The courtyard was quiet and empty, with a censer of incense sticks scattered like crumbs.
He stood before the carved window pane, his head slightly tilted as the breeze brushed against his cheeks. Half of his face was disfigured, with burns extending from his chin to his left cheek, now scabbed over. He heard soft footsteps behind him, reached out to the window, and turned around unsteadily: "You're here."
His eyes could no longer see.
The breeze blew gently, causing the wind chimes hanging on the window pane to jingle once more.
"I once thought that losing my sight would be unbearable," he said slowly, his voice noble and composed. "But now I understand it differently. I can still touch with my hands, listen with my ears, and see with my heart. The lotus in the courtyard should be in bloom. I catch the faint scent of lotus on the wind, hear the rustling of leaves, and feel the water droplets sliding down."
He raised his hand slowly, his voice soft: "Let me touch your face. I want to know what you look like." His slender fingers moved carefully, and a faint smile curved on his lips: "If one day I regain my sight, I'll be able to recognize you instantly. And then..."
"Then, I will search for someone very important to me."