Do Not Feed After Midnight.

  Salomon looked up at Nadia with devotion.

  Then, with the tenderness that made her heart swell, he brought her hand to his lips and kissed it, then pced it on his forehead, just as her son had done so many years ago.

  Without a thought, her hand came to rest on his head, and he, in turn, closed his eyes as if he was being blessed.

  “Mother, this is simply another reflection of me,” he said. “We exist together and separately.”

  Solomon turned to the Dar Luso and nodded with heartfelt sincerity.“We each love our mother. I feel like today is an auspicious day.”

  Dar Luso nodded and closed his eyes.In his thoughts, he added Solomon Dar to the list of names that were spoken in his prayers.

  Opening his eyes, Dar spoke calmly to those around him:“Everyone, please refer to this person as Solomon Dar... or Sol. He has feelings and dreams like you or I—because he is me. He is not a tool for violence. He is here to help me move the heavens for our people.”

  Solomon nodded.“Brother, this is good. We should work with the divine Lady Serel to determine what is safe and what is not. The idea of us both being here to protect everyone brings me comfort.”

  Dar smiled.“Brother Sol… I couldn’t have said it better. Your eyes are like nterns, revealing the truth before me. Truly—thank you.”

  He took a breath, then added, “You should return for now. This is a lot for everyone to process… and I look forward to feeling how you see all this.”

  Solomon nodded, but then paused, eyes flicking around with mischief.“Brother,” he said in a lower tone, “perhaps… mention that one thought ter.”

  With a sly smile, Solomon dissolved into a swirling fog that filled the house, his form vanishing as the blood returned to Dar in a gentle mist.

  Dar blinked, clearly impressed. “… impressive,” he murmured. “I hadn’t even thought to do something like that.”

  He turned to the others, expression open, voice steady.

  “Everyone… I apologize. I wasn’t trying to do anything harmful.” He took a breath.“But I admit—that's a weak argument. How much death or strife has come from simple innovation? Too much, I wager.”

  He pced a hand over his chest, eyes distant. “As I stand here now, I’ve just received the first feelings from Solomon.”

  His voice softened.

  “He felt trepidation when Alia took hold of him… afraid of rejection. But when she accepted him, his heart swelled with joy.”

  He gnced at Cheri. “When Cheri gred at him, it made him want to try harder. To earn your trust.”

  Then his gaze settled on Nadia.“When Mother held him, he felt… calm. Steady. Safe.”He paused, then smiled faintly.“He says Sister is well. Everything is progressing smoothly. He also noted that I should remain vigint.”Dar nodded once.“He’s right. I shall double my efforts.”

  Finally, he turned to Serel, his voice barely above a whisper.“And as for you, Serel… he felt many things. But I will only speak the one that weighed most heavily on his heart.”

  A breath. A beat.

  “He hopes we can find a way to make it work—and move forward. Together.”

  Alia spoke first. “Okay,” she said, her voice bright and far too casual.

  “Solomon Dar seems sincere. I hope you can allow us more time in the future to listen to his feelings from his own mouth; he is a sensitive soul.” She rubbed her eyes with the heel of her hand. She stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Dar from the side with practiced ease. “You and he have my support!” She paused. “I’ll love that version too. I already do.”

  Dar looked at this person with mixed feelings. He was missing something, but her support and love were genuine, so he could only nod and smile while holding her close.

  Cheri stood a few steps away, arms folded tightly across her chest.

  Her lips were pressed into a line. She didn’t move.

  But then—slowly—she exhaled and uncrossed her arms. “I didn’t trust him,” she admitted quietly. “Still don’t. Not yet.”

  Her gaze lifted, sharp and unflinching. “But I trust you. That hasn’t changed.”

  She walked forward, stopping just in front of him. “If you say he’s you, then fine. But if he ever takes a different path—if he strays—I’ll be the one to find him.”

