Zhao Kuan moved without hesitation.
His hand slammed into Lin Yue's chest.
The world shattered.
Lin Yue's eyes widened in pure shock as his feet left solid ground. For a heartbeat, time stopped—wind roaring in his ears, sky spinning violently above him.
No—
He hadn't been ready.
As his body tipped backward over the cliff's edge, terror finally broke through the calm he had worn for so long.
"Do I really need to die a second time…?" he whispered, voice torn apart by the wind.
"Fuck my life…"
Oh god why give life if you want again..
i find happiness now ..
The mountain swallowed him.
His fingers clawed at empty air, nails scraping uselessly against stone. Gravity tore him downward, the forest rushing up in a blur of green and gray. The cold wind screamed past him like a funeral cry.
Above the cliff, Zhao Kuan stood frozen for a second—then laughter burst from his throat.
He did it.
Lin Yue was gone.
Zhao Kuan's chest heaved as satisfaction flooded him, dark and intoxicating. He looked down into the abyss, eyes shining with triumph.
"Goodbye," he murmured. "You never belonged here."
Behind him, wings cut sharply through the air.
Zhao Kuan turned.
Feng Lihan landed hard at the cliff's edge, crimson feathers flaring wide. His gaze swept the clearing instantly—too fast, too sharp.
"Lin Yue?" he called.
Silence answered.
Fear punched through his chest like a blade.
His eyes followed the disturbed earth… the scuffed stone… the broken branches leading straight to the edge.
Then—
A sound.
A faint, distant cry swallowed by the wind.
Feng Lihan rushed forward just in time to see it.
A falling body.
Black hair. Familiar clothes. Arms flailing desperately against the sky.
"LIN YUE—!"
The scream tore from Feng Lihan's throat, raw and broken. He lunged forward, wings beating violently—but he was too far.
Too late.
Lin Yue disappeared into the depths below.
The world went silent.
Feng Lihan stood frozen at the edge of the cliff, chest burning, eyes wide with disbelief. His knees nearly buckled.
"No…" he whispered. "No—no—no…"
Something inside him snapped.
He turned slowly.
Zhao Kuan was smiling.
Not hiding it. Not pretending.
That smile was the last thing Zhao Kuan ever wore as a free man.
"You—" Feng Lihan's voice shook, every word soaked in bloodlust. "What did you do?"
Zhao Kuan laughed softly. "He slipped."
The air around Feng Lihan changed.
The wind screamed louder. His crimson wings unfurled fully, feathers standing sharp as blades. His eyes burned—not with grief alone, but with pure, murderous fury.
"You touched him," Feng Lihan said quietly.
Zhao Kuan took a step back for the first time.
"You killed him."
The mountain trembled.
Below the cliff, far beneath shattered branches and jagged stone, Lin Yue's body continued to fall—consciousness flickering, pain tearing through him—
But fate was not finished yet.
Not again.
Not so easily.