The Town of Falling Petals was true to its name. As the sun dipped below the horizon, the annual Blossom Festival began in earnest. Pink and white petals from the surrounding cherry orchards swirled through the streets like fragrant snow, illuminated by the warm glow of thousands of paper lanterns.
Inside the cramped room at the Inn of the Resting Cloud, the atmosphere was considerably less festive.
Luo Zhi stood by the window, his silver hair catching the amber light from the street below. He had changed into a simpler robe—a soft, unadorned blue—but he still looked like a celestial being who had accidentally fallen into a bucket of starlight.
"The townsfolk seem very happy," Luo Zhi observed, his voice light with curiosity. "There is music. And the scent of... is that sugar?"
Ah Ran, who was busy reapplying a layer of protective shimmering dust to his golden hair, scoffed.
"It's fried dough and desperation, Luo Zhi. Mortals celebrate because they know their lives are over in the blink of an eye. It's a frantic, messy display."
"Messy can be beautiful," Luo Zhi replied, turning to look at his husbands.
Xu Bin was sharpening a small dagger. He didn't need to—the blade was already sharp enough to split a soul—but the repetitive motion seemed to be the only thing keeping him from tearing the walls down. He looked up, his dark eyes meeting Luo Zhi's.
"You want to go down there," Xu Bin stated. It wasn't a question.
"I do," Luo Zhi admitted. "I want to see what 'happy' looks like without the burden of immortality."
Ah Ran sighed dramatically, tossing his silk handkerchief onto the bed.
"Fine. But if a peasant spills grease on my robes, I am turning this entire province into a garden of poisonous hemlock."
"And if anyone looks at you too long," Xu Bin added, rising to his feet and sheathing his dagger with a definitive clack, "I am taking their eyes. It's a crowded festival, Luo Zhi. Stay between us."
The Competition of Small Things
The festival was a sensory onslaught. Drums beat a rhythmic heart for the town, and the air was thick with the smoke of incense and grilled meats.
Luo Zhi moved through the crowd with wide-eyed wonder. He stopped at a stall selling candied haws—bright red fruits coated in a glass-like sugar shell.
"They look like rubies," Luo Zhi whispered.
Before he could even reach for his sleeve (forgetting again that he had no money), two hands shot forward.
"I'll take the whole tray," Ah Ran snapped, dropping a silver coin that was worth more than the stall itself.
"I've already paid," Xu Bin grunted, having shoved a gold nugget into the vendor's trembling hand.
The vendor looked back and forth between the ethereal blond man and the terrifying black-clad warrior, his eyes bulging.
"I... I have no change for such wealth, My Lords!"
"Keep it," they both growled simultaneously.
Luo Zhi took a single stick of candied haws, looking at his husbands with a mixture of amusement and confusion.
"I only have one mouth. Why are you both trying to buy the entire market?"
"It's not about the fruit," Ah Ran muttered, his emerald eyes darting toward Xu Bin. "It's about who provides."
"I provide protection," Xu Bin said, stepping closer to Luo Zhi as a group of drunken revelers stumbled past. "He provides... snacks and glitter."
Luo Zhi took a bite of the fruit. The crunch of the sugar and the tartness of the berry made his eyes light up.
"It's delicious. Here."
He held the stick out toward Ah Ran. The Poison Sect Leader froze. His heart hammered against his ribs. In three years, Luo Zhi had never offered him so much as a polite word, let alone a shared treat.
Ah Ran leaned in, his blond hair brushing against Luo Zhi's shoulder, and took a small, delicate bite.
"Too sweet," he murmured, though his expression suggested he had just tasted the nectar of the gods.
Luo Zhi then turned to Xu Bin, offering the last berry.
Xu Bin looked at the stick as if it were a high-grade spiritual weapon. He didn't just take a bite; he wrapped his hand around Luo Zhi's wrist to steady it, his dark gaze locked onto Luo Zhi's face. He ate the fruit slowly, his thumb grazing Luo Zhi's skin.
"Acceptable," Xu Bin rasped, his voice dropping an octave.
The tension between the three was so thick it was a wonder the mortal crowd didn't suffocate. For the first time, the "bad terms" of their marriage were being rewritten by the simple, sticky sweetness of a street snack.
—-------
As they reached the center of the town, where a giant bonfire crackled, the mood shifted.
Luo Zhi felt it first—a ripple in the spiritual veil. His silver hair seemed to stand on end.
"Something is wrong."
Ah Ran's nose wrinkled.
"The scent of oleander... but it's wrong. It's rotted."
Xu Bin's hand was on his sword hilt in an instant.
"Assassins. Not mortal ones."
From the shadows of the cherry trees, figures began to emerge. They were dressed in the gray, tattered robes of the Ghost-Walker Sect—a group of rogue cultivators who specialized in necromancy and soul-stealing. They had been shadows on the periphery of the three sects for years, waiting for a moment of weakness.
And the "Lone Moon" losing his memory was the ultimate weakness.
"Luo Zhi," the leader of the Ghost-Walkers hissed, his face a skeletal mask. "The Southern Peaks are empty. Without your ice-shield, we shall feast on the souls of your people. But first... we shall take yours."
Luo Zhi looked at the skeletal man. He didn't feel fear. He felt a cold, crystalline clarity. The "burn" in his soul—the ascension energy—pulsed.
