The Gate of Life and Death allowed no gifts. Nothing here was given by will. Everything was taken, torn, stolen from fate itself.
But that night… he chose to give.
Zhu Xian had been preparing for days. Not with words, not with ritual. Only with intent.
That morning, while Yun Yun slept deeply —a rare luxury in that hell— he pulled from his inner pouch an object wrapped in spiritual silk, woven from the fibers of that very plane.
Calmly, he unwrapped it.
And there it was.
The white, green, and blue sword. Curved blade, lotus-shaped hilt, a faint glow that only revealed itself under pure spiritual energy.
One of the twin divine swords he had brought with him from his reincarnation.
No one had ever held it but him.
Until now.
When Yun Yun woke, the mist was still quiet. The skyless world unchanged.
Zhu Xian was already on his feet, sharpening his other blade —the dark one. Red and gold. Like fire at rest.
She watched him from a distance.
Then he spoke, without turning.
—Do you believe in symbolism?
She arched an eyebrow.
—Depends. Sometimes the symbol weighs more than the truth.
—And sometimes, it weighs exactly what it should.
He stood. Walked toward her.
Held out the wrapped sword.
She frowned.
—What is this?
—Open it.
Yun Yun did, cautiously.
When the metal came into view, her soul trembled. Not from the power, but from the resonance.
The blade seemed to hum in silence —a note that matched something within her chest. As if the sword… recognized her.
—It’s yours, —he said simply.
She stepped back half a step.
—I can’t accept this.
—You already did, —he replied, his voice even.
She met his eyes.
—Do you know what this means? To hand over a weapon that’s part of your essence… is to give a piece of your soul.
—I know.
Silence.
The sword seemed to breathe between them. Alive.
Yun Yun didn’t take it fully.
She only rested her fingers lightly along the blade.
—Why?
Zhu Xian lowered his gaze, then lifted it again.
His eyes were steady.
—Because you are not someone who needs to be protected. You are someone who protects. And this sword… needs to be wielded by someone like that.
—And if I lose it?
—Then I’ll come for it. Just like I came for you.
His words weren’t romantic.
They were true.
And that truth cut deeper than any confession.
Yun Yun wrapped her hand around the hilt.
Felt it hum beneath her fingers.
A tear threatened to fall… but didn’t.
She drew in a deep breath.
—Then I’ll keep this sword. Not as a symbol of belonging.
—No?
—I’ll keep it… as a promise. That if the day comes when you can no longer hold yours… I’ll fight for both of us.
Zhu Xian smiled. The first full smile since they had entered the Gate.
And the white-green blade glimmered, faintly… as if accepting its fate.
That night, they didn’t sleep back-to-back.
They didn’t embrace. But she sat beside him.
Rested her head on his shoulder.
He didn’t speak. Just extended his hand, open, not touching her.
And Yun Yun, for the first time, took it. No fear. No formality.
And the sword, still wrapped in silk, rested between them.
It wasn’t just a weapon.
It was a bond.
Between two souls.
Who never spoke the words aloud… but from that night on, no longer thought of themselves as two.