As the saying goes: The winds howl through Belobog's chill, the sparrow departs never to return.
Amidst the frozen wasteland, a small figure resembling a snow sparrow rubbed her reddened nose and sneezed softly. "Master Diviner is clearly torturing me..." Qingque muttered, her face scrunched in discomfort. Whether she could find her master remained uncertain, but one thing was clear—she was about to become a Belobog ice sculpture.
Departing from the Luofu in haste, Qingque had navigated her star skiff toward Jarilo-VI, only to find the planet's coordinates frustratingly vague. The star charts were outdated by several Amber Eras, and slight deviations had led her astray.
After all this hardship, just to prevent Master Diviner from becoming a widow... If Fu Xuan were to succumb to mara-struck madness over this, the consequences would be dire.
Qingque had no desire to inherit the title of Master Diviner at such a young age. How could I slack off then?
"Would Master Anming really be in such a godforsaken place? Or did he choose it precisely because it's remote and harsh, thinking Master Diviner would never look here...?" Her eyes flickered to a set of fresh footprints in the snow. The blizzard had momentarily subsided, and the tracks seemed recent. Following them would likely lead her to civilization—and, hopefully, clues about Anming's whereabouts.
Until now, Qingque hadn't fully believed she would actually find him. But Fu Xuan's divinations were rarely wrong. As the most gifted diviner the Luofu had seen in centuries, her readings had to hold some truth.
Qingque had witnessed Anming and Fu Xuan's love story firsthand. At first, she couldn't fathom anyone melting Fu Xuan's icy demeanor (scratch that—aloof demeanor). But in the years she'd spent learning under Anming, she'd come to see him as warm, patient, and kind—though his sword training had been merciless. He'd never forced her, only encouraged.
She knew they were a match made in the stars—a love story cut tragically short.
Anming was a hero. Not because the Alliance decreed it, but because the Cloud Knights spoke his name with reverence, and the people he'd protected remembered him.
Qingque still remembered the day she'd heard of his death. The usually lazy clerk had silently walked to the training grounds and slashed at straw dummies until her hands bled.
She hadn't dared to face Fu Xuan. She couldn't bear to see that grief.
Anming had been her second master—the one who'd turned her into the "Sparrow Sword Sovereign," for better or worse.
If he's really alive... This time, she wouldn't stand by and watch history repeat itself. She had the strength to protect now.
Steeling herself, Qingque followed the footprints into the snow.
Meanwhile, on the Luofu
Fu Xuan sat atop the Qiongguan Matrix, her third eye glowing faintly violet, surrounded by shifting hexagrams. With each breath, the crimson tinge in her eyes faded slightly.
Sending Qingque to Jarilo-VI had been a last resort. It wasn't that she didn't want to search for Anming herself—but the Luofu's stability demanded her presence. And then there was... the secret.
"Anming... is it really you?" Fu Xuan gazed upward, her voice barely a whisper. She had long stopped trusting divinations, yet fate had brushed against something unmistakably his.
How could she resist tracing that presence?
Her clenched fists betrayed her calm facade. Only by gripping Wuming's hilt could she suppress the urge to act.
Not long ago, the second sealed memory had unlocked—revealing more of her past with Anming.
The farthest light, cyan, represented Silver Wolf during the Glamoth era. The violet light marked the period after the Third Abundance War. Now, the final light—the one closest to the present—had begun to flicker.
If the order held, the third memory would soon unseal. Though its implications unsettled her, Fu Xuan refused to hesitate.
This time, I will see the future clearly—no matter the cost.
Even if it meant dragging Anming into mara... even if it meant staining her hands with forbidden arts...
She would pay any price to bring him back.
"I will wait for you," she murmured, fingers tracing the red thread on her sword. "No matter what you become... you will always be my husband."
The Fu Xuan of the past was dead. The day the peach tree stood empty, she had buried that version of herself.
The pain of those days—when even breathing had felt like drowning—would never fade. She had wept a lifetime's tears beneath those branches. What remained was the Master Diviner of the Luofu, willing to do anything for Anming.
What does it matter if it's forbidden?
Anming had spent his life upholding justice and kindness. And where had it led him?
If she had to forsake morality to reclaim him... who could judge her?
Fu Xuan exhaled, forcing the chaos in her mind to still. Memories of Anming coiled around her like vengeful vines, threatening to strangle her sanity. Only the Qiongguan Matrix and her third eye kept her anchored.
As the Luofu's Master Diviner, she bore countless burdens.
But before that... she was Anming's wife.
"Master... you always said fate has but one path." Her crystal-clear eyes shimmered. "Then I will walk it to the end... and meet him there."
Life, soul, body—none of it mattered. Not after losing him.
Anming hadn't lied. He had given her a lifetime of happiness.
But that lifetime... had been far too short.
Like a spring afternoon nap beneath the peach tree—waking to find it had all been a dream.
Reaching out, grasping nothing but regret.
Only the tree remained.