"Come to think of it, I never asked your name. I'm Mu — what's yours?"
He would never forget the scene from their first meeting. The serene, gentle woman still had a trace of crimson blood at the corner of her lips, yet she stood in the void and gazed at him with a smile.
What was his name?
He didn't know what his name was. He didn't even know that names existed in this world.
Before he met her, his world had been nothing but endless darkness and silence.
It was because he'd encountered her that his world gained sound, gained anticipation — until today, when he finally beheld light…
"I don't know what my name is," he answered in a halting whisper, sensing the woman before him. For reasons he couldn't fathom, a feeling of unworthiness stirred in his heart, as though simply being looked at by her was a form of blasphemy.
"No name, huh…" Mu circled him once, then suddenly clapped her hands and laughed. "I've got it! Looking at how pitch-black you are, I'll call you Mo."
"Mo…" he murmured softly, gradually brightening. "I'm Mo!"
He had a name now — and it was one Mu had given him. He silently resolved that he would never discard this name for as long as he lived. One day, he would make everyone in the world know his name!
But he quickly realized that his appearance differed quite a bit from Mu's.
Mu had hands and feet, a head and a body, and she wore beautiful clothes — she looked truly lovely. He wanted that too…
As the thought formed, his formless, rounded mass of darkness began to twist and shift, gradually reshaping itself into Mu's likeness.
Mu looked at him in surprise. "You can even perform a shape-shifting art… But you can't do it this way. You can't become the same as me."
Mo asked in confusion, "Why?"
Mu explained with patient encouragement, "Because every person in this world is one of a kind."
Mo didn't quite understand, but since Mu had said so, it had to be right.
What a pity — he couldn't have the same appearance as her. That must be the most beautiful form in all the world, he thought to himself.
"But what should I look like, then?" Mo asked.
"Your original form is perfectly fine." She paused, then added, "Though, if you insist on shape-shifting, do me a favor."
"What?"
"Look like this." Mu held out both hands and, grinning mischievously, lunged toward him, kneading and molding him this way and that.
Mo didn't resist, letting her do as she pleased.
After a good while, Mu finally stepped back, studied Mo with a serious gaze, and nodded in satisfaction. "There — this will do."
Mo held out his hands before him, staring at his own small palms in bewilderment.
Seeming to read his confusion, Mu explained unprompted, "This is my little brother's appearance. But he died when he was very young. From now on, you'll use his form."
"Oh…" Mo obediently agreed.
Mu then looked up at the Gate of Xuan Pin with great interest and darted toward it. "This gate is quite the treasure — it swallowed a section of my River of Time and Space. I need to take it with me." She turned to Mo. "This is your family's gate. Do you still want it?"
Mo waved his hands frantically. "I don't want it anymore — you can have it." Who would want something like that…
Mu nodded. "Then I won't be polite."
She summoned the River of Time and Space once more, wrapping it around the bizarre gate. Perhaps because a section of the river was still lodged inside, this time she collected it with ease.
"Let's go." Mu beckoned to Mo and led him flying off into the distance.
Midway through their journey, Mo voiced the question that had been on his mind. "Mu, what is death?"
"Death… Well, if someone dies, you can never see them again. That person can only live on in other people's memories."
"What is a little brother?"
"Hmm… A relative born of the same parents."
"Then am I your little brother?"
"That's right — from now on, you're my little brother!"
"And you're my little brother too!"
"No, I'm the older sister — the sixth sister!"
"What is an older sister?"
"Uh, an older sister is also a relative born of the same parents."
"Isn't that just a little brother?"
"Hey, let me tell you — little brothers should talk less. If they talk too much, their lips will stick together and they'll never be able to open their mouths again!"
Mo panicked and clapped both hands over his mouth.
…
"Mu, where did this little guy come from?"
"He's the one I told you about before — the one sealed behind that strange gate."
"You rescued him?"
A crowd gathered around Mu and Mo, pairs of eyes full of scrutiny and curiosity. Mo clutched tightly at the hem of Mu's clothing, hiding behind her.
He had never known that there were so many people in this world — and that every single one of them looked different. No wonder Mu had said that every person was one of a kind.