She dove forward—too fast, too sudden.
The blade sank into her back, just below her shoulder.
Time stopped.
Her gasp was soft, almost surprised. Her knees buckled as she fell into his arms.
"No…" he breathed, catching her as if she were made of glass. "No. No, no, no."
Blood soaked through her robes. The scent of plum blossoms was overtaken by iron.
He cradled her, trembling. "You weren't supposed to—this wasn't—"
"You... always looked better angry," she whispered, a weak smile touching her lips. "Like a god... about to burn the world."
He wept as he held her close, rocking her gently, the battlefield forgotten—until a shadow loomed behind them.
"Xuanjin," came a soft voice.
He turned—
—and pain exploded through his chest.
A sword—familiar. Held by the hand he once trusted more than his own.
Wu Tianye stood behind him, hand steady, eyes unreadable.
"You…?" Xuanjin choked, blood bubbling in his throat.
Yue Lusi tried to reach for him, fingers twitching, mouth open in shock—but she could not rise.
Tianye's face twitched. "I asked you not to do this. She's dangerous. You would've let the empire burn."
"She was mine to protect," Xuanjin snarled, staggering, clutching Yue Lusi closer. "You… were supposed to be my brother!"
"I was," Tianye whispered. "But I loved her too."
Yue Lusi's lips trembled, eyes wide with disbelief. "You…?"
Tianye stepped back, as if ashamed—but it was too late. The blade was deep. The wound final.
Xuanjin collapsed beside Yue Lusi, still holding her as his breath began to falter. She reached up, trembling fingers brushing his blood-streaked cheek.
"I'll find you," she whispered, barely audible. "In another life... where no kings rule us... where no fate tears us apart."
His lips moved, barely. "Always."
And there—beneath the crimson plum tree—two souls broke together.
The blossoms fell silently, as if the heavens themselves dared not make a sound.
And far above, a prophecy shifted—setting into motion a love that would defy death, centuries, and gods themselves.
-------------
In the aftermath of shattered vows and twisted time, the Valley of Forgotten Dynasties buried their names once more. Yet even fate, cruel as it was, could not smother the fire tethering two broken souls.
They were reborn not as prince and noble lady, but as outcasts—whispers in a dying empire.
He was now called Xie Yan—a wandering alchemist feared for his shadow-bound arts, cloaked in exile and crowned in silence. But the world once called him Li Xuanjin.
She was Lian Yue, the veiled exorcist bound to forgotten shrines, known by no clan and feared by many. Yet her soul pulsed with Yue Lusi's eternal fire.
They met again in the rain, beneath the shadow of the Execution Bridge where traitors' names were carved into rotting wood. Her hair was soaked black, her veil thinner than mist. He recognized the shape of her soul before the sound of her voice.
"You followed me into this world," he said, his voice raw like a memory dragged from ash.
"I made a vow," she answered. "If it cursed me, so be it."
He looked away, jaw clenched. "You should have let me go."
But when he turned back, she was crying—not with tears, but with blood. The thorned rosary still circled her wrists, deeper now, as if fate itself refused to let her forget.
"You died for me," she whispered. "Then I was born to bleed for you."
They touched, and the jade pendant between them pulsed once more.
But fate was listening.
That night, Wu Tianye, reborn as the Grand Seer of the Imperial Cult, found them. His robes were white as bone, and his gaze saw through time itself.
"You dare bind again what destiny tore apart?" he spat, shadows writhing at his feet.
"I dare defy it," Xie Yan said, drawing a blade etched with sigils from forgotten gods. "Even if it means my ruin."
Lian Yue stood beside him, hands wrapped in spells too ancient to speak. The storm gathered again. Thunder murmured their sins.
The Grand Seer whispered a curse.
The world began to split.
From the heavens, blood rain fell. The Execution Bridge cracked in two. Fire bloomed like petals from the earth.
But they stood together—back to back—knowing this time, they would fight.
Even if it meant losing each other again.
Even if love had to become war.
Even if the second life ended just as tragically.
Because what they had was no longer love.
It was fate rewritten by blood.
But it also ended the same as the first one
Somewhere in the valley of forgotten dynasties, beneath a sky torn by the red glow of a cursed moon…
The wind keened through the ruins of Xiang Manor, where time no longer dared to move forward. Stone lanterns wept with moss, and the earth itself trembled beneath the weight of a vow never meant to be uttered.
She stood at the altar, nameless in this life, her red veil soaked with rain and sorrow. Her hands bled from the thorned rosewood rosary wrapped around her wrists—an offering of flesh to balance the price of fate.
"If time must steal him from me," she whispered, "then let my soul burn across lifetimes to find him again."
A single drop of her blood struck the jade pendant at her chest. It sizzled, split, and the ChronoKey beneath began to pulse—one heartbeat, two heartbeats, then silence.
The broken sundial above twisted in defiance of heaven, its shadow stretching into midnight though dawn was still hours away. A red moon swelled in the sky, and in the ruins' edge, a figure in black watched.
Eyes like obsidian. Skin like pale smoke. The man didn't move.
"You've cursed yourself," he murmured.
She turned, and beneath the veil, her eyes met his—full of knowing. Full of doom.
"Then we are cursed together."
And when thunder cracked the sky like a judgment, the world shattered