The world trembled, and light bent and twisted around Zhou Tian and Lin Moun. Spatial waves surged like invisible tides breaking against hidden shores. For a single moment, Zhou Tian's consciousness blurred, his gaze lost in the fractured mirage of the ruins. Then, abruptly, clarity returned—he felt the solid earth beneath his feet once more.
The air was different—thin, cold, yet familiar.
Zhou Tian staggered forward, supporting Lin Moun, who leaned heavily against his shoulder. His eyes swept across the shattered stones, fragments of forgotten walls, and the scattered remnants of what once had been a temple. A pang struck his chest.
"This place…" he whispered, narrowing his eyes.
Cracked stone doors, half-buried columns etched with ancient inscriptions—the very location where he had first stumbled into the cursed ruins, where his journey with Lin Moun had begun.
Lin Moun slowly lifted her head. Her long hair, once radiant with spiritual light, now hung lifelessly around her face. Since her cultivation had been sealed, her aura was dim, fragile, almost mortal. She observed the surroundings silently, yet a flicker of recognition sparked in her eyes.
"This… is the mortal world," she whispered, her voice trembling—not from fear or anger, but from subtle acknowledgment.
Zhou Tian's sharp gaze turned to her, but before he could ask, Lin Moun bent forward suddenly, covering her mouth with her hand. Silently, she retched.
She fell to her knees, coughing violently, expelling onto the dry earth. Her pale, flawless beauty seemed to collapse under the weight of weakness, each breath making her shoulders tremble.
"Lin Moun!" Zhou Tian immediately leaned to her side, placing a hand on her back. "What's wrong? Did something happen when the ruins collapsed? Were you injured?"
She shook her head, eyes tightly shut. Her complexion had drained completely, yet the retching did not resemble poisoning or mortal injury—it was something deeper, more profound.
A storm of thought swept through Zhou Tian. In the ruins, that strange flame had sealed her cultivation, dimming her aura. Was this the consequence?
"I need to see your condition," Zhou Tian said urgently, reaching out to check her pulse.
But Lin Moun recoiled.
"No," she whispered, her voice rough.
Her reaction was abrupt, extreme, cautious. Zhou Tian paused, frowning.
"Lin Moun, hiding problems in your body won't help."
She raised her eyes to his. Her cold pride fractured, forming a strange mixture of fragility and defiance. The woman he had always regarded as a distant immortal now looked at him with a gaze sharper than any blade, piercing him through.
Her lips trembled. She drew a deep breath, as if summoning courage against her own nature.
"I am not sick," she said slowly. "I… am with child."
The words shattered the air between them.
For a moment, Zhou Tian forgot to breathe. The ruins, the emptiness of the air, even the silent heavens seemed to vanish, leaving only those words echoing in his mind.
"Child…?" Zhou Tian whispered, disbelief in his voice.
Lin Moun's expression remained composed, yet the storm within her could not be hidden.
"Yes," she admitted. "I knew from the beginning. I had suppressed the signs with cultivation, thinking… I could hide it until returning to the immortal realm. But now, with my cultivation sealed, it can no longer be concealed."
Her fists clenched over her garments. "The power within me is restrained, yet it will no longer be hidden."
Zhou Tian's heart raced. Lin Moun—once an immortal towering above countless lives—now knelt before him, fragile, mortal in appearance, admitting a truth that bound her to the mortal realm.
For a moment, Zhou Tian felt fear—what if this were a dream, and in the next moment, she would deny everything, vanish like mist?
Yet Lin Moun's silence, the tremor of her lowered eyelids, all spoke the truth.
A smile rose to Zhou Tian's lips—not mockery, but fierce determination.
"Then there is no problem."
Lin Moun's eyes trembled. "W-what…?"
"No problem," Zhou Tian repeated firmly. "If you carry my child, then it means only one thing—from today, we walk this path together."
The words left his mouth without hesitation. Amid the ruins and chaos of war, his heart had already chosen.
Lin Moun stared at him, stunned. She had expected hesitation, perhaps rejection. She was no longer that distant immortal—the seal had restrained her power, her aura dimmed, her pride wounded. She had thought her condition would only be a burden.
But Zhou Tian looked at her as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
He stood, unwavering, and spoke words that would carve themselves into destiny forever:
"Lin Moun… become my wife."
The proposal struck like lightning.
Her heart froze, mind blank. She had spent countless years in the immortal realm, among proud geniuses and fearsome cultivators, but no one had ever spoken to her like this—not as a goddess to be worshiped, not as a weapon to be wielded, but simply as a woman, plainly and clearly.
"You…" her voice caught.
Zhou Tian did not hesitate. He stepped closer, his presence firm, like the unyielding earth.
"Whether your cultivation is sealed or your aura is dim, even if the immortal realm pursues you—I care for none of it. What I want… is for you to be here, with me. That is enough."
Lin Moun's chest heaved violently. The walls built around her heart began to crack, fissures forming across the cold surface.
For the first time in her life, she wanted to lay down her pride.
Silence embraced the expanse, broken only by the beat of their hearts.
Then, slowly, Lin Moun nodded.
"…I agree."
The words were soft, nearly inaudible, yet heavier than a thousand oaths.
Zhou Tian exhaled, his taut body melting into a rare smile. In that moment, even the ruins seemed less barren.
Lin Moun lowered her eyes, hiding the faint tears gathered at their corners. For someone like her, such admission was harder than any victory in battle, harder than any celestial calamity.
Yet in that moment, she had no regrets.
For the first time in countless years, she was no longer the immortal Lin Moun. She was simply Lin Moun—a woman who had chosen the path to walk beside Zhou Tian.
And as her new reality settled within her, the flame—once a choice, now fully entered—sealed her cultivation and aura. It was no longer her own, but a bond, a tether to Zhou Tian's destiny. The seal did not destroy her spirit; instead, it refined it, intertwining their fates in fire, blood, and will.
The ruins trembled once more, as if acknowledging the choice, as if recognizing the mortal who had survived where immortals had failed, and the immortal who had yielded her pride for love.
In that moment, nothing could undo the bond forged in fire. Not the immortal realm, not the ghosts of the fallen, not even fate itself. The flame had chosen her, and in doing so, had chosen them both.