"Explain this to me."
Long Jianyu raised his hand slowly, palm upturned.
A faint crimson glow materialized in the air above it—the ethereal red thread shimmering like silk spun from starlight and blood. His brow furrowed deeply, confusion and frustration warring across his sharp features.
Within the crystal-like curtain of waterfalls, the Spirit Divine Foreteller's form shimmered into view, her ethereal presence rippling through the translucent cascade.
She regarded him with ancient, knowing eyes, a faint smile playing at the corners of her lips.
"As I expected, you came to me for that matter." Her voice carried the weight of centuries, echoing through the crystalline barrier as if the water itself spoke.
She gestured toward the glowing thread with one graceful hand, her movements causing gentle distortions in the waterfall's surface.
"Still, you don't understand the meaningful reason for this? This is the red thread—the most appropriate conduit to find your fated one. Since it appeared purposely, manifesting before your very eyes, does that mean you've already found her?"
Long Jianyu's jaw tightened, his hand clenching into a fist as the thread flickered and dimmed.
"Fated one?" His voice was low, edged with barely restrained anger. "You lied."
"Long Jianyu," the Foreteller said gently, her expression softening with something akin to pity through the crystalline veil. "The mind wavers like wind through bamboo. Of course, there are precious moments you've forgotten despite—or perhaps because of—being cursed."
She paused, her form becoming more vivid within the waterfall, as if drawing closer to its surface.
"But one thing doesn't waver… is your heart for her."
Long Jianyu's breath caught.
"My heart…" His voice dropped to barely a whisper. "For her?"
"Look at you."
The Foreteller's gaze swept over him from within her watery prison, taking in the tension in his shoulders, the confusion clouding his normally sharp eyes.
"It confirms that your mind is flooded with unresolved queries, questions tangling upon questions like knots in silk."
Her image shifted within the crystal-like curtain, the light refracting through the falling water around her luminous form.
"I, as a Spirit Divine Foreteller, can say with certainty—you will meet her again in this lifetime. One day, when you restore your memory, when the fog lifts from your past, you will understand everything."
Her expression grew grave, urgent, the waters around her manifestation darkening slightly.
"My advice, since she was placed in your hands by fate itself, is to make a resolution—a vow for both of you—on how to navigate out of this perilous world. Her life depends on you, Lord Long. You must live, so she can return, even if she has undergone countless departures, countless deaths and rebirths across the ages."
Long Jianyu's thoughts raced, tumbling over one another.
In this lifetime? Did we meet each other a long time ago? In another life, another world?
"Long Jianyu," the Foreteller continued, her tone taking on an almost maternal quality, her voice resonating through the crystalline cascade, "help her. Guide her with patience. Motivate her to understand every being she encounters, every truth hidden in this realm."
Her eyes bore into Long Jianyu's with startling intensity, piercing through the shimmering barrier between them.
"This time, she is the only one who can resolve the curse laid upon you. Without her, you can never get close to any woman in the realm. Be cautious not to hurt yourself again—not to let the curse consume you as it has before."
Long Jianyu's expression hardened, his patience fraying.
"Tell me directly. Stop speaking in riddles."
The Foreteller nodded, as if she'd been waiting for this demand, her form rippling with the movement.
"Very well. She can get close to you, while others cannot. With her by your side, you can approach and socialize with others without the curse activating, without the searing pain and illness that afflicts you when any other woman draws near. Without her?"
She shook her head slowly, the motion sending gentle waves through the waterfall curtain.
"The procedure becomes unbearable. You cannot stray far from her—the distance has a limit, an invisible tether binding you together. In other words, she is the only one who can neutralize the poison injected into you by An Chi all those years ago."
Long Jianyu studied the Foreteller's face through the crystalline barrier, searching for any hint of deception in her ethereal features.
"How can I make sure that your words can be trusted? That this isn't another manipulation?"
The Spirit Divine Foreteller's expression remained serene, untroubled by the accusation.
"If you believe me, that choice represents your greatest opportunity—perhaps your only opportunity for freedom. And if you don't believe…"
She spread her hands in a gesture of acceptance, the movement causing ripples of light to dance across the water's surface.
"It's up to you, Lord Long. I cannot force faith upon you."
Her gaze became distant, as if seeing through the crystalline curtain into realms beyond mortal sight.
"I am the mirror of your hardship since the very beginning of your curse. I have watched your suffering unfold like a scroll painting, each brushstroke of pain and loss. I can predict the future that lies ahead, the paths that branch before you like roads in a dark forest."
Her eyes returned to Long Jianyu, clear and unwavering through the shimmering veil.
"So, every detail I have spoken is according to the thread of fate itself—the same thread that binds you to her, now and forever."
Long Jianyu stood motionless, the red thread still glowing faintly around his hand, his mind churning with revelations that felt both foreign and achingly familiar, like a half-remembered dream.
The Spirit Divine Foreteller's form began to fade within the crystal-like waterfall curtain, her manifestation dissolving back into the cascading waters, leaving only the echo of her words and the shimmer of light on the translucent barrier.
