The moment Rosalyne saw that figure, she completely lost control.
Without hesitation, she tore off the mask sealing away the witch's power.
The temperature across Mondstadt Square spiked in an instant.
A brilliant fire moth took to the sky, its wings blazing as it soared upward.
Those wings, burning with fierce flames, passed by the Statue of the Anemo Archon and lit up the night sky over the entire city.
Everyone looked up.
Gazing at the beautiful fire moth, they were utterly captivated by the grandeur of its flight.
For a moment… they seemed to forget—
That this very fire moth was the Crimson Witch of Flames, the terror that had once plunged Mondstadt into fear centuries ago.
"So… you were once Rostam, who protected Mondstadt…"
Venti stared into the distance at Rosalyne's departing figure.
At that moment, everything made sense to him.
Earlier, when Lin Mo had been chatting privately with Lisa, Venti couldn't resist eavesdropping with the power of the wind.
When he learned that Lin Mo had more than just the identity of the wandering bard from long ago, he had been shocked.
But once he realized Lin Mo was connected to the Moon Goddess, it all began to feel reasonable.
Even so, he'd already suspected something.
Five hundred years ago, Lin Mo must have shared some hidden bond with Rosalyne.
Otherwise, how could he know her story so well?
How could he know she would one day seek revenge against him?
And when he heard Rosalyne whisper the name "Rostam,"
When she was willing to burn her own life just to reach Lin Mo as quickly as possible—
Venti finally understood.
Lin Mo was Rostam himself.
The Young Wolf.
The Knight Commander who had died protecting Mondstadt.
The very knight whose death had been caused by his own negligence.
His closest friend, from the era of the Lone King of the Tower.
Now…
Guilt flooded Venti's heart.
And only now did he truly grasp the weight of the responsibility borne by a god.
"Hey, bard, are you okay?"
Paimon's concerned voice reached his ears.
Turning around, he saw Lumine and Paimon looking at him with worry.
"I'm fine," Venti said with a faint smile.
Then he turned toward the direction of the tavern and said softly,
"Let's go. Don't let the Knights disturb the reunion of these two lovers."
…
At that moment, Lin Mo watched as Rosalyne flew toward him.
Smiling, he opened his arms.
The next instant—
Thump.
The fiery red figure slammed into him, knocking him to the ground.
"Rostam… Rostam…"
"It really… really is you…"
Rosalyne's voice trembled.
Her gaze was frantic as she stared at Lin Mo's face.
Then she wrapped her arms tightly around him, as if afraid he would disappear again.
If she were still the Rosalyne of old, she would already be in tears.
But she wasn't.
Five hundred years ago, she had cried until her tears ran dry—and became the Crimson Witch of Flames.
Just then, Lin Mo lifted his hand and gently brushed her right cheek.
The reason her mask had always covered the right side of her face—
Was because when she transformed into the Crimson Witch after his death,
Her final tears had turned scalding hot, burning the skin there.
"Does it still hurt?"
That gentle voice—
The voice she had missed for five hundred years—filled her ears once more.
And she could no longer hold back her longing.
She leaned in and kissed him.
…
How long their tenderness lasted beneath the moonlight, no one knew.
Perhaps the familiarity of the kiss gradually calmed Rosalyne's heart.
At last, she could look steadily into Lin Mo's eyes.
"Where… have you been all these years?" she asked softly.
She tried to keep her voice gentle.
But years of authority had left it tinged with cold arrogance.
"I died once," Lin Mo said with a smile.
"But… because I couldn't stop thinking about you."
"At the border between life and death in Mondstadt, I kept looking back, wandering there for five hundred years, unwilling to pass on."
"Perhaps that longing moved the gods."
"So the Moon Goddess descended, preserved my memories, and gave me a chance to be reborn in Mondstadt…"
Once again, the Moon Goddess became Lin Mo's explanation for his return.
"What… you waited for me at the edge of life and death for five hundred years…"
Rosalyne covered her lips.
Her eyes filled with shock, emotion—and guilt.
She hugged him tightly once more.
"I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…"
"I never knew you waited for me for so long…"
"But it's all right… you're back."
"In this life, I won't let us be separated again…"
…
Lin Mo said nothing.
He simply stroked her pale hair.
His hand slid down along the strands, resting against her smooth back.
"Wear a little more next time," he said with a grin.
"You're dressed so lightly—if other men see you, I'll get jealous."
"Any man who dares look twice—I'll tear his eyes out."
Rosalyne's voice suddenly turned icy.
For a moment, she sounded like the haughty Harbinger who looked down on all.
But she quickly realized her tone and softened it again.
"If you don't like it, my love, I'll change when we go back."
Then she hesitated.
"…But tell me—do you dislike how I am now?"
As she spoke, she loosened her hold on him and searched his eyes.
She might look no older than her twenties,
But in truth, she had lived for five hundred years.
She was no longer the shy young girl who once sang freely in Mondstadt Square.
Her cold, noble presence.
Her white hair veiling the right side of her face.
Both her appearance and her aura were nothing like the woman Lin Mo had once loved.
"As long as it's you," Lin Mo said with a smile, nodding,
"I love it all."
His gaze drifted downward despite himself, drawn in by the view.
Heat stirred in his chest.
"Ahem… it's just that you're wearing too little."
"Good thing my willpower's strong—I can barely keep myself in check!"
"Willpower?"
At that moment, Rosalyne's alluring red lips curved into a mischievous smile.
Lin Mo was pushed down again.
"You—!"
Lin Mo's heart skipped.
"My love," she whispered,
"Between us… there's no need for such strong willpower."
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T/N:
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