  Dar thought about her words and nodded. He felt it was him, but he would regret it if something happened that was his fault.

  Dar’s eyes moved to Serel. “My love… what say you?”

  Serel closed her eyes. She pushed her thoughts of research and rationality away—banished the part of her mind already trying to catalog, analyze, and define. This was not a case study. This was Dar.

  A person who felt deeply… And someone she, in turn, felt deeply for.

  She could not treat him as an object of inquiry—not when he stood before her, open and vulnerable.

  She had felt Solomon's emotions as clearly as sunlight on skin. Warm. Honest. Undeniable.

  It hadn’t been like watching a performance or interacting with a spiritual copy.

  It had been as if Dar himself had become more—an expanded melody, a harmony that now wished to hold her with new resonance.

  Not two opposing forces.Not a split.A synergy.

  Her fingers curled slightly at her side as an old memory stirred— A younger version of herself, trapped in a triangle of love that had torn three hearts apart.

  She hadn’t been able to choose. Had tried to walk both roads. In the end, none of them could bear the tension, the uncertainty… the guilt.

  They had fractured beyond repair.

  But this? This was not that. There was no tug-of-war. No competition. No hollow betrayal.

  Only an invitation—quiet and steady—to accept that love could grow in more directions than she had ever believed possible.

  Serel stepped forward and wrapped her arms around both Dar and Alia.“I wish for us to explore making this work,” she said softly. “Solomon is, at his core, still Dar—and that, for me, is enough.”

  Then she turned, bowing her head respectfully toward Nadia and Lana.“This has given me more than I bargained for,” she admitted. “I defer to our Mothers’ wisdom.”

  Dar blinked, mouth slightly open, and turned to his mother expectantly.

  Mistress Lana, ever the mischievous observer, raised a brow and gave the faintest shrug. Everyone knew she was here for the drama. That left the decision at Nadia’s feet.

  Nadia closed her eyes. A long moment passed in silence.

  When she opened them, her voice was calm and resolute.

  “That is my son,” she said. “He would never harm us. I hope I see him again soon—so I can tell him I’m proud of him. He’s done something… unprecedented.”

  There was pride in her tone, firm and unshaken.

  Dar’s brows rose, his mouth parting again with a look of incredulity. But then he paused… thought about it… and slowly nodded.

  Technically, she was right.

  Evening came, and the meal was prepped with everyone contributing something.

  Afterwards, Dar sat with everyone in a heavy silence.

  It was like someone had passed away.

  “You know, he is right here, right?” Dar finally said to his companions, pointing at himself.

  Alia clung to him and pouted.

  Cheri sat a little way, pouting for another reason.

  Serel wrote in her journal, then, as if a thought had struck her, she asked. “What did he mean, Dar? Brother Solomon said to mention the ‘idea’ ter...”

  Everyone perked up their eyes on Dar.

  He pyed with Alia’s hair as she finally stopped pouting—only to pinch him pyfully in return.

  With a sigh, Dar stood and decred,“Bathroom runs, then to the communal room. Move it, people.”

  Their smiles fshed in the low light as they scattered, jockeying to get ready, anticipation thick in the air. Everyone was eager to lie down and see just what this mystery was that Dar had promised.

  When they joined, they could see only sparkling dots all around them.

  They stood together in a dark void, beneath a sky full of stars that shimmered like silk scattered with diamonds. The women gasped.

  It was unlike any night sky they had ever seen.Not their world. Not their rules.Something altogether different.

  Dar stepped forward into the vast stillness. The darkness wasn’t empty; it felt like the heavens were looking down on their wards, wishing they had found their path and joined them.

  He turned to Serel, and his voice echoed softly in the endless space.

  “To my dearest Serel… I’m afraid we’ve run out of time.”

  He took a breath, grounding himself.

  “Before we proceed with these secrets… I need your answer.”

  His eyes were steady. There was no pressure in his tone, only vulnerability.

