While chaos and a chilling silence crept over the lands outside, within the quiet chamber of the Hei Lin San Sect, peace still lingered....
or rather, something more tender, more sacred.
There, inside the softly lit room, Mo Yan sat beside Yu Sui.
The frost outside bit into walls and windows,
but their hearts, their souls, were warm...entwined in a quiet, wordless understanding.
Yu Sui, as always, sat close, lovingly polishing his bamboo flute.
He glanced toward Mo Yan with a gentle smile playing on his lips, and in that deep voice of his, laced with rare softness, he spoke:
"Mo Yan...
You know, I've always kept this flute out for one reason only....
So that someday, I could play its sweetest tune… just for you."
Mo Yan's face bloomed...like a garden of roses bathed in morning light.
He rested his head gently on Yu Sui's shoulder,
like the spirit of the earth itself curling up to sleep upon a mountain wrapped in soft, spring grass.
And with that single touch, Yu Sui's every sorrow, every wound, every weight… vanished.
How could he not feel joy, not feel peace, when the one who healed him so effortlessly was right there...leaning on him?
For Mo Yan, the one who began his life with Yu Sui,
and knew, somehow, that his end would belong to him too…
this moment felt whole.
Complete.
Yu Sui glanced at him, so close, so tender.
And then, lifting the flute to his lips....he played.
That melody…
The very same one he had once played back at Liuguang Academy,
only for Mo Yan.
The melody that had whispered....
"Even if we're apart,
you will always remain close to my heart…
my delicate, dry leaf."
The music drifted into the room, as if sweetness itself had been poured into the air.
Outside, the falling snow shimmered.....like flower petals adorning the world.
Inside, Mo Yan was lost, completely and utterly, in Yu Sui's song.
Every note, every breath, sank into his soul.
In their own room, Duie and Su Nian, who had been preparing a warm herbal tea for Yu Sui and Mo Yan, paused.
The melody reached them through the walls,
so soft, so beautiful,
they could do nothing but close their eyes,
as if an angel from the heavens had come down to sing them a lullaby.
The tune held love.
It held emotion.
And above all… it held confession.
Everyone knew where the song was coming from.
No one questioned it.
Lao Duan and Wuzu, who had been polishing their swords, preparing to visit Duie and Su Nian,
found themselves pausing too.....
a gentle smile breaking across their faces.
Even Wuzu, ever the blunt one, couldn't help but murmur:
"Maybe fate really did choose the right man to be the Black Heaven King…
Had it been someone vile, this world would've ended long ago."
The two chuckled, walking outside together,
taking slow steps as the melody swirled around them like a sweet wind.
Meanwhile, Wey Xiong had already arrived at Duie and Su Nian's room, drawn by the aroma of tea that tasted more like medicine....
healing and cherished by everyone,
not only for its warmth,
but for the sacred, bittersweet bond it represented between Duie and Su Nian.
Their love....
spicy and sweet,
gentle and stormy,
was a tea the whole sect had learned to love.
---
The Scroll Arrives
At that same moment…
Three Masters...solemn and robed.....approached the same door,
each step measured, deliberate.
In the hand of one, a violet scroll,
its seal glowing faintly.
Its presence whispered of something… significant.
Unspoken worry clouded their hearts, though they said nothing aloud.
But as the soft melody and the fragrance of love filled the air,
even their anxious thoughts… stilled.
Just for a moment, the storm in their minds paused.
When the masters finally reached the door,
they found Lao Duan, Wuzu, and others already gathered there, waiting.
As the masters stepped in,
the disciples wuzu ,lao duan,duie,su nian and wey xiong bowed with respect,
lowering their heads in reverence,
welcoming them with calm and humility.
And then.....
the music ceased.
The moment the flute fell silent…
A strange weight returned.
The masters' faces…
visibly paled.
Their expressions dulled,
like a candle slowly being snuffed out by a sudden wind.
The peace shattered.
The scroll was about to be opened.
And something… was about to begin.