Ren Lin and Feiyun Xing were sparring when a sudden rustle came from the bushes.

  Their heads snapped towards the sound—a red figure stumbled out. An exhausted expression and the wounds covering him stood out more than the color of his clothes.

  “I’m back…” he said with the same ghostly voice, his eyes devoid of any hint of life.

  “Wei Gu! What happened to you?” Feiyun Xing stormed to him.

  “Nothing much,” he paused. “Feiyun Xing?”

  “Hm? What is it?”

  “Stay a gentleman… will you? Don’t ever end up like your father.”

  “I wouldn’t dare to dream of it! Why do you tell me this?”

  He lifted his hand to dismiss his question then turned to the mortal. “Ren Lin, no matter if you did this on purpose or not, thank you for showing me where my love rests.”

  “It’s nothing to thank me for. It was just an accident.”

  He chuckled—low and hollow. “Can I ask for one thing, Xing?”

  His eyes fluttered in surprise. “Of course.”

  “Your sword, may I borrow for a bit?”

  Without another word he handed it to him, a hint of understanding flickered in his eyes.

  Then Wei Gu stepped past them heading into the cave. A trail of red drops marked his path until it vanished into the stony opening.

  Ren Lin and Feiyun Xing exchanged a single glance—a bad premonition lingered in the air.

  Inside, the air felt colder than before, the damp decay more intense. The skeleton waited exactly as he had left it, except for the clothes. They weren’t tattered anymore. Their white shone as brightly as the moon at night. Golden embroidery reflected even the tiniest details around. It was as though they had just bought it.

  Wei Gu knelt once more beside his wife.

  He did not cry this time. The tears had run dry on the mountain. Instead he reached out with careful, blood-crusted fingers and lifted the skeletal hand. He pressed it to his cheek, closing his eyes as though listening for a heartbeat that had been silent twenty years.

  “Seems like they mended your clothes,” he whispered. “Even now you carry such a breathtaking elegance with you…” A long, shuddering breath. “You will get mad for what I am about to do… I hope you will be able to understand.”

  Staring at the blade in his palm, the steel answered with the view of his hollow eyes. For a moment he saw not his reflection, but the young man who had once knelt before his woman in a sunlit garden, promising forever.

  He turned the sword slowly.

  Leaning forward his forehead rested against hers—bone against bone, warmth against cold. The skeletal fingers he still held felt almost alive in that instant, as though they curled ever so slightly in forgiveness.

  “We were apart for far too long, my love...”

  With that he drove the sword upward beneath his ribs.

  The blade entered cleanly. No gasp, no cry. Only a soft, wet exhale as steel pierced his heart. His body fell beside her, as if it always belonged there.

  Using the last part of his strength he pulled the sword out and wiped the blade on his sleeve.

  The cave stilled.

  And so did Feiyun Xing. He froze the moment he no longer felt a hunch of essence.

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  His hands trembled as he balled them to fists. He lost another good person…

  “Hey… don’t be so sad about it. Wei Gu finally found what he always searched for. Now they will be together forever, in a better place.” Ren Lin patted his shoulder.

  “If—if it wasn’t for my father… none of this would have happened.”

  “That’s true. This is why we will give him what he deserves.”

  “What do you mean..?”

  A fire ignited in her eyes. Not revenge, but ambition. “We will pay him back for his deeds.”

  She stepped into the cave, the couple laid there—their hands remained clasped for eternity, white and red robes pooling together around them.

  Her fingers stretched out to slip off the rings from them, then she picked up the sword.

  Feiyun Xing looked up the moment she emerged.

  She held the sword out to him.

  He took it slowly, his eyes searching her face before dropping to her other hand.

  “The rings…” his brows furrowed. “Why did you take them?”

  Ren Lin glanced at the rocky entrance before answering, her expression calm.

  “They’re the last things left that belonged to them.”

  Feiyun Xing frowned. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

  “He would have wanted us to take them.”

  The words came smoothly, without hesitation.

  “He held them before he died,” she continued softly. “Like he was offering them… as a gift.”

