The wind that morning carried the faint scent of plum blossoms—a fragrance that stirred a thousand memories Jin Xuan Yue could neither silence nor fully grasp. He stood on the edge of the training terrace, sword in hand, striking into the empty air with mechanical precision.
"Still torturing the wind, I see," came a familiar voice.
Rui Shen leaned against the wooden pillar, an amused smile tugging at his lips, a skewer of roasted chestnuts in hand. "If you're trying to cut through your thoughts, it's not working. You've had that same expression for days—stormy, brooding, and extremely annoying."
Jin Xuan Yue didn't reply.
Rui Shen took a bite, chewed thoughtfully, then asked, "Is it about her?"
That finally got a flicker of reaction. Jin Xuan Yue paused mid-strike.
"She reminds you of her, doesn't she?" Rui continued, stepping closer, lowering his voice. "The girl—Li Hua. You've been watching her."
Jin Xuan Yue turned his gaze toward the horizon, as if hoping the mountains could answer for him.
"Not just reminds me," he said quietly. "She... she moves like her. Speaks like her. Even the way she brushes her hair aside—it's exactly the same."
"Reincarnation?" Rui offered, half-joking. "Or maybe your heart is playing tricks on you."
"I don't know," Jin Xuan Yue murmured, the wind tugging at his sleeves. "But if she truly is Qing Yue… why would she hide it?"
---
Meanwhile, in the servant quarters, Li Hua was scrubbing ink from an old porcelain scroll. Her fingers moved, but her mind was far from the task.
She had seen him again—Jin Xuan Yue—on the training terrace. Every day, it grew harder to keep her mask. Every day, he seemed to look through her just a little more.
"He's beginning to suspect," she whispered to herself, eyes tightening.
"You talking to ghosts again?" came a teasing voice.
Jin Mei poked her head into the room, hands full of dumplings. "Or maybe talking to the ink pot?"
Li Hua forced a smile. "Just... thinking."
Jin Mei narrowed her eyes. "You've been 'thinking' a lot lately. Dangerous habit. Might grow a second head."
Li Hua chuckled despite herself. "If I do, I'll let you name it."
"Excellent! I shall call it Little Flower, after your gentle temper and murderous stare."
---
That evening, in the palace library, Li Hua sneaked in once more. She wasn't alone this time—hidden beneath her robe was a forbidden scroll she had taken from the archives.
Her hands trembled as she unrolled it.
It was a record of the Demon Prophecy. The blood moon, the broken seal, and the one destined to awaken the Demon Star.
But something didn't match.
The prophecy claimed the betrayal came not from the war god… but from within her own clan.
A chill ran down her spine.
She remembered her death, the flames, the screams... and Jin Xuan Yue's face, bathed in shadow.
But what if... she had been wrong?
---
Above it all, the Moon Goddess stood in her shrine of silver and cold wind, her fingers dipped in starlight as she traced the ancient constellation of the Demon Star.
"She's remembering," said the demon, crouched beside her.
"Let her," the Moon Goddess replied, her voice like shattered glass. "Let her dig deeper. The more she learns... the more she'll burn."