lalu... why are they glowing?)"

Yu Feng stopped.

He wanted to say, "I don't know," but the words stuck in his throat. He had clearly seen those images, felt that joy and connection. It wasn't fear, nor was it an attack, but a form of communication he had never seen before.

He squatted down and held her hand.

"They're not fighting, nor are they afraid," he said. "They're talking, using light to speak."

Yu Ya tilted her head to look at him: "(Lalu... Can you hear me too, brother?)"

Yu Feng was stunned.

He didn't answer, only looking down at his open palm. The tingling sensation from before was still there, pulsing slightly, like a tiny electric current running through his skin.

He remembered the warmth in his chest at that moment, and the thunder and laughter in his mind.

He nodded slightly.

The two continued their walk back. The sun had already set, and the shadows in the forest stretched out, like slowly drawn lines of ink. They passed the fifth branch mark, the sixth, the seventh... The familiar terrain gradually emerged. The old oak tree appeared at the end of the field of vision, and the moss on the roof glowed golden green in the sunset.

Yu Feng stopped in front of the cabin and turned to look into the depths of the forest. Yu Ya leaned against his legs, looking up, waiting for him to enter.

He pulled a leaf from his pocket—one he'd picked up near a tree hole that afternoon. Its edges were charred, and fine traces of electricity remained on its veins. He pinched it, and the familiar tingling sensation spread through his fingertips again.

He knew that the group of glowing little guys were not illusions.

They are really there, connecting each other with light.

And he, somehow, heard it.

He looked down at the leaf in his hand and suddenly found that the shape of the burn marks had changed - originally it was scattered burning points, but now it was vaguely connected into a circle, as if someone had drawn a symbol with flames.

He raised his eyes and looked towards the darkest part of the forest.

There, there was a flash of yellow light.

Then it went out.