The fire went out a little slower each night. Not because the wind was gentler, nor because the beasts had stopped circling.
But because they no longer rushed to extinguish it.
As if… they were in no hurry to close their eyes.
Less than a year remained.
She knew it. And so did he.
The Gate never lied about time. Its rules were absolute. When the spiritual cycle completed, Yun Yun would be expelled, whether she wished it or not.
But they never spoke of it. Not once.
They simply lived.
And in this place, that was more precious than any cultivation technique.
Every day began the same: Zhu Xian gathering whole bones and useful fragments. Yun Yun collecting sap from black roots to refine a sealing resin.
Not out of necessity. But out of routine. Because in the Gate… if you didn’t repeat something every day, you forgot. Even names.
But they didn’t want to forget each other.
One afternoon, Yun Yun woke before him. She watched him sleeping, leaning against the stone, his red sword resting across his shoulder.
His face looked so young… and so old at the same time.
How long have you been here? she wondered.
Zhu Xian didn’t snore. Didn’t move. He slept like someone still alert, even in dreams.
She reached out, without thinking.
Her fingers brushed the fabric of his robe.
He didn’t wake.
For the first time, she touched him without an excuse.
Not to heal, not to train.
Just… to confirm he was real.
That night, he broke the silence.
—Ten cycles left, —he said while sharpening his bone blade.
Yun Yun froze.
She knew what he meant.
A cycle was the span in which the Gate’s mist shifted its flow. They had counted… ninety.
She had ten left.
She didn’t answer.
Zhu Xian spoke again:
—You don’t have to say anything.
—Then I won’t, —she replied, sitting beside him.
He handed her a piece of bitter root. She bit into it.
Night fell without words.
But the fire… burned just a little brighter.
Cycle 91
A new beast appeared. A six-legged creature, eyeless, with skin like stone and tentacles of sharp thorns.
It had no Dou Qi.
But it devoured spiritual energy.
Yun Yun faced it alone.
Zhu Xian watched from a high rock, guarding the perimeter.
She understood why.
He’s testing my limits. For when I’m gone… and he can’t protect me anymore.
But then, something went wrong.
The creature shifted its path. Instead of attacking from the front… it lunged to the side. Toward Zhu Xian.
She screamed his name.
He didn’t move.
He didn’t need to.
The black sword rose, soulless and silent.
The strike was perfect.
The creature collapsed with a muted roar, the ground splitting beneath it as if the Gate itself swallowed its failure.
Zhu Xian said nothing.
He only descended the ridge and gathered the useful parts of its carcass.
Yun Yun approached him.
—Why didn’t you help me?
—You handled it yourself. I… was only there in case you couldn’t.
Her lips tightened.
—And what if you couldn’t?
Zhu Xian looked at her, steady and serious.
—Then you’d be there. Wouldn’t you?
She… couldn’t answer.
And in her silence, he smiled.
Cycle 94
They slept together now.
Not in an embrace, but with their swords between them —a symbolic barrier neither of them ever crossed.
But that night, Yun Yun turned in her sleep. Her hand brushed his chest, unconsciously.
And half-asleep, he closed his hand over hers.
They slept like that.
“Six cycles left.”
“Five.”
“Four…”
And each night, the fire burned slower.
Because their hearts were already burning within.