Through Anming's existence, Fu Xuan found reason to converse with Jingtian again. Though master and disciple held diametrically opposed views on fate, Fu Xuan's core desire remained unchanged - to avert the future where she'd raise her blade against her teacher.
Her rebellion against destiny stemmed from refusal to become its slave. There must be a way to alter this tragic course - otherwise, what meaning existed in all their accumulated moments?
"Junior, your future remains veiled to me."
Pink petals drifted into the crystalline stream, carrying secrets to unknown destinations. Barefoot in the shallows, Fu Xuan gazed skyward, mind purposefully blank. The weight of celestial mysteries had wearied her soul.
"Is the future truly so alluring?" Anming's practice blade stirred petal storms beneath peach boughs.
Fu Xuan turned, blossoms crowning her hair like nature's diadem. "If destiny decreed our separation, would you submit or..."
"It won't happen."
"Eh?"
"That day will never come."
The boy's solemn gaze pinned her. "I won't let Sister leave me."
A passing petal curtain briefly obscured Fu Xuan's vision. When it lifted, her lips curved in fragile hope. "Indeed."
She emerged from the stream, grass blades kissing her toes. "Speak such brave words after surpassing my height, little one."
Anming pouted, measuring their difference. "Sister bullies me! All long-life species cheat!"
"..."
The casual remark struck Fu Xuan like frozen steel. Her decade-spanning visits were mere eye-blinks for a Xianzhou native, but constituted over tenth of Anming's lifespan. Dread coiled around her heart as she realized - this mortal comet would blaze through her eternal night, leaving only fading trails.
"Junior."
"Hmm?"
"Nothing..."
Her fingers tangled in his hair, the gesture equal parts affection and desperation. *Master... why did you bring this transient star into our orbit?*
**[Age 11: Fu Xuan extends her stays on Yuque, arriving with peach buds and departing amidst summer cicadas. From her, you learn of escalating skirmishes with Abundance's spawn near Fanghu]**
"Hey, heard the news?"
Anni's whisper carried across the training grounds. "The Abundance's whelps are mobilizing. What if it's another Great War? There's no Cloud Quintet to save us now."
"New heroes will rise." Anming's blade traced familiar arcs. "They always do."
**[Age 12: Alliance bulletins report increasing Yaoshi cultist activities. The pre-storm tension weighs heavy on all. Fu Xuan confesses even her augmented divinations show only fragmented visions of the coming conflict]**
By the window, Fu Xuan cradled her tea cup like a wounded bird. The proud swan Anming remembered now seemed fragile - crystal eyes clouded with uncertainties she'd never shown before.
"Sister Xuan."
"Hmm?"
"You've grown."
The observation slipped out unbidden. In mere mortal years, the mischievous sprout had become a sapling warrior, though his sword-heart remained prism-pure.
"None remain children forever." Anming's gaze held hers. "Did Sister want me eternally trailing your skirts?"
The teacup trembled. "I simply... wish time moved slower."
Ripples distorted their reflections. "Give me more moments..."
"Sister Xuan."
Anming's hand covered hers, steadying the cup. "You'll always be my sister."
In the liquid mirror, Fu Xuan's smile bloomed like forced spring - beautiful, brittle, and too aware of autumn's approach.
Outside, peach petals swirled in gathering winds, nature's herald for the storm to come.