"You've picked a very loud time to interrupt a festival," Luo Zhi said softly.
"Get behind us," Xu Bin commanded, his black-iron sword unsheathing with a sound like a mountain splitting.
The blade was wreathed in dark, crimson flames.
"Oh, please," Ah Ran sneered, his hands moving in a blur as he pulled vials from his sleeves. "I've been looking for something to vent my frustrations on. Xu Bin, try not to get your blood on my boots."
The fight was a masterpiece of violence.
Xu Bin was a whirlwind of destruction. Every swing of his sword sent waves of demonic fire through the Ghost-Walkers, turning their summoned corpses to ash before they could even scream. He fought with a brutal, protective ferocity, never moving more than five feet away from Luo Zhi.
Ah Ran was a silent shadow. He didn't strike with steel; he moved with the grace of a dancer, flicking drops of iridescent liquid into the air. Wherever the liquid touched, the Ghost-Walkers' flesh began to wither and bloom with black, necrotic flowers.
"Too slow!" Ah Ran laughed, his blond hair whipping around his face like a halo of gold. "Is this the best the Ghost-Walkers can do? I've seen more life in a week-old corpse!"
However, the Ghost-Walker leader was no fool. He saw the way the two husbands hovered around the silver-haired man. He signaled his remaining men to draw the "Dogs of War" away.
A massive, stitched-together monstrosity of bone and sinew lunged at Xu Bin, forcing him to leap back to deliver a killing blow. Simultaneously, a cloud of soul-chilling fog descended on Ah Ran, obscuring his vision.
Luo Zhi was left standing alone by the bonfire.
The Ghost-Walker leader lunged, a jagged soul-hook aimed directly at Luo Zhi's chest.
"Your soul is mine, Immortal!"
Luo Zhi didn't move. He didn't draw a weapon. He simply raised his hand.
The air around him didn't turn cold; it turned still. The falling petals froze in mid-air. The crackle of the bonfire went silent.
"I remember now," Luo Zhi whispered.
A shockwave of pure, blinding silver light erupted from his body. It wasn't an attack of qi; it was an attack of will. The light hit the Ghost-Walker leader, and the man didn't just die—he simply ceased to be. His soul-hook turned to dust, and his body evaporated into a fine, silver mist.
The monstrosity attacking Xu Bin crumbled. The fog surrounding Ah Ran dissipated.
Luo Zhi stood in the center of a crater of white light, his blue robes fluttering. His eyes were glowing like twin moons.
Xu Bin and Ah Ran rushed to his side, their faces pale.
"Luo Zhi!" Ah Ran grabbed his shoulders. "Are you hurt? Did that filth touch you?"
Xu Bin scanned the area, his sword still humming.
"That energy... that wasn't your usual cultivation."
Luo Zhi's eyes slowly faded back to their calm gray. He looked exhausted, his breath hitching in his chest.
"I... I think I used too much of the 'void'."
He swayed, his knees buckling.
Both men caught him. Xu Bin's strong arm went around his waist, while Ah Ran supported his head.
For a moment, they weren't rivals.
They were the two halves of a whole, holding the center of their world.
Luo Zhi looked up at them, a small, tired smile on his lips.
"You both fought very well. It was... impressive."
Ah Ran bit his lip, his emerald eyes shining with a strange emotion.
"You're an idiot. You're supposed to be the strongest of us, yet you're scaring us to death."
"He's not an idiot," Xu Bin said, his voice unusually soft.
He picked Luo Zhi up in his arms, cradling him against his black-plate armor as if he were made of the finest porcelain.
"He's our husband. And he's tired."
—-----
Back at the inn, the silence was different. It wasn't the silence of resentment, but the silence of recovery.
Luo Zhi lay on the bed, his silver hair fanned out. He was asleep, his features peaceful.
Ah Ran sat at the foot of the bed, cleaning a small scratch on his hand with a focused intensity. Xu Bin stood by the door, watching the street.
"He remembered something," Ah Ran said quietly. "During the fight. He said 'I remember now'."
"He remembered how to be the Lone Moon," Xu Bin replied, his gaze not leaving the window. "But he didn't remember us. Not the way we want him to."
"Maybe that's for the best," Ah Ran whispered. He looked at Luo Zhi's sleeping face. "In the past, he would have looked at us with disgust for enjoying a fight. Tonight... he called us impressive."
Xu Bin turned around, his dark silhouette framing the moonlight.
"It doesn't matter what he remembers. He's descending further into that 'void' the monks talked about. If we don't find a way to tie him back to this world—to us—he's going to ascend and leave nothing behind but a silver shadow."
Ah Ran stood up, his blond hair falling over his face.
"Then we make him want to stay. No more fighting each other, Xu Bin. At least, not until he's safe."
Xu Bin walked over to the bed and looked down at Luo Zhi. He reached out, his gloved hand hovering over Luo Zhi's forehead before pulling back.
"A temporary truce," Xu Bin agreed.
"For the sake of the Moon."
As the festival fires died down in the town below, the two husbands sat in the quiet room, guarding the man who had forgotten them, but who—for the first time—had allowed them to hold him.
The journey to the heart of the "Lone Moon" had only just begun, and the path was paved with sugar, blood, and the silver dust of stars.