Before Lan Xiyue could answer, the air in the courtyard shifted.
It was subtle at first — a tremor under the snow, a faint hum in the wind — but then the hum deepened into a thrumming pulse that rattled the torches in their brackets.
Feng Lian's smile vanished.
Feng Lian: "…That's not possible."
Xiyue already knew what it was. His bond mark burned against his skin, heat flaring like molten metal.
Xiyue: "Ruo Han."
A shockwave of qi burst through the mountains, sending snow sliding from the tiled roofs. The pulse wasn't just strong — it was unstable, spiraling wildly between icy suppression and searing release.
Feng Lian's voice was clipped, urgent.
Feng Lian: "If it spikes again, it'll burn through his meridians."
Xiyue: "Then move."
Without another word, they were in motion — two blurs cutting through the night. Crimson and white light streaked through the falling snow as they raced down the mountain paths toward the source.
The pull of the bond was almost physical now, dragging Xiyue forward. But it wasn't his pull alone. Beside him, Feng Lian's qi resonated faintly — as if the two of them were running toward the same star.
At the far edge of the Scarlet Sun territory, they found him.
Ruo Han knelt in the snow, hands pressed to the ground as cracks of pale light splintered outward from his palms. His breath came in ragged clouds, and frost bloomed along the edges of his hair.
The moment Xiyue stepped forward, Feng Lian did too — both reaching him at once.
Ruo Han's gaze lifted, dazed and pained, and in the reflection of his eyes they saw it — the shadow of a second moon, hanging faintly in the night sky above them.