They say gods do not weep. But he did.

In the heart of the Celestial Realm, beneath silver skies and crimson moonlight, he held her broken body in his arms—her white robes stained with blood, her nine golden tails dimming with every breath.

“Who did this?” he had whispered, voice shaking for the first time in centuries.

But her lips trembled with more than pain. Her gaze—those eyes that once held mischief and moonlight—now shimmered only with betrayal.

“I trusted you,” she murmured.
And then... she was gone.

That night, thunder cracked across the heavens. But no justice followed.

The Moon Goddess watched from her palace, veil unshaken.
The Celestial Court declared it fate.

The Fox Clan mourned their Lady in silence, retreating deep into the realm of spirits. They never found her body.

And the War God—once proud heir to the Celestial Throne—locked his heart behind walls no one could breach.

He never stopped searching for the soul who once called him beloved.

A thousand years passed.
The realms forgot. But he never did.

Now, a servant girl enters his palace—eyes like wildfire, voice like a memory.

Something stirs.

And fate, it seems, is not finished with them yet.

The next morning, the palace buzzed with whispers.


Servants murmured about the Blood Moon rising early. Courtiers exchanged uneasy glances. Even the lotus flowers in the imperial ponds seemed slower to bloom — as if nature itself held its breath.


In the midst of it all, Jin Xuan Yue stood still as a statue.


She was pouring tea, her motions graceful… too graceful.


He didn't speak as she knelt, but he caught the subtle twitch in her fingers when his gaze lingered too long.


She hesitated — then rose without a word.


They walked through the peach blossom grove, petals falling like soft rain.


He finally stopped at the old stone pavilion. The place where he'd once given Qing Yue a moonlight comb made of starlight.


"Tell me," he said quietly, "why do you avoid me?"


His tone wasn't cold. It was tired. Like a man who'd been chasing ghosts for a thousand years.


"I only serve as I was ordered," she said carefully.


"And yet you walk like a warrior, not a servant."


"You wear perfume only the Nine-Tailed Clan ever used. You know the path through the Hall of Records better than the librarians. Your voice…" He stepped closer. "It sounds like her."


He stared into her eyes — golden, flickering like a memory.


She didn't move for several seconds. Then bowed, turned… and fled.


Far across the celestial lands, in the Temple of Shadows, Moon Goddess stood before a black pool.


"She will break," the goddess said coolly. "She's always been ruled by her heart."


"He still seeks truth… even if it destroys him."


She raised her hand, and in the dark pool, images swirled — of Jin Xuan Yue, of Qing Yue, of an ancient seal beginning to crack.


"Let them remember," she said. "Let the past bleed into the present. And when they do—"


Chapter 33 - Chapter 32 – Beneath the Surface