Ling Yue did not step away from the fate threads.
She knew she should have.
She knew Heaven was watching.
But the moment the official spoke — "we will have to assume you remember" — something inside her settled instead of panicked.
"No," she said quietly. "You will have to assume I feel."
The threads shimmered.
Not brighter.
Closer.
---
The lotus bud in her hands burned — not painfully, but insistently. Heat spread into her palms, then her wrists, then her chest, until breathing felt like pulling light into her lungs.
Ling Yue staggered back a step.
"This isn't—" she whispered. "This isn't memory."
The air thickened.
The threads began to hum.
---
Far beyond Heaven, beyond exile, beyond form—
Ye froze.
The pull slammed into him without warning, sharp enough to steal breath.
Not pain.
Recognition.
"…Ling Yue," he breathed.
Shadow surged instinctively, folding inward instead of outward. The broken realm around him trembled as something ancient inside his soul responded.
Fate Resonance.
The thing Heaven swore could not exist.
---
Ling Yue gasped as warmth enveloped her.
Not around her body.
Through it.
Her fingers curled reflexively around nothing — and met resistance.
She froze.
This wasn't imagination.
This wasn't memory.
This was touch.
"…Ye," she whispered.
The name left her lips before fear could stop it.
---
Across realms, Ye felt it.
Small fingers tightening around his hand — not solid, not whole, but unmistakably hers. The contact wavered, like light reflected on water.
He did not pull her closer.
He didn't dare.
"Don't," he murmured, voice rough. "If you hold too tightly—"
"I know," she replied softly.
How did she know?
Neither of them asked.
---
The world narrowed to sensation.
Her thumb brushed across his knuckles.
His breath hitched.
She felt it.
The awareness startled them both.
"Oh," she breathed. "You can feel me."
"Yes."
The word was barely sound.
---
For a heartbeat — just one — Ye leaned forward.
Ling Yue lifted her face instinctively.
Their foreheads touched.
Not flesh.
Not illusion.
Something truer.
The contact sent a ripple through the threads, light flaring dangerously bright.
Warnings echoed distantly — voices, seals activating, Heaven reacting.
Ye pulled back first.
Always first.
"It's not time," he said urgently. "They're watching."
Ling Yue nodded, tears blurring her vision.
"I know," she whispered. "But… it's really you."
His grip tightened briefly — the faintest squeeze of her hand.
"Always," he said.
---
The warmth shattered.
The threads recoiled.
Ling Yue stumbled backward as the pressure vanished, lotus petals snapping shut around the fading glow.
She fell to her knees, breath ragged, heart pounding.
Footsteps thundered closer.
"Ling Yue!" an official shouted. "Step away from the weave—now!"
She looked down at her hands.
They were shaking.
But warm.
---
Far away, Ye sank to one knee, shadow trembling around him.
Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth.
He wiped it away, laughing softly under his breath.
"…So they really couldn't erase us," he murmured.
The pull faded.
But the certainty remained.
---
Above them all, Heaven reeled.
Fate Resonance had awakened.
And it was mutual.