The village did not sleep that night.
Lanterns burned low, shadows stretching too long against the walls. Doors remained ajar, as though closing them would invite something worse.
Ling Yue sat on the steps outside her home, knees drawn to her chest, watching the empty road.
She had not told Ye where she was going.
She knew he would find her anyway.
He always did.
Footsteps approached quietly.
She didn't turn.
"You shouldn't be alone," Ye said.
"I'm not," she replied. "You're here."
He stopped a short distance away.
Too far.
She patted the step beside her without looking. "Sit."
After a moment's hesitation, he did.
The silence between them was thick, pressing, filled with everything they had not said all day.
---
"They're coming back," Ling Yue said softly.
"Yes."
"When?"
"Soon."
She nodded, as if she had expected no other answer. "And when they do… what happens to you?"
Ye did not respond.
She turned then, anger and fear flaring together. "Don't do that. Don't protect me with silence."
He met her gaze.
"You survive," he said.
Her breath caught. "That wasn't my question."
He swallowed.
"For me," he continued carefully, "there are only two paths left."
She waited, heart pounding.
"One," he said, "is to leave before they force the issue."
"And the other?"
"To stay until they do."
Her hands curled into fists. "And which one are you choosing?"
Ye looked at her like he had that first night beneath the willow — steady, unflinching, unbearably gentle.
"The one where you don't get hurt," he said.
---
She stood abruptly.
"No," she said. "I don't accept that."
He rose as well. "Ling Yue—"
"You don't get to decide my pain for me," she said, voice trembling. "You don't get to love me like this and then disappear."
The word landed between them.
Disappear.
Ye's composure cracked.
"I never meant—"
"Then what did you mean?" she demanded. "What was the point of staying? Of holding me? Of kissing me?"
His hands clenched at his sides.
"Because," he said quietly, "I wanted at least one memory that wasn't borrowed from fate."
Her eyes stung.
"Then let me be part of the choice," she whispered. "Not the reason you leave."
He stepped closer.
So close she could feel the warmth of him, the familiar steadiness that had become her anchor.
"I can't," he said. "Because if I do, I won't be able to do what comes next."
Her voice broke. "And what is that?"
He lifted his hand, hesitated — then gently cupped her face, thumb brushing away the tear she hadn't realized had fallen.
"To end this before it destroys you."
She shook her head, pressing her forehead against his chest.
"You're already destroying me," she whispered.
Ye closed his eyes.
For a moment — just one — he let himself hold her fully, arms wrapped around her, chin resting against her hair.
He bent and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.
Not desperate.
Not hurried.
A blessing.
A goodbye disguised as comfort.
"Whatever happens," he murmured, "remember this."
She clutched his robe. "Remember what?"
"That I was happy," he said. "Because of you."
Her heart shattered quietly.
---
Before dawn, Ye stood alone by the river.
The water had gone completely still now, reflecting the sky with unnatural clarity. The air burned in his lungs. Every breath felt borrowed.
He knelt, one hand pressed to the earth, steadying himself.
The world would not allow him much longer.
Behind him, unseen, Ling Yue watched from the shadows, fear blooming fully at last.
For the first time, she understood the shape of what was coming.
And for the first time…
She refused to accept it.