  “This isn’t meant to force you. But these are my deepest truths. If we weren’t meant to be—sharing them would be a burden on you… and a danger for me.”

  Then, slowly, reverently, Dar knelt before her. He raised his hand toward the sky, and a single star streaked down into his palm, shifting and reshaping until it became a sparkling golden band—glimmering with radiant, inner light.

  He lifted it toward her.

  “Will you take me as your husband?”“Will you take my wives as your sisters?”“Will you walk this road with me—full of ughter and joy, toil and pain… a road we forge ourselves, Serel Thorne?”

  Serel fell into a reverie.

  By the time you reach fifty, life starts to feel like a rerun. You’ve seen most—if not all—of what you will ever see. Surprises are rare. Wonder is even rarer.

  At a hundred, you’ve settled into yourself.The edges have been worn down. You’ve found your rhythm, for better or worse.

  By one hundred and fifty, the mundane becomes unbearable.You’ve heard the same arguments, walked the same paths, endured the same fawning greetings and veiled insults so many times that patience becomes a luxury you can no longer afford.

  Serel, at one hundred eighty-seven, had crossed all those bridges. Checked every box.And quietly begun to fade—from public view, from research, from teaching.

  It was hypocritical, perhaps, but she knew the truth most pretended not to see:

  In a world where people lived for centuries, even millennia, the pursuit of “fresh young blood” was ingrained in cultivator culture. Whether as lovers or Dao partners, it was all the same currency.

  And rarely did these things st.

  The people—these bright, beautiful souls—were collected like treasures. Stored in safe castles. Waved like rare scrolls at banquets. Funted like conquests in a game with no final move.

  It was so predictable, so common, that when Serel had first seen Alia beside Dar… she had assumed, without even thinking, that she was his lover. His first wife. The beginning of a long chain of soon-to-be-forgotten names.

  A tale as old as cultivation itself. But Dar valued none of those things. His entire being was centered around them—his family.

  He avoided trouble not out of fear or pride, but because he wanted to be home with them. That was all that mattered.

  What were moldy maps or glittering relics compared to Alia’s ugh? Or Nadia’s stern fire? Or Cheri’s shameless teasing and leering tomfoolery?

  Or Serel—his Serel—holding his hand as he showed her everything he could ever imagine?

  All he wanted was to see her smile, to taste her lips, to feel her hand in his.

  Serel felt many things at that moment.

  When she had said she’d taken a leave of absence, it had been a white lie. The truth was—it was permanent.

  They hadn't fought it. In fact, when she offered to leave quietly and help from afar, they welcomed it. And when they realized she was staying abroad, they filled her pce without hesitation.

  Her repcement? A young woman, already orbiting an older cultivator.He would groom her carefully, shape her to fit a role on his wall of wives or mistresses.

  Rinse and repeat. It was always the same cycle. But her cycle now was so far removed from what she once knew, she could hardly bear for it to stop.

  Each morning brought a new light—and with it, new feelings. She loved Dar.She adored Alia and Cheri. She respected Nadia and consulted with Lana.

  These women, all younger than her by half or more, held wisdom Serel had never considered. And they loved her—deeply.

  They lifted her up, not because of her power or reputation, but because they needed her. Because she was loved. Cherished.Not as a schor. Not as a cultivator. But as a woman. As Serel.

  Looking at the strange young man before her, the thrum in her chest rose— not from fear, but from anticipation. Of what was… and what could be.

  She spoke, voice soft but unshaking: “Will you still love me when I’m no longer new to you?When some bright-eyed girl walks in after I’ve left the room— will you remember what we have? Will you still choose me?”

  Dar didn’t answer right away. He stepped forward, wrapped her in his arms, and kissed her— deeply, wholly—pouring his answer into that single breathless moment.

  When he pulled back, he knelt once more. “I promise,” he said, voice low but clear.“On my mother’s name—I will love you always.”

