The double bed, crafted from an unknown wood, sat snugly by the window—its circular cutout framing a picturesque courtyard and that stubbornly flowerless peach tree.
A vintage tea table was cluttered with herbs and tea leaves, evidence of the Grand Astrologer's hobby of blending new brews in her spare time. Near the door, shelves groaned under the weight of complex divination tomes, with a few strewn on the floor—likely left there because Fu Xuan's stature made reshelving them a hassle.
This was the entirety of Fu Xuan's quarters in the Divination Commission. Austere by any measure, downright humble for someone of her station.
The bed, however, was soft. So soft that the moment Anming laid Fu Xuan down, her petite frame sank into the mattress, curling adorably yet forlornly amid its expanse.
At first, Anming hadn't understood why Fu Xuan needed such a large bed for one. Then he noticed the second pillow.
Fu Xuan had long grown accustomed to nights with Anming. In the past, she'd press her cheek to his chest, arms wrapped around him, drifting off with a contented smile.
How often had she dreamed of waking one morning to find her beloved beside her again?
Fu Xuan was nostalgic to her core. The furniture's alignment, the taste of her tea—everything bore traces of the past.
She was trapped in the whirlpool of what once was, unable to break free. Try as she might to forget, how could she?
A tree along the road, a passing Cloud Knight, a milk tea shop—none bore Anming's mark, yet everything reminded her of him.
She'd shut her eyes in anguish, memories flashing brighter each time, as if fate refused to let her go.
She didn't want to forget. She couldn't.
Seventy years was a blink in Fu Xuan's long life. Yet the happiness she'd known in that span had vanished without a trace.
Those seventy years outweighed a lifetime.
Fu Xuan regretted not dying with Anming in the past. If they couldn't share life, they should have shared death.
Anming had given her all his love—his very life. His tender gaze still haunted her dreams, jolting her awake to an empty bed bathed in moonlight, tears soaking her pillow.
To outsiders, Fu Xuan was unshakable—the youngest Grand Astrologer in history, peerless in intellect and courage. But when night fell, even she would silently drench her pillow with tears.
Tears were endless. The only recourse was to change fate—to forge a future where Anming lived.
By any means necessary. At any cost!
Blinking awake to a familiar silhouette, Fu Xuan thought she was dreaming again.
She reached out, clutching that remembered happiness. "Foolish Anming... this time, I won't let go." Not for anything. Not even death.
Nothing would part them—not mortality, not fate, not even Aeons.
"Xuan'er, I won't leave you either."
"Huh?"
The blurry figure solidified. The warmth in her arms was real. Fu Xuan's face burned crimson as she snatched a pillow and slammed it into Anming's head.
"Pervy degenerate sneaking into the Grand Astrologer's boudoir?!"
Whap! Whap! Whap! The fluffy pillow pummeled Anming's face like a jackhammer. The young Sword Champion pondered life's mysteries—Weren't you just vowing to never let go? Why the attempted homicide now?
Ah, the female heart is truly inscrutable.
Anming raised a hand, effortlessly intercepting the pillow. Lesser men would've had three-meter grave grass by now. "Shijie, behave."
"You—! Don't call me that!" Fu Xuan's voice instantly softened, her earlier ferocity evaporating. Even the redness in her eyes faded.
Jing Yuan would've wept at this medical miracle. Why didn't "Shizun" work like this for him?
Now sitting seiza-style on the bed, Fu Xuan hugged the pillow to her chest, occasionally poking Anming with it.
"Shijie, we're centuries old. Why so shy?"
"Die!"
Fu Xuan's expression darkened. Leave it to Anming to toy with her emotions like a master clockmaker.
"Explain."
"Huh?"
"...Anming!"
She kicked at his chest, but he stood firm, catching her ankle mid-air.
Deciding to quit while ahead, Anming released her and recounted recent events—emphasizing the simulated cycles, glossing over certain details about Firefly in Jarilo-VI.
Prioritization was key. No need to waste the Grand Astrologer's precious time.
Best to SKIP the "irrelevant" parts.
Otherwise, they'd be headed for Round Two, and the Commission couldn't afford another demolition. The Stellaron crisis was unresolved, yet he and Fu Xuan were already halfway to dismantling the Luofu.
A red-faced Xuan'er was cute. A red-faced Xuan'er wielding Wuming? Less so.
"So."
Fu Xuan leaned in, her gorgeous face icy. "This is why you dated Firefly in Jarilo?"
Anming: "?"
How did she extract that from his entire spiel about simulations, reincarnation, and talent trees?!
This was targeted.
"This one observed the heavens. After a certain day, Firefly's fortune surged—Five Elements heavy on Water, Romance in full bloom." Fu Xuan's voice could've frozen the Scalegorge. She yanked a dagger from the pillow. Anming's eyes bulged.
"Prone to amorous advances, frequent liaisons. The celestial signs prove you've consummated with that woman!"
She lunged. Anming barely caught her wrist.
"Xuan'er, you sleep with a dagger?!"
"This one was waiting to sever your... your thing!"
"That's not severable!!"
Cold sweat drenched Anming. A split-second slower, and he'd be booking a ticket to the Land of Sisters.
Fu Xuan flailed wildly. "Stupid Anming! This one will purge Shizun's disgraceful disciple! Trash! Playboy!"