That was Lu Yu's voice, traveling through layers of rock and straight into someone's heart.
He knew she might not be able to hear him, but he had to shout anyway—even if there was only the slimmest of chances, he had to let her know he was here.
...
At the seaside, Lian You was with the two little ones, digging for seashells until her hands were raw. The mound piled behind them was almost taller than they were.
She knelt on the damp sand, her fingers abraded, her palms covered in cuts and fine, bloody lines. Every time she dug into the grit, a piercing pain shot through her.
But she didn't stop. Instead, she dug even harder.
Shell fragments cut her skin, and blood mixed with seawater seeped out, yet she seemed completely oblivious to it.
But she didn't stop.
It wasn't just to pile up these meaningless shells, but to numb herself with this almost masochistic act.