When he returned to his underground sanctuary, Long Jianyu's footsteps echoed through the empty stone corridors, each step heavy with the weight of the Foreteller's revelations.
The silence pressed against him—a familiar companion after centuries of solitude, yet tonight it felt different, charged with possibility and dread in equal measure.
He pushed open the heavy door to his bedchamber, the ancient hinges groaning softly.
The dim glow of spirit lamps cast dancing shadows across the walls, illuminating the figure lying motionless on his bed.
Yu Xiao.
Long Jianyu approached slowly, his movements careful, deliberate.
He lowered himself onto the edge of the bed beside her unconscious form, his dark eyes studying her pale face.
Her breathing was shallow but steady, her features peaceful despite whatever ordeal had rendered her senseless.
The red thread around his hand pulsed faintly, as if responding to her proximity.
She is the only one who can resolve the curse laid upon you.
He reached out, hesitating for just a heartbeat before his fingers gently brushed a stray lock of hair from her forehead.
No searing pain.
No sudden illness clawing at his insides.
Just... warmth.
The simple, profound miracle of touch without suffering.
"Who are you?" he murmured, his voice barely audible in the quiet chamber. "Who were you to me... before?"
The Foreteller's words echoed in his mind:
Your heart for her. Precious moments you've forgotten. You will meet her again in this lifetime.
Long Jianyu's hand lingered near Yu Xiao's face, trembling slightly.
After centuries of isolation, of pain at the mere approach of any woman, here lay someone who defied the very curse that had imprisoned him.
Someone his heart apparently recognized, even if his fractured memory did not.
Her life depends on you. You must live, so she can return.
His jaw clenched as determination hardened in his chest.
He didn't understand the connection between them, couldn't recall what the Foreteller claimed he'd forgotten.
But the evidence was undeniable—Yu Xiao could be near him without consequence.
She was the key to his freedom, perhaps, but more than that...
She might be the answer to a loneliness that had stretched across centuries.
"I don't know what we were to each other," Long Jianyu said quietly, his gaze never leaving her still face. "But I will protect you. I will help you understand this world, as she said. And perhaps..."
His voice dropped to a whisper.
"Perhaps you can help me remember what I've lost."
"Dijun? Dijun?"
Yun Qingjue waved his hand in front of his Dijun's face, his brow furrowing with concern.
The motion finally broke through the fog of Long Jianyu's thoughts.
He blinked, his distant gaze sharpening as he snapped back to the present, focusing on Yun Qingjue's expectant expression.
The memories of the Spirit Divine Foreteller's words, of Yu Xiao lying unconscious in his bedchamber, had pulled him so deeply into contemplation that the world around him had faded entirely.
"What's wrong with you? You're spacing out."
Yun Qingjue tilted his head, studying his Dijun with a mixture of curiosity and amusement.
"See, you've been standing here for more than five minutes, staring at nothing."
A knowing smile crept across his face.
"Would I say… you're thinking about something? Or perhaps someone?"
Long Jianyu's expression remained impassive, but something flickered in his eyes—a brief vulnerability quickly shuttered away.
"Dijun…"
Yun Qingjue's smile widened as he reached out and tapped Long Jianyu's shoulder with familiar ease.
"Just ensure that the medicine is well done, or else if it's not bitter enough, you won't be able to persuade me to buy more candies for the Young Lady, Miss Yu."
His tone was light, teasing, as if he'd just uncovered a delightful secret.
Long Jianyu's eyes widened in disbelief, his carefully maintained composure cracking.
The implication in Yun Qingjue's words—that he, the feared and isolated Dijun, would concern himself with candies and coaxing a young woman to take her medicine—was so absurd, so domestic, that for a moment he could only stare.
"Don't worry," Yun Qingjue added, his teasing smile softening into something more genuine, more encouraging. "Most importantly, what matters is that she heals completely. That's what you want, isn't it?"
The knowing look in his eyes suggested he understood far more than he was saying—perhaps he'd noticed how different his Dijun had been since Yu Xiao's arrival, how the centuries-old walls of isolation were beginning to show cracks.
"I'll see myself off, Dijun." Yun Qingjue pressed his lips together, clearly trying to suppress a wider grin, and a faint blush colored his cheeks—whether from his own boldness in teasing his master or from the sheer unusualness of the situation, it was hard to say.
He offered a respectful bow, though the mischievous glint never quite left his eyes, then turned on his heel and strode toward the door.
Long Jianyu stood motionless, watching Yun Qingjue's retreating figure.
The silence of his underground sanctuary settled around him once more, but somehow it felt less oppressive than before.
His gaze drifted toward the direction of his bedchamber, where Yu Xiao still lay unconscious.
Candies, he thought with a mixture of bewilderment and something that might have been the ghost of amusement.
When was the last time I concerned myself with something so… trivial?
Yet as he turned to check on the brewing medicine, ensuring it would be prepared exactly as needed, he found himself considering Yun Qingjue's words.
If the medicine was too bitter, would Yu Xiao refuse it?
Would he truly need to procure sweets to coax her into taking it?