Qi Yue’an gently placed the ancient longsword she held onto the ground. The faint crimson glow of the flames lingering on the blade mirrored the silver in her eyes. She looked at Qi Wei, getting straight to the point.
“Qi Wei, what are those ruins outside the city, and what is this sword?”
Qi Wei turned, her golden eyes falling upon the sword. Her tone was calm, yet imbued with a sense of distant antiquity.
“As far back as I can remember, this place has been nothing but ruins. After An City stabilized, our sisters explored it out of curiosity, only to learn that these ruins might be the remnants of a lost civilization.
“Most of the ‘residents’ within are fragmented souls incapable of communication. Occasionally, one might speak, but they only murmur broken gibberish.”
She walked to the sword, extending her hand, but stopped an inch from the blade. It forcefully repelled Qi Wei’s approach. As she drew within an inch or so, it was as if she encountered an invisible barrier, preventing her from getting any closer.
“This sword is the most striking presence within the ruins, containing a magic so potent it makes one’s heart tremble, completely unlike the barren desolation surrounding it. However, whenever we approach, we are repelled by the power it emits. That flame seems specifically targeted at the ‘sins’ within a soul, proving particularly hostile to spiritual entities like us, remnants of reincarnation. Even I find it difficult to touch without exerting my full strength. Thus, it has remained there, untouched, until your arrival.”
A thought stirred within Qi Yue’an. She recounted the story of meeting Youguangyu in detail.
“I encountered a magical girl’s lingering shadow who called herself ‘Fate of the Prison Warden.’ Her name is Youguangyu, and she told me this sword is her legacy. She also said… our world might change because of it.”
“Youguangyu…” Qi Wei repeated the name softly, a complex glint flashing in her golden eyes. “From a previous civilization? Their power system is entirely different from our ‘lineage.’ Although the essence is the same, they are currently completely incompatible. We always name ourselves after the flaws and sins within our hearts, while they seem to describe the abilities themselves. I never imagined this sword would be wielded by you; it’s the first time I’ve witnessed such a thing in all my years.”
She, too, seemed rather curious about this.
“Release a bit of its power; let me see.”
Qi Yue’an nodded, grasping the ancient sword. It seemed to have formed a telepathic connection with her. As a thought arose in her mind, it automatically drew and converted magic. Subsequently, a crimson flame ignited in her palm.
“I’ve found that its method of control is identical to my own magic. Rather than a weapon, it feels more like a soul gem, an extension of my very being.”
In her other hand, a purple flame of envy materialized. The two distinct flames, like a deity’s power and a demon’s curse, seemed to represent opposing forces. Yet, instead of clashing, they existed in a peculiar harmony.
As she pondered, it struck her that she had been there for nearly a day. She needed to leave as quickly as possible, which meant she had to ask more urgent questions now.
“Do you have clear memories regarding the End? I heard from Lin Xiao that countless distorted spaces, demon-folk, and holy artifacts would appear, only for everything to suddenly be annihilated in the end.”
At the mention of this topic, Qi Wei’s expression grew serious. She walked to the window, gazing at the eternally pale sky.
“My memories are quite hazy. After all, I was merely an ‘observer,’ and the sisters who actually experienced the End largely have fragmented recollections. We only know that at the very last moment, some supreme will, or perhaps a slumbering god, would suddenly awaken. It would first purify all anomalies, then abruptly wither and begin… then, as this planet fractured, it would vanish without a trace.”
She paused, seemingly weighing her words.
“As for why it withered… I have a theory, but I cannot be certain yet. It reminds me of an allegory depicted in a picture book found in the ruins: there was a chicken farmer who fed the fattest chicken every day, even improving the breed over generations.”
Qi Yue’an was stunned. A chicken farm? What did that have to do with the End? Just as she was about to press for more, Qi Wei abruptly changed the subject, as if on the verge of touching upon something taboo.
“Very well, let’s leave this topic for now. Do you have any other questions?”
Qi Yue’an hesitated for a moment, then voiced the worry in her heart.
“Qi Yue… will she follow me out after I leave? I know she means no harm, but…”
She left the sentence unfinished, but the unease in her eyes conveyed everything. It was a fear of being replaced, a subtle jealousy of that ‘better self.’
Qi Wei looked at her, then suddenly offered a faint smile. The smile was as gentle as a spring shadow.
“You needn’t worry. Qi Yue and Qi An have never been about one replacing the other. You are one in spirit, two facets of the same soul.”
She walked up to Qi Yue’an, gently stroking her hair. Her movements were as tender as if she were handling the most precious treasure.
“I have seen countless ‘Qi Yues’… myself included, of course. All of them deeply cherished the existence of ‘Qi An.’ Their greatest regret was being unable to grant ‘Qi An’ happiness, forced only to watch her quietly fade away at the story’s beginning.”
“And you,” Qi Wei’s golden eyes sparkled with a faint light, a mix of reluctance to part with someone important and a sense of relief. “You miraculously survived with ‘Qi An’s’ consciousness and became the protagonist of this story. This, in itself, represents a miracle, a future far better than any before.”
“As Xiyin always says, as ‘she’ says, you are the only one who truly deserves happiness. Do not trap yourself in the night, never to emerge again.”
Qi Yue’an’s heart gave a violent lurch, her eyes growing slightly warm. Those ‘Qi Yues’ had never sought to replace her; rather, they had always cherished and respected her. Even living in her stead was merely an act of fulfilling Qi Yue’an’s wishes.
