That night, silence fell over the Celestial Palace.
Not even the wind dared disturb the stillness in the Hall of Stars, where Jin Xuan Yue stood alone, staring at the mural of ancient constellations. His expression was unreadable, his jaw tense.
Behind him, the celestial flames in the braziers flickered strangely — bending backward, like bowing before some invisible force.
A faint glow wrapped around his fingertips.
Then he closed his eyes.
And the past came rushing in.
---
One thousand years ago...
Qing Yue stood at the edge of the crystal lake, the moonlight turning her silver hair into falling snow.
He approached slowly, careful not to startle her.
"You always come here when you're troubled," he said gently.
She didn't look at him. "The stars feel quieter here."
He moved beside her, his arm brushing hers. "You still doubt me."
She turned finally — her golden eyes filled with hurt and confusion. "The elders say it's forbidden for my kind to love yours."
"I don't care what they say."
"But I do."
He reached for her hand.
She didn't pull away.
"Qing Yue," he whispered, "I don't care if you have nine tails or none at all. I don't care if the heavens turn against me. I want you."
A pause. Her voice barely audible.
"…Even if one day I stop believing in you?"
"I will believe enough for us both."
---
Now.
Jin Xuan Yue's eyes flew open.
His breath caught in his throat.
That scene—so vivid, so real—it hadn't come from memory alone.
It had come from her.
Li Hua…
He clenched his fists.
She wasn't just familiar. She was tethered to him by something deeper than memory. Something that pulsed through his blood like an echo — a promise never fulfilled.
---
Meanwhile, Li Hua stood in the garden courtyard, unable to sleep. The moon was pale and hollow above her, its light tainted by a shadow that lingered just out of reach.
She stared up at it.
The moon had once been her ally.
Now it watched her like a predator.
And deep inside her chest, the jade pendant burned warm.
A seal is breaking... and I'm not the only one who feels it.
---
Far away, in the obsidian shrine, the Moon Goddess lowered a covered tray onto her altar.
"Tonight," she whispered, "he dreams of her. Just as planned."
The demon by her side tilted his head. "Will you show him the truth?"
"No," she purred, drawing back the cloth.
Inside the tray was a mirror. But not just any mirror.
A soul mirror — capable of revealing not the face… but the truth of the heart.
"I will let him see what he fears most," she said softly. "And watch him fall apart piece by piece."