  Serel began to cry—softly, freely. Alia and Cheri rushed to her side, wrapping her in their arms.

  Now… they had a path.

  Together. Dar rose and gently slid the ring onto Serel’s finger.

  And at that very moment, the sun rose over Earth, his past life's home pnet, in the 21st century.

  They stood in space—weightless, awe-struck—beside the International Space Station, as a sleek, unfamiliar ship docked in silence.

  Each of the girls stood there, awestruck.

  Then Dar’s voice echoed all around them, even as his form faded from view:

  “I want to talk about reincarnation—and the Path of Samsara. I hope you have a little time to lend me, my elegant angels…who have descended, and blessed me with your love—and your hands in marriage.”

  “What is this? What are we seeing? What is this blue jewel? Is it Dantian?” Serel asked, confused.

  A warm ugh surrounded them, then his Qi flowed through them, warming them, taking away the fear and uncertainty.

  His faith became their faith.

  “There is the belief that all life has a soul, that that soul never dies.” His words floated gently through them as they watched the pnet spin.

  “Many believe that as we progress through life and learn, we evolve from beasts into men, women, or both. By growing, we transcend what we once were to become something more, and eventually...”

  Alia whispered, “What?” Cheri held her close, taking it all in.

  His voice reverberated, “To transcend into a higher life. To become one with the stars. Does that sound familiar to you, my loves, darlings of my eye, future mothers of my beautiful children?”

  All three had heard such stories before.

  Serel and Alia had studied them as part of formal education—philosophy, cultivation theory, even the occasional banned text.Cheri had heard them whispered around fires, passed down as folklore and religious tales.Each had believed—or wanted to believe—in different ways.

  So, they all nodded.

  And they could feel it—his smile inside them. Quiet. Warm. Knowing.

  Dar’s voice echoed gently, “So that leads us to where we are now. I’ve never spoken of this aloud… because I believed the heavens had ears.”

  He paused.

  “The day Alia and I joined—truly joined—the heavens summoned me. I stood before judgment.”

  Alia glowed softly, her eyes shining with memory.

  “My love… you asked to be given what I had once given those children. I would have. I wanted to. But I was asked to stop… and I agreed—so I wouldn’t throw the system into imbance.”

  His voice was solemn with regret...

  “But I’ve since learned something. What I changed… was their fate. Their karma. Their blessings in this life and possibly the next. Those children will find gold on the road and catch stars in their hands—because I did what was not supposed to be done.”

  She looked up in awe and warmth

  “I apologize for not giving that same gift to you. But I did keep my other promise…So please, look upon me kindly.”

  Alia cried, hugging Cheri tightly. Then—suddenly—she froze. Her brows furrowed.

  “Wait a minute…” she murmured.

  She slowly pulled back, eyes narrowing with dawning suspicion. “What promise did he actually keep…?”

  Her expression darkened. Then.. “STUPID HUSBAND! SHOW YOURSELF RIGHT NOW!”

  She stomped her delicate foot in mid-space.

  A swirl of stardust formed—and before her appeared Dar, kneeling, head bowed reverently.

  “Have mercy, maiden,” he said, his voice filled with mock solemnity. I am but a man… and you are a beautiful woman. I only did what comes naturally. I only lied a little so your father might know I was in love with you. I did not think he would leave you in Ironwood directly. May rain never touch his head for such a blessing.” Dar bowed his head in thanks.

  Alia pouted, hopping in pce in frustration—then paused. Her lips curled. Slowly. Wickedly. Cheri’s mischief had infected her.

  She leaned close, whispering into his ear:

  “Of course, of course… my love, my husband. For a small fee, we can pretend this never happened.”

  Dar didn’t hesitate. “Name it, and it’s yours.”

  Alia narrowed her eyes and looked around suspiciously. “We’ll speak ter,” she said, smugly. “But remember—you promised.”

  Dar nodded, utterly defeated—and entirely in love.