She recalled Qi Yue’s perpetually cheerful demeanor. She remembered the look in her eyes when she said, “I’ll take care of it,” in the church. The lingering cloud of doubt in her heart finally dissipated.
“So, from now on, live for yourself, alright? Don’t be anyone’s shadow anymore; you are the sole protagonist.”
Just then, she felt her consciousness begin to blur. A force from outside seemed to be pulling at her. Qi Wei noticed it too, speaking softly.
“It’s getting late. He’s waiting for you to return, and seems quite anxious.”
Qi Yue’an nodded, taking one last look at the silent, warm sanctuary. She glanced at Qi Wei’s gentle smile. She walked to the doorway, looking back. There, Qi Wei stood amidst the interplay of light and shadow, waving farewell to her.
She took a deep breath, then turned and exited the sanctuary.
****
On the streets of An City, the ‘Qi Yue’ans’ who had fought alongside her now all looked her way. Some waved, others smiled, their eyes filled with blessings and anticipation.
Qi Yue appeared from seemingly nowhere, running to her side with a cheerful grin.
“Let’s go.”
Qi Yue’an smiled, a genuine smile this time, one that originated deep within her heart. She waved to everyone, and her consciousness completely receded into darkness.
When she opened her eyes again, the familiar ceiling of Dawn Star Hall came into view. Lin Xiao sat by the bed, his eyes brimming with worry. Seeing her awaken, he immediately grasped her hand.
“You’re finally awake! You were in there for almost a day; I thought…”
The lingering fear in his tone was palpable. Qi Yue’an looked at him, squeezing his hand in return.
“I’m fine. I even gained some good things and had a few questions answered.”
She thought of the ancient longsword, the sisters of An City, and Qi Wei’s words. The confusion and unease in her heart gradually receded.
She sat up, looking at the night sky that had fallen outside the window.
“It’s getting late, Xiao. Let’s sleep together.”
Lin Xiao froze, seemingly unprepared for such a sudden remark from her. But then, the worry in his eyes softened into tenderness. He gently ruffled her hair, his voice low and soft.
“Alright. You’ve had a long day too.”
As night fell, Qi Yue’an once again refused to have separate rooms. She also disallowed sleeping on the floor, insisting instead that they sleep together.
In truth, Lin Xiao didn’t dislike these moments. Even though they had previously remained silent with unspoken barriers between them, and the atmosphere had always been rather stifling, falling asleep feeling her body warmth and seeing her adorable face still brought a rare sense of peace to him, who had always suffered from insomnia.
However, ever since what happened in the bath that day, he had come to realize that the other person was not just someone he had always wanted to save, someone he had finally reunited with after much difficulty, but also a young girl with a graceful figure and an endearing face.
‘I want Xiao to like me.’
He had just finished showering and was lying in bed. Listening to the sound of Qi Yue’an showering in the room’s en-suite bathroom, that sentence reappeared in his mind.
People don’t necessarily become like old men in their mentality just because time passes; it also relates to their experiences. In the past, he had always been busy with various matters, and the ‘Qi Yue’ans’ from other worlds were either outright enemies or merely companions. This current situation was a first for him.
Lost in thought, he closed his eyes. There were still many things to do tomorrow, so he absolutely had to sleep early tonight. However, in his drowsy state, he heard the sound from the bathroom cease.
He heard a rustling sound. Then, a warm, small creature, carrying a refreshing fragrance, burrowed into his embrace.
Lin Xiao suddenly became more alert. He saw Qi Yue’an rubbing against his chest, her face seemingly alight with a hint of pleasure.
Fresh from her bath, she was not wearing clothes, while he was only in simple sleepwear. Even though he tried his best not to look, her somewhat hot breath and the sensation, like a cherry on a cake, still made his body tense.
“Um… An, you should really put on some clothes before sleeping… or you’ll catch a cold.”
He offered a clumsy excuse. Bending his waist, he recoiled slightly, avoiding that truly tantalizing touch.
“…Are you cold, Xiao?”
Seeing his curled-up movement, Qi Yue’an spoke softly, her voice tinged with worry.
“Uh, not really, actually…”
He mumbled awkwardly, not daring to look at Qi Yue’an’s face. However, her face at that moment was not the usual innocent expression he imagined, but rather an irrepressible smile.
She leaned forward slightly, finally touching the ‘weapon’ he had tried to conceal. She realized that what she had said that day about him being ‘hard’ was not a lie. She had initially thought he felt nothing for her, assuming he had experienced countless ‘Qi Yue’ans’ and become accustomed to it. But one day, she discovered that his calmness was merely a facade. She had worried it was her soul that repelled him, causing his physical rejection. However, after confirming he truly had no prior experience, those feelings of melancholy and discontent vanished. Reflecting on this, she smiled, looking at his finally flustered expression, and a spark of interest he had never evoked before ignited within her.
“But, Xiao, I’m a little cold.”
Her voice was soft and sweet, carrying a pleading tone. This, ironically, shattered his superficial composure even further, and the thrumming in his chest became impossible to suppress.
“I…”
Lin Xiao tried to explain or say something more, but her actions were swifter. She quickly pressed herself against him again, resting her head in the crook of his arm and wrapping her arms tightly around him.
“Xiao, you’re surprisingly pure.”
She whispered, subtly rubbing her thigh. Lin Xiao, stripped of his ‘weapon,’ finally realized she wasn’t doing this unconsciously at all; she was doing it completely on purpose.
Yet, before he could react, the victorious Qi Yue’an had already closed her eyes, her breathing even, as if she had fallen asleep, utterly devoid of any worry.