Early summer arrived—the day An Ming left the Luofu.
The Cloud Knights tasked with escorting him did not bind him in shackles, per the General's order. Their eyes held not scorn, but earnest respect.
A crimson maple leaf drifted down, landing softly at his feet.
The streets were crowded with strangers gazing at him with unreadable emotions.
I changed nothing.
I'm just a knight who did his duty.
"Thank you!"
A girl in cyan robes, breathless with a bouquet, rushed forward. The jade token at her waist marked her as an Alchemy Commission disciple. An Ming didn't recognize her, nor understand her gratitude.
"Your body shielded Yu Fei's token… It preserved her final message." Grief flickered in her eyes as she handed him the flowers.
Yu Fei had perished behind him. Her token, sheltered by his form, was the sole relic surviving the Archer's wrath.
"Thank you, An Ming."
"I'm Dan Shu. If we meet again, let me repay you."
With an apologetic bow, she retreated.
An Ming stared at the vibrant blooms—a smile frozen in time.
He had saved something.
Even just a message… it was solace.
Now he understood the crowd's gaze—fervent, warm, reluctant—all because he carried the weight of the fallen.
A distant flute sang—a lament for the departed, a blessing for the journey.
Golden maple leaves sailed on the wind. Asterions laden with prayers and memories sailed toward distant horizons.
Warm, glimmering raindrops fell on his shoulders.
"Farewell—Cloud Knight Captain An Ming!"
"The Xianzhou soars! The Cloud Knights triumph!"
The chant erupted—once, twice—shaking the Luofu, carried on autumn winds to Yuque.
An Ming's vision blurred. Only later did he realize tears had come.
"No final words?"
Jing Yuan stood solemnly, Stonefire Cradle in hand—no trace of his usual languor.
An Ming wiped his eyes, smiling upward.
"The Xianzhou soars. The Cloud Knights triumph."
"Safe travels."
Jing Yuan patted An Ming's shoulder and watched him walk into the Star Chariot, but his back was no longer lonely.
Luofu Courtyard
Fu Xuan clutched a letter, lips pressed tight. Peach blossoms fell like snow.
She hadn't bid him farewell, fearing she'd shatter.
Before leaving, An Ming had brushed her hair, lingering at the door with tender eyes.
"Shijie."
"I'm going."
As if it were any ordinary day—as if he'd return with candied haws to startle her by the window.
But the courtyard would stay empty. No swordplay beneath the peach tree.
"I'm sorry… I failed as your Shijie."
Tears fell freely. She knew crying changed nothing. She should be strong—
Only then can I alter our next meeting.
But today, she allowed herself this final grief.
Petals swirled—pink-white as the snow they'd shared.
If we share snowfall one day, then in this life, we've shared white heads.
Yet the poem's second verse haunted her:
If snow could stand for white hair, why would heartbreak exist?
She gazed where the asterion had vanished—where her love had departed.
Stars crossed paths, their brilliance fading as futures diverged.
Alliance Headquarters
"Marshal."
"Sit."
Beneath a pavilion, Hua sipped tea, crimson ribbons fluttering in her pink hair. A jade oil-paper umbrella hung at her waist.
Yingguang remained standing.
"If Jing Yuan bears blame, let me shoulder it."
"What fault is there?"
Hua slid a cup toward him.
Yingguang frowned. Hua had ordered An Ming's confinement yet permitted the Cloud Knights' send-off. What game did the Marshal play?
"I read the hexagrams," Hua said. "If I told you An Ming is pivotal to the future, what would you do?"
Yingguang sat heavily. "We trust your judgment."
"Good."
"The Alliance needs his sword heart."
"Only reforged can it sever fate."
"So confinement is a ruse?"
"No." Hua's eyes deepened—galaxies swirling within. "The tempering has yet to begin."
True crystal requires annihilation—
To be reborn.
Not yet.
Hua smiled faintly at the horizon. A scarlet maple leaf settled on the table.
An Ming… until we meet again.