Ren's heartbeat hadn't slowed since Li Wei's words—
"I'd rather destroy the world than lose you again."
Even after Li Wei vanished into the night mist, that voice lingered in his ears, coiling around his thoughts like smoke. The apartment was too quiet, too cold. Ren sat on his bed, staring at the faint scar on his wrist—the one that always pulsed when Li Wei was near.
He wanted to believe it was all madness. That the dreams, the warmth, the voice that called him beloved in another tongue, were just hallucinations born of exhaustion.
But when he closed his eyes, he could still feel the echo of Li Wei's hand—rough, trembling, clinging to him like someone who had already lost him once.
The air shimmered.
A faint hiss, almost like a sigh, slithered through the room.
"Still running from me, little one?" Li Wei's voice, soft but heavy with power, unfurled from the shadows. He stepped into the moonlight—unearthly, beautiful, dangerous. His eyes burned gold, not human at all.
Ren froze. "You shouldn't be here…"
Li Wei tilted his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "You say that every time. Yet you never ask me to leave."
Ren's throat tightened. "Because you never listen."
Li Wei's gaze softened—something ancient, aching beneath the arrogance. "You still don't remember, do you?" He stepped closer, and the air seemed to hum. "The courtyard… the temple bells… your blood on my hands…"
A sharp pain flashed behind Ren's eyes—images flooding like a tide: white robes, incense smoke, a serpent coiled around a dying man's body, his own voice whispering, I'll come back to you.
Ren stumbled, clutching his chest. "Stop—what are you doing—"
Li Wei caught him before he fell, his hand against Ren's heart. "Not me. You're remembering."
The touch burned—not painfully, but with recognition.
Every beat of Ren's heart synced with Li Wei's breath. The room dimmed, shadows bending toward them like worshippers. For a moment, Ren saw scales glinting beneath Li Wei's skin, shimmering like stars under water.
"Who… was I?" Ren whispered.
Li Wei's voice broke. "Mine."
Ren wanted to deny it, but tears slipped down his cheeks—tears he didn't understand. The echo of another life pulsed behind his ribs, the same ache, the same yearning.
Li Wei brushed his thumb over Ren's lips, reverent and desperate all at once. "The bond has awakened again. You can't hide from what you are."
Ren's pulse raced. "And what if I don't want this fate?"
Li Wei smiled sadly. "You said that once before… right before you died."
The room fell silent—only the sound of their uneven breathing.
Ren's eyes widened, the truth trembling at the edge of memory.
And somewhere, far away, the serpent stirred again.