  Feiyun Xing studied her carefully, suspicion flickering across his face.

  “A gift…?”

  “Xing, we are the last people that met him. Only we know his—their story. Wouldn’t you want to carry on their hearts?”

  Her fingers were closed around the rings before she extended them toward him. “Store them in the Serpent Cache Core. It’s the last favor we can do for them.”

  For a moment it seemed as though he might question her again.

  But then his shoulders sagged slightly.

  “…Alright.”

  He accepted the rings and slipped them carefully into the Core.

  Silence lingered between them.

  Looking toward the cave entrance, Feiyun Xing breathed in the wind drifting from within—damp stone, wet earth… this petrichor smell that haunted returned again.

  “…The least we can do,” he sighed quietly, “is give them a proper grave.”

  Pulling out his sword, he found a weak spot on the cave’s entrance and shot lightning at it.

  Krrrzzmm!

  With a loud crackle the stones collapsed—sealing off the opening.

  Dust drifted slowly through the air before settling into silence.

  Feiyun Xing lowered his sword. The lightning around the blade faded, leaving only the quiet whisper of wind through the trees.

  “…That should hold.”

  Ren Lin stood before the sealed entrance for a long moment. Her gaze rested on the stone as though she could still see through it—the two figures lying together within, hands clasped.

  She spoke softly, “let’s mark their names… so that heaven and earth would remember them.”

  Crouching, she picked up a shard of broken stone, testing its edge with her thumb.

  Feiyun Xing watched her silently.

  Then she walked to the largest slab among the collapsed rocks and knelt before it.

  The stone was rough, but its surface was flat enough.

  Scrrrk.

  The sound of carving echoed softly as she began to engrave the characters.

  Wei Gu.

  Then beneath it, after a brief pause:

  Lin Zhixiao.

  “How do you know her name?” the prince asked, lifting an eyebrow as he watched her etching into the stone.

  “He told me before.”

  “Oh?” Feiyun Xing sulked slightly. “He never really mentioned her name—at least not to me.”

  He never did to Ren Lin either.

  She had simply written the name of a girl from a TV drama.

  “Don’t be upset.” She lifted the plate and secured it on top of the sealed entrance. “It was simply a story he told while you were busy. He would have told you too.”

  “We’ve lingered long enough,” Ren Lin continued. “We should head to the gate now.”

  Feiyun Xing wiped a smudge of stone dust from his cheek. “Do you know which way? The forest... it all looks the same.”

  Closing her eyes for a second, she visualized the map of Kuang Dao as the anatomy of her plot points. She already did it before; through the Scarlet Mother’s body, she oriented herself to find Wei Gu’s dead wife. Now doing the same, judging by where she found the dead body, she could find the direction.

  Her eyes slowly opened as she moved into the forest.

  “This way.”

  Feiyun Xing followed closely behind, though his gaze drifted around the trees every so often as if hoping the path would suddenly make sense to him.

  The more they walked, the more he pondered.

  “You’re surprisingly certain,” Feiyun Xing finally said.

  “I am.”

  “…You’re not just guessing, are you?”

  Ren Lin glanced back at him. “Would I only trust guesses?”

  “…Fair point.”

  They continued for nearly half an hour before the forest finally began to thin.

  The ground sloped upward, and between the trees a rugged gray shape appeared.

  An archway.

  Two weathered stone pillars rose from the earth, connected by a curved slab above. Scratch marks were all over it, as if a beast tried to enter it using brute force.

  At its center floated nothing but empty air.

  “It’s becoming quite repetitive, isn’t it?” Ren Lin said.

  The prince heaved a sigh. “I suppose...”

  He thought of his sword instructor’s warning. About these islands making him regret his decision. And he couldn’t deny it now. Would he change something if he went back in time?

  No—it was Wei Gu’s decision to rest now. No matter how much Feiyun Xing wished it was different, he shouldn’t change it. It would be selfish.

  “I will remember you.” He muttered to himself as he glanced back to the direction they came from. “Farewell.”

  And so—his hand once again reached out towards the archway.