Early morning sunlight filtered through the inn's windows as Chu Xiyue bustled about, preparing breakfast.
"Thank you, little sweetheart," Ye Mingzhi said, inhaling the scent with a smile. "Smells amazing."
He reached out, teasingly trying to pull her into a hug.
"M-Master, don't do that!" she stammered, cheeks burning. "I'm shy…"
He chuckled softly. "Oh? Don't tell me you don't like it?"
She didn't answer—just turned away quickly and darted out, flustered.
After their tender moment, Ye Mingzhi knocked on her door. "Time to go, Xiyue. Let's investigate."
They returned to the narrow alley where the assassin had attacked her. As Ye Mingzhi stepped into the street, his expression grew grave.
"The aura... still lingers," he murmured. "Daoist energy. And recent."
He scanned the area, his gaze sharp. Nestled in a small tree hollow, he spotted several rolled scrolls. Retrieving them, he unrolled one—and his eyes darkened.
A bounty notice. His name on it. The seal of the Daoists who once stood beside him, now turned enemies.
Old allies, he thought bitterly. They know the truth... but I still can't tell her. Not yet.
Meanwhile, Chu Xiyue wandered further down the alley. At the end of a quiet side street, something caught her eye—a delicate, silver bracelet half-buried in the dirt. Curious, she bent down and touched it.
The world around her froze.
A violent surge of energy shot through her chest. Her knees buckled.
Images flooded her mind: crimson skies. A temple engulfed in flame. Two hands letting go. A voice screaming through the chaos—
"You promised you'd come back!"
Her eyes snapped open—now glowing with an eerie violet light. Veins shimmered beneath her skin, dark and wild. A storm of power burst from her like a tidal wave.
Ye Mingzhi turned sharply. He felt the shift—her energy twisting, awakening.
"Xiyue!" he called, rushing toward her.
Her hair danced in the windless air. Her stance trembled between memory and madness. When she looked at him, her gaze wasn't hers—it belonged to someone from another lifetime.
"You… left me behind…" she whispered, her voice cracked and distant.
"No," Ye Mingzhi said, heart twisting. "I never left you. Not then. Not now."
He formed a sealing sigil with one hand and stepped closer, his other palm gently pressing against her forehead.
"Come back to me, little sweetheart."
Her body shuddered once, then collapsed into his arms—unconscious, but safe.