The fissure opened without a sound, like a white gash tearing through the eternal mist.
Zhu Xian and Yun Yun sat together on the stone still warm from the dying fire, but the silence between them was different.
It wasn’t tension.
It wasn’t fear.
It was the kind of silence that knows how to count the last heartbeats of something precious.
She knew, even before the glow appeared, that the Gate had called her. Her time had ended.
The judgment… fulfilled.
He walked beside her without speaking.
Their steps echoed with calm, but his gaze burned.
They had shared battles, silences, flesh, and soul. And now, only words remained — words that could no longer be spoken.
Because if they did… they would break something fragile.
Yun Yun felt the faint stir of life within her. A tiny spark, barely a heartbeat.
She didn’t know if it was a boy or a girl. She didn’t know if it would survive. But she knew one thing:
She couldn’t tell him.
Not yet.
Not here.
Not when he still carried his own path to walk.
At the edge of the glowing threshold, Zhu Xian stopped. He pulled a dark leather cord and tied to its end a green jade pendant etched with a blooming lotus.
With steady hands, he fastened it around her wrist.
—It’s a compass, —he said.
She looked at him, confused.
—Does it point anywhere?
—No. But it will remind you… that I will find you, no matter where you are.
Yun Yun lowered her gaze, her trembling fingers brushing the pendant.
Zhu Xian raised his eyes, his hand gently touching her face.
—I will find you, Yun Yun. In every corner of the Dou Qi Continent. Even if you have another name, even if you don’t remember me… I will know it’s you.
Her lips trembled. She wanted to answer. To tell him everything.
But instead, she kissed him and held him tightly, her gaze drinking in his face, trying to memorize every detail.
Her crystalline eyes glistened, tears slipping free as she clung to him harder, struggling against the tide of her breaking composure.
With a soft motion, Zhu Xian tilted her chin up and whispered:
—Yun’er… it’s time.
The vortex flared, brighter and brighter.
Her time was running out.
Zhu Xian didn’t stop her.
He knew he shouldn’t.
Yun Yun pulled away from the embrace and walked toward the light.
And just before crossing it, she turned once —just once— to look at him one last time.
Her eyes said everything her voice could not. Her fingers brushed her belly, so subtly… as if caressing something not yet formed.
Zhu Xian didn’t notice the gesture.
He only watched as she disappeared.
And when the Gate sealed shut, the only thing left was the echo of her presence… and a white flower blooming between the rocks.
A flower that should not have grown there.
A flower that refused to wither.
Zhu Xian knelt before that spot.
Closed his eyes. Clenched his fists.
And in a quiet, steady voice, spoke to the void:
—Wherever you are… I will find you. No matter how many realms or how much time. If you’re still breathing, Yun Yun… I will find you.
The wind stirred softly.
And in the mist… the echo of his promise faded.
But somewhere beyond the Gate, in the world outside, a new life was already beating.
A secret.
One only time would reveal.