A shadow flickered, and Ah Dai landed beside Xiao Huan. Carefully cradling the girl's portrait in both hands, he handed it to Xiao Huan and said with vacant eyes, "Look, isn't she alive again? She must be. She will never, never die."
Xiao Huan froze and looked at the ash-gray portrait in Ah Dai's hand. That lifelike face—it was truly hers! Only now did Xiao Huan realize what Ah Dai had been doing. She let out a mournful cry, "Miss—" and the tears, uncontrollable, streamed down once more. The two of them stood silently there, their four eyes fixed unwaveringly on the lifelike portrait. The sorrowful atmosphere thickened around them, ascending higher and higher, as if the forest itself had sensed their grief. The trees shuddered faintly in the caress of the breeze.
After a long while, Ah Dai let out a deep sigh, carefully tucked the girl's portrait back into his embrace, and said flatly, "Stop crying, Xiao Huan. Let's go."
