"Huh?"
"I said, sunsets aren't sad... when two people are watching them together."

Like suddenly waking from a daze, she immediately realized where he had taken that line from. She burst out laughing softly, then turned her eyes toward the priceless sunset spread out before them, right at the edge of the sea.

"Hmm... before that, I did feel sad sometimes. But I didn't know why. Only later did I realize—I've been sad all this time when looking at scenes like this... and I didn't even know it was because of that."

After saying that, she fell silent, letting the wind and the cries of the seagulls continue the conversation. Pink clouds drifted across the orange sky; sea foam gathered at the breaking waves; the sun's silhouette slowly disappeared in the distance.

"You've been sad while watching sunsets before?"  "Yeah... probably..."

He didn't need to ask further; he already knew the answer was yes. It wasn't surprising at all—everyone goes through moments like that sooner or later. Sunsets are simply too beautiful to be the cause of sadness. We don't feel sad *because* of them; we feel sad because of their beauty, because they bring back memories of beautiful things that once were... but now are gone. That's why the sadness comes.

"Why were you sad?" 
"I... don't really like the way some people refuse to accept my appearance..." 
"What are you saying? Who said you're ugly?"  "Not everyone, but... some people said my skin is bad, my face is bad, my hair... is bad too. And it feels like they're telling the truth somehow. When I look in the mirror, I see it too. Sometimes I even get comments mocking my name... I don't want to say it outright; it feels weird."

Silence returned, but this time it was a heavy, sorrowful silence. The waves kept crashing.

"So... other people said things like that to you?"  "Yeah... and there were things from my old school too. All unhappy stuff. I... was really sad."

The sun continued to sink.

"Hạ Đan, at this age, everyone is gradually growing up, but some people still don't think things through properly. They think that just because they have the internet, they can slander or criticize anyone—unless they're truly wrong. But I know you're not wrong. If you were, you yourself would feel ashamed. But shame... people usually hide that deep inside. They think teasing like that is fun. Fun where? If you pay close attention, you'll see their faces don't look much different from those who haven't evolved yet."

At that, she let out a small laugh. She realized what he said made sense, but she still couldn't stop judging her own appearance.

"You say that, but... like you mentioned earlier, our generation is growing and maturing. Sometimes we don't even realize we're hurting others. So I think maybe you just don't fit their taste—that's all. It's not necessarily outright insult, though sometimes it is, like what you said. But growing older doesn't automatically mean growing wiser. It's only when we encounter lessons like this that we truly 'grow up.'"

The clouds kept drifting.

"You're only 16—just one year older than me—and yet right now I feel like I'm talking to a fully grown adult."
"Haha, it's like what I said about you that day at church. The lessons are there; the important thing is whether we learn from them or not. If we don't learn, even when we're old we won't truly become wise... Learn early, understand early. But... it's not always beautiful. Still, it's okay. Life is a chaotic crowd. Sometimes it just looks that way—someone can be 32 and still growing. People say learning is a lifelong process."Instead of feeling proud, he spoke with a touch of melancholy. He said it wasn't beautiful, and perhaps that was true—learning early often means facing many obstacles, sometimes at a very young age. But if the lesson comes, take it. Later on, things might feel lighter. So they're still immature. You have to be understanding toward them. You've realized it; they haven't. Eventually they will too. So just think of it as doing a good deed—don't pay attention to it anymore. Sometimes I feel sorry for them... they don't even know how to treat people properly..."

Then he turned his head to look at Hạ Đan. He saw her lips curve into a smile, as if she had finally found real comfort. She was so absorbed in gazing at the distant sunset that she didn't notice he was watching her.

"Thank you..."

He smiled back and nodded. After that, both pairs of eyes fixed on the sunset again. It had already sunk halfway, far from the light. The water's surface clearly reflected the orange-pink hue, mixed with deep purple. This sweet color was about to disappear.

"You're amazing. If I could think the way you do, I probably wouldn't ever feel sad again. You've probably never been *that* sad before, right?"
"You're wrong about that. I've been disappointed, sad, unable to accept things, hated, even clung desperately to tiny hopes that seemed impossible. But afterward... I had to learn to accept it. Yes, it's not simple. But every time I look back, I realize I'm luckier than so many others. Sometimes I hated my family, but they're the ones who gave me clothes to wear, a place to take shelter from the rain, somewhere warm in the cold or air-conditioning when it's burning hot. Even something as simple as a meal—not everyone has food on the table. You know who I'm talking about, right? At night, pay attention to the sidewalks or empty porches. It's heartbreaking—people with nowhere to go, huddled up in their poverty, yet their bodies are still struggling to survive. Have you ever really looked at construction workers, lottery sellers, garbage collectors, janitors—any job people consider dirty or lowly? I wouldn't blame you if you once looked down on them a little. But later you realize: that sweat is honest sweat, earned through real labor. I know I'm luckier than many, so I don't want to blame anyone anymore..."

Everything seemed to pause. Time slowed. That truth remained etched on the sand—no wave could wash it away. Everything sank into stillness; the sound of the waves seemed to fade into nothingness... until a seagull took flight and circled overhead, and Hạ Đan seemed to awaken. Her eyes looked toward the far horizon:

"I once knew someone. Because of them, I realized many things. They were so kind and gentle—not easy to find people like that. But life is always ironic. After they passed away from cancer, the words they once said... I was in so much pain that I kind of locked them away. Today, hearing you talk... it's like I opened that drawer again..."

The sun was almost gone now. The sea was shifting from that sweet color to deep blue-black. Coconut palms cast long shadows. The moon was beginning to rise, ready to pull the tide down with it...

"God, we talked so much today!"
"Are you saying I talk too much?"
"What? No, I'm just teasing. I mean... this is the first time someone has truly understood the deepest parts of my heart. It's like... I've finally found *the star that knows how to laugh* among thousands of little bells."

She was using details from The Little Prince—the star that laughs, the thousands of bells—to describe their conversation. Simply put, she had found the most beautiful thing among countless beautiful things.

"I'm glad I could do that. Yeah... me too. For the first time..."

They didn't need to look at each other to know the emotion on the other's face. Their eyes didn't meet, but they looked in the same direction. In his heart right now, she looked so beautiful—not just her appearance, but a beauty he didn't have words for. It was the image of her in his mind. To him, she was like the green water, the rising tide that had carried her to him. Like when the sky turned gray and the current washed her ashore. In the silence, or in wild dreams, he had never imagined a scene like this. He was a sinking ship in the middle of the ocean, and she had appeared just in time. He wondered if she felt the same way...

"I talked so much because... I knew you would listen. It's like... when everything feels like the power's gone out, there's someone who turns the light back on for you."

She burst out laughing. She found it... funny, yet so endearing. He laughed too, but he knew he wasn't joking. He once had faith in something, but now he was beginning to believe in something else.

The sky darkened. The sun disappeared. The moon rose, its gentle light illuminating the night sky, where millions of tiny laughing bells appeared. Then the two of them left the sand, walking back the way they had come. When they reached the point where their paths diverged, they looked at each other one last time:

"I'm heading home now." 
"Yeah. Good night." 
"Okay. You too."

Their feet stepped onto two separate roads, but their souls did not part. His hand still clutched the blue-glowing shell tightly. Her eyes lifted to the hanging lanterns on the gate of the house beside them; the light reflected his image in her mind.They had found each other.