Hangeng trudged back to his room after another hard day's work.

Work, work, work. That's what everything was right now.

He sleepily walked in, but felt an odd crunch under his feet. He picked it up and peered at it in the dim light, trying to read what the envelope in his hands said.

It was a letter. From his little sister.

Tears fell, one by one.

A heart crumbles in the darkness of the night, full of despair. Another crumbles... To be reborn again.

Just as the magestic bird, the phoenix, must crumble into nothingness, burn into ashes, and be forgotten before it can be reborn in all its fiery splendor, so must a man's heart crumble, succumb into weakness and be filled with love and gentleness and humility before he can rise above the ashes and soar through the sky.

The cage must be destroyed before the bird can soar free.

Burning.

Destroying.

The path of steel to become a sword; the path of a rock to become a gem!

Reforming.

Purifying.

Crafting.

Its value has been tried and tested. Thrown into the fire and buried in the ice...

The strongest of the metals, the sharpest of swords.

Submerged under volcanoes, churned under pressure.

The birth of a rare, and precious stone; the transformation of rock and molten into a diamond.

I am reborn.

~°~

Tears have been shed, the cage has been destroyed, the heart has been crafted, reformed, strengthened. Now, it is its time to shine.

Hangeng walked to his sister's room and found her sprawled on the ground, staring at nothingness.

She wasn't dead, but her heart had crumbled, broken into pieces like a puzzle once more.

She was weary and fearful. The worst was probably yet to come.

Three words were scrawled in black ink on a paper beside her, with a stamp of red ink. A streak of black ink on her face stood out against her milky complexion.

Behind the youthful exterior was a worn interior. A caged heart, a wounded soul.

He kneeled in from of her with tears in his eyes, his heart full of gratitude.

"There's no need to cry anymore," he said, gathering her in his arms in an embrace. He held her at an arm's length and tried to wipe away the ink with his hands. "Mei, there is no need for you to worry."

More tears, this time, from her.

"Don't go away," she pleaded, tightly clutching his hands in fear. "Please don't..."

He hugged her tightly again, not caring whether the ink would rub off on him and stain both of their clothes.

An unspoken promise and a gentle hug.

Happiness.

The three words written in ink:

Wo Zhi Dao. I understand.

Another three, stamped in red ink in the place of a name:

Wo Xi Wang. I hope.

Gently, Hangeng took the brush from her hands, and wrote:

The night is as black as ink

But only in the darkness

Can the stars shine

"Thank you, Mei, for not giving up on me," he told her with a smile, dropping the brush somewhere where out of reach, where it would not stain anything else.

He held her in an embrace, and slowly, on their own, the pieces of her heart came back together.

Hope shone once more!