Li Tian didn't know why his feet kept moving. Maybe it was instinct. Maybe it was something else. The wind was sharp tonight, carrying a scent that tugged at memories he had tried to bury. A scent like plum blossoms and dried blood.
He pushed through a curtain of vines and stepped into a forgotten glade.
At the center stood an altar of cracked stone, worn by time and silence. On it… stood a figure.
She didn't turn. She didn't have to.
"Yun'er," he breathed, more a prayer than a name.
Her long hair, once tied with the ribbon he had given her, now flowed wild in the wind. The ribbon was gone. So was the warmth in her aura.
"You shouldn't be here," she said quietly, still not looking at him. Her voice didn't sound like hers anymore. "This place doesn't welcome the living."
Li Tian took a step forward. "I didn't come for a welcome."
She finally turned.
He froze.
It was her. But it wasn't.
Yun'er's eyes held shadows deeper than any night sky. And in those eyes, he saw pain—no, rage—burning like dying embers.
"You always wanted answers, Tian," she said. "But some truths don't want to be found."
She lifted a hand. Not in aggression—but as if feeling something unseen.
"They used me," she whispered. "Not just them. Him. Your master. The sect. The whole damn system. I was a piece on their board."
Li Tian clenched his fists. "You think I didn't know? I searched for you. For months. I went against orders. I—"
"You buried me," she cut in. Softly. Bitterly. "Before I was ever gone."
Silence fell like snow.
Then, without warning, the moon above flickered.
A cold wind surged across the glade. When he blinked, she was gone.
All that remained was a single white lotus.
And beneath it, carved into the altar with a dagger's edge, were words freshly written:
"The second life of the Emperor begins in blood—not glory."
Li Tian looked up at the moon again, fists trembling.
She wasn't lost.
She was waiting.
End of chapter 15