The forest had changed.
Shen Yueli noticed it first in the way the air moved— less like mere wind and more like breath, warm and watchful.
The trees, ancient and gnarled, seemed to lean in as if listening to her heartbeat.
And maybe they were.
Everything in the Northern wild lands pulsed with quiet magic, and now, she could feel it.
A week had passed since Di Yan brought her to the cave, and each day since, she'd risen stronger. Her limbs no longer trembled. Her spirit no longer cowered. She wasn't whole, not yet— but she was mending.
She wandered deeper into the woods that morning, Di Yan trailing a short distance behind her, silent as ever. He allowed her space, always, as if he understood her need to reclaim herself without asking for permission.
The deeper she walked, the more the trees seemed to whisper.
Yueli paused at a clearing bathed in the light of the rising second moon. A crystal pond lay at its heart, glowing faintly blue. The moment she stepped closer, her heart stirred with strange emotion— like déjà vu wrapped in longing.
" This place…" she murmured. " It feels like it remembers me."
Di Yan's voice came soft behind her.
" This is the Lunar Mirror. It reflects not only the body, but the soul."
She stepped to its edge and gazed into the water.
Her reflection stared back— pale,
exhausted, eyes haunted— but beneath that… something shimmered. A silver outline flickered around her heart. The crescent mark had grown clearer. More defined.
" What is happening to me?" she whispered.
Di Yan stepped beside her. " The moon's choosing you. It senses your rebirth.
The mark is its way of preparing you for the path ahead."
Yueli frowned. " Path to what?"
He didn't answer. But she felt it— a pull deeper into the forest, like the trees were summoning her onward.
—
That night, she woke to the sound of singing.
Soft. Ethereal. Not human.
She rose slowly and followed it barefoot through the dark, Di Yan appearing silently at her side again. He didn't speak, didn't stop her.
They reached a grove lit by moonlight so bright, it looked like day. Petals rained down from trees that hadn't bloomed in decades. And in the center stood a woman— tall, robed in silver, hair like mist.
" The moon spirit," Di Yan whispered, bowing low.
Yueli instinctively did the same, though her heart thundered.
The spirit's voice drifted like wind- chimes. " Shen Yueli. Marked,
abandoned, yet not broken. You carry life, and within you lies a forgotten power."
Yueli raised her eyes slowly. " what power?"
The spirit extended a pale hand. " Your blood remembers. The moonstone was never just your clan's relic— it chose you.
Its essence still burns within. It calls to be awakened."
Yueli's breath caught. " But I lost it.
Yechen—"
" Yechen cannot contain what does not belong to him. When he severed your bond, the stone returned to its true bearer. " You."
Her chest tightened, not with pain, but with something hot and electric. Power.
" But I don't know how to use it."
The spirit smiled. " You will. When the time comes."
Then, in a blink, the grove dimmed. The petals vanished. The spirit was gone.
Yueli turned to Di Yan, breathless. " Did that really happen?"
He looked at her with new reverence.
" Yes. And now you know— you are more
than someone's mate. You are chosen."
She touched her chest where the crescent glowed faintly beneath her skin. Not a wound. A promise.
She was beginning again— not just as a woman, not just as a mother— but as something greater than she'd ever imagined.
—
The days that followed felt different.
Yueli no longer saw the forest as just a place to hide. It became her teacher.
Each leaf that brushed her skin, each branch that swayed in the wind, whispered lessons of resilience. Di Yan guided her still, but with less instruction now— more like a companion than a guardian.
One morning, as she practiced near the river bank, a small animal— a white hare— approached her and nestled at her feet. She crouched, blinking at it in surprise.
" Even the forest knows you now," Di Yan said from a distance. " You're becoming part of it."
She stroked the hare gently, heart warm.
For the first time, she didn't feel like an outsider.
They built a small garden near the cave, where herbs and flowers took root in neat rows. She found herself humming lullabies while working, fingers deep in the soil, the baby's presence in her belly growing stronger with every passing day.
Di Yan carved a pendant from a smooth river stone and tied it around Yueli's wrist. Not as gift— but as a symbol.
" You said you didn't know who you were without Yechen," he said. " Now you're becoming someone else. Someone stronger."
At night, Yueli often found herself lying awake, hand over her growing belly. She spoke softly to her child— promises of strength, of safety, of love that would never be conditional.
And though Di Yan never crossed a line, his presence became an anchor.
She no longer feared the silence.
She welcomed it.
One twilight evening, as the two of them sat near the fire, Yueli glanced at him.
" Why did you stay with me all this time?"
Di Yan's gaze didn't waver. " Because I saw something in you the world tried to crush— but failed."
She looked away quickly, not ready to face the warmth rising in her cheeks.
Not yet.
But maybe soon.
Later that same evening, when he quietly handed her a freshly dried bunch of moon- blossoms to tuck under her pillow— a small gesture, full of silent care— Yueli realized something she hadn't dared admit: she wasn't just healing.
She was beginning to hope again.