Jingtian, Master Diviner of Yuque, perished in the Third Abundance War. By operating the Kan Yun Lens to summon the Divine Archer's judgment, he ended the conflict at Fanghu.
An Ming, Yuque's Cloud Knight Captain, slew tens of thousands of foes but bore the Mark of Abundance—thus receiving no commendation.
Fu Xuan of the Luofu, whose divinations pinpointed the sole turning point, was promoted to Master Diviner of the Luofu's Divination Commission.
[Age 18. This year, you remained in Luofu. The shattered Wuye mirrored your fractured sword heart, beyond repair. Fu Xuan became the Diviner fate demanded—not of Yuque, but Luofu.]
The first snow of early winter drifted like goose feathers onto Fu Xuan's palm. Her expressionless face finally softened.
"An Ming."
"It's snowing."
Peach branches glistened with frost, resembling strings of candied haws swaying in the wind.
An Ming leaned by the window, handing her a warm cup of sweet tea. "Xuan'er, don't catch cold."
"I'm not a child…" Fu Xuan took the cup, her willow-leaf brows arching belatedly. "How many times must I say—don't call me that!"
"If Shijie prefers that title, I'll oblige."
His gentle smile pained her. This quiet, hollow An Ming wasn't the bold knight she once knew.
Fu Xuan trudged through snow to the window, cheeks flushed. "If… if you beat me in a snowball fight, I'll allow you… to kiss me." The last words vanished into a whisper.
"Hmm… is this Shijie's reward for winning?" An Ming brushed snow from her hair—fluffy as a kitten's ears.
Fu Xuan's face burned crimson. She set down the tea and crouched, hiding.
"Shijie, I apologize."
As he leaned out, a snowball exploded against his head. Ice trickled down his neck.
"Pfft… idiot An Ming!"
Fu Xuan giggled, dual-wielding snowballs. An Ming vaulted through the window, countering with a precise shot.
"Ack—!" She toppled into the snow, forehead reddening adorably.
"Silly Xuan'er. You can't win against me."
"You—!"
Rubbing her bump, she glared. Blockhead! Clueless! Rotten Shidi!
Pink prismatic light flared in her eyes. Starry hexagrams materialized.
"That's cheating, Shijie!"
A machine-gun barrage of guided snowballs chased An Ming across the yard. Five minutes later, Fu Xuan sipped her tea victoriously.
Beneath the peach tree, An Ming wore a familiar grin—the one she'd missed for a year. Since returning from Fanghu, he'd become a ghost of himself, speaking only to her. She'd never forget how he'd clutched her sleeve, trembling:
"Shijie… I only have you left."
Fu Xuan approached, offering the cup. As he reached for it, she pinned him against the trunk, silencing his protest with a kiss.
Sweet. Like candied haws and peach blossoms.
An Ming shifted the cup to his left hand, his right circling her waist. Snowflakes dusted their hair as they forgot the world.
Fu Xuan's cheeks bloomed pink. "An Ming… there's a Xianzhou poem."
"Hmm?"
"If we share snowfall one day, then in this life, we've shared white heads."
She cupped his face, snow melting between her fingers.
"An Ming."
"I'm here, Shijie."
"Whatever the future holds… I don't care anymore."
Closing her eyes, she kissed him deeply.
The snow stopped. In the white silence, two hearts beat as one.
If love's end is known from the start, would one still choose it?
Fu Xuan had her answer.
Fate offered one path. She couldn't save her master. She couldn't foresee their future.
But she'd love anyway.
Regret was life's true curse. She'd choose the path without it—even if pain followed.
Fate, if you must be cruel… grant me this moment.
"Xuan'er…"
"Yes?"
"You're beautiful."
Fu Xuan's blush deepened. Who knew her blockhead Shidi could fluster her so?
"Idiot An Ming!" She turned away, flustered. "This… this Diviner ignores you now!"
"But Shijie hasn't officially assumed the title yet?"
"Idiot An Ming!"