"I wasn't going to."
The rift began to close. He was being pulled back.
"No—damn it—Qingran!"
Qingran looked at him one last time, memorizing the lines of his face, the panic in his eyes, the love that still clung to his voice even now.
And then, without thinking, she reached up, yanked free the tie holding her hair, and twisted a small section around her fingers.
With a quick slice from Lingquan's dagger, which he wordlessly handed over, she cut off the lock.
The hair fell into her palm.
Still warm from her scalp.
Still dark with the scent of her.
She stepped into the dying shimmer of the portal and pressed it into his hand.
"Here..." she said. "This is all I can give you right now."
Yizhou clutched it like it was the last piece of her he'd ever have.
she said. "Think of me. And don't do anything stupid."
