By the second week of summer, Xiao began dreaming again.
Not of war or sect duties.
But of feathers. Of rooms lit by candlelight. Of Yujin humming while braiding red thread around his wrist.
"Don't take it off," Yujin said as he tied the last knot.
"I won't."
"You're lying. I saw that look."
"I'm not," Xiao chuckled. "It's sacred."
"It's me, Lan-gege," Yujin whispered. "Even if this story ends in some other land, even if you wear a different name… that red thread will know."
Xiao didn't know what to say to that, so he just kissed his palm and pressed it to Yujin's chest.
Later that day, a cultivator came bearing news from Gusu. A cursed fog was forming beyond the lakes, and old seals were breaking.
"Should we go?" Xiao asked that night.
Yujin shook his head, then nodded. "Eventually. But first… let's just fly a little longer."
"Fly?"
"Yes..my sword can carry us. Let's go to the east hills. No missions. Just us."
Xiao smiled. "I've never done that before."
"Good." Yujin kissed him with sunlight still on his tongue. "Then let's make it a memory."