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The city lay beneath a thick shroud of gray clouds, a dreary tapestry punctuated by distant, low rumbles of thunder. Liana Xiu Ying huddled inside her car, a small refuge against the world's gloom, her brown eyes fixated on the drizzles cascading down the windshield. The streets buzzed with life yet felt hollow, shimmering faces rushing by, their emotions swirling like a tempest—anxiety, despair, and the overwhelming weight of exhaustion hung heavy in the air. Today was just one of those dreadful days when the clouds seemed to mirror her own as they wept.

Liana shifted in her seat with a soft sigh, feeling the prick of her cold creeping through the haze of her thoughts. A sneeze threatened to break free, but she held it at bay, the irritation of her runny nose a small sacrifice for the paycheck that awaited her on the other side of this dreary day. Money was money—and she had bills tacked on her fridge like half-forgotten to-do lists. Working while sick was never ideal, but what choice did she have?

Today, she was meeting Bo—a man with a face crumpled by worry and desperation, clutching at the frayed edges of hope as he sought to salvage his decaying marriage. He had heard whispers about Liana, tales of a young woman with the ability to uncover hidden truths, like a genie granting wishes or a saint easing the burdens of the soul. Bo, it seemed, had become enchanted by the stories and all but begged for her help in patching up the fragments of his love's shattered glass.

As she stepped into the café where they'd agreed to meet, a familiar warmth enveloped her momentarily, despite the chill of congestion that gnawed at her throat. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee lingered; she briefly considered indulging in a cup to soothe her. But then she spotted Bo at a dimly lit corner table, his wide, earnest eyes desperate for answers.

"Liana, thank you for coming," he said, his voice a cracked whisper as she sat down across from him. "I don't know what else to do. My wife is... she's seeing a lawyer. I had no idea. I just need your help. She's the love of my life, and I can't lose her."

Despite the fog clouding her head, Liana could feel the weight of his despair. It clung to him like a heavy cloak, suffocating and desperate. She offered a small nod, a gesture of reassurance, as he poured out his heart to her. He spoke of their whirlwind romance, how they had built dreams together, only for them to crumble under the pressures of reality.

As Bo poured every emotion into each word, Liana concentrated, her fingers subconsciously tapping the edge of the table. Though her tissues lay forgotten in her bag, she felt a deep sense of resolve. "I'll help you, Bo. We'll figure this out."

The determination that ignited in her heart masked the exhaustion and cold that threatened to overwhelm her. She knew where she needed to go next—the old apartment where they had once shared laughter and love.

When she finally stood before the weathered door of the apartment, the quietude seemed to wrap around her like an embrace, a stark contrast to the tempest-contained chaos of her thoughts. The corridor smelled of stale air, memories pressed into the wallpaper like whispers of a bygone era. She hesitated for a moment, feeling the dull ache of melancholy that inhabited the very walls.

Once inside, Liana closed her eyes, stepping carefully into her 'zone'—that cherished space where she could delve into the vibrations of the past, the echoes of raw emotions suspended in time. The silence was profound, a haunting lullaby that only she could hear. As her fingers grazed the surfaces of grimy furniture, she breathed deeply, exhaling the cold that had seeped into her bones.

She let herself sink into the environment, the space feeling heavy with nostalgia and sorrow. Greeted by the gentle caress of soft gray waves flowing through the atmosphere, Liana felt the chill of the apartment melt away, replaced by a warmth that nudged her forward.

She found a worn couch, its fabric bearing the impressions of countless shared moments, and edged her way onto it, pulling a small, light blue notebook from the table beside her. The notebook beckoned her like a secret waiting to be unveiled; its energy felt familiar yet foreign, as though it brimmed with memories yearning to be freed. With trembling hands, she leafed through its pages, until a photograph fluttered into her lap. Squinting, she scrutinized the image—Bo and his wife standing close, surrounded by vibrant colors, their smiles lighting up the frame.

As she inhaled deeply, her eyes began to glow with a soft blue luminescence, a sign of her impending journey through time. She whispered the incantation of focus, urging herself to breathe in the remnants of their happiness until the murkiness of the present fell away. In a blink, she was no longer in the dimly lit apartment but embedded deep within the living memory.

Colors exploded around her as the world transformed; once muted shades now flickered in a tapestry of reds, whites, and greens. Liana felt as though she had been transported into a canvas painted by pure joy, a space brimming with warmth. She could almost feel the palpable excitement resonating in the air. As she glided through the lively scene, she caught glimpses of Bo and his wife, beaming and close, gazing into each other's eyes with a brightness that made her heart flutter.

Liana smiled, charmed by their undeniable connection, but as she watched, the mood shifted. The golden light around Bo's wife flickered briefly, her essence swaying like a candle in the wind. Confusion danced in Liana's mind; was there someone else in this frame? Her heartbeat quickened as she edged closer, sensing a ripple in the vibrancy of their connection.

Suddenly, the woman turned away, her demeanor shifting from genuine warmth to an unsettling confusion as she moved toward the kitchen. Liana felt a spark of tension radiating from her—an emotion that felt intrusive and raw, a whisper of longing laced with unease. She had to leave this scene, this world where she had temporarily shared a heartbeat with a couple profoundly in love yet on the brink of fracture.

Retreating, she focused on clearing her mind of the vibrant chaos. Just before stepping away completely, she cast out a dark gray wave toward the woman—a silent declaration that she would not be dissuaded by anyone else's interference. This was her case to solve, her mission to undertake.

"Who are you?" she whispered into the ether, a challenge lingering in the air as the image shimmered around her, the echoes of love and tension melded into one.

With that thought trailing behind her, Liana emerged from the depths of memory, clutching the notebook as if it held the answers she desperately sought. The fog of the present settled around her once more, now laden with the knowledge that there might indeed be others like her, lurking in the shadows of the past.

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