A week passed.
The forest had become her sanctuary.
Each morning, Shen Yueli woke to the crisp air and the lullaby of birdsong, no longer startled by nightmares. The pain of rejection still lingered— but it no longer ruled her. Di Yan had taught her how to fight, how to breathe through pain, how to survive.
But more than that, he gave her something she hadn't realized she'd lost:
Silence.
Not the silence of heartbreak, but the kind that grows in sacred places, where old wounds are allowed to exhale. The kind that allowed her to hear herself again.
She sat on a rock by the stream, weaving a bracelet from dried moon vine. Its threads shimmered faintly in the sunlight, glowing silver with each twist of her fingers.
" You're improving," Di Yan said behind her.
Yueli looked up and smiled faintly. " At weaving?"
" At being."
She laughed, and it felt real this time.
" Did you always talk in riddles?" she asked playfully.
" Only when the truth sounds better that way."
She shook her head and turned back to her bracelet. " You know, I forgot how it felt to laugh."
He sat beside her, his silver hair loose, falling over one shoulder like a cascade of starlight.
" That's what they do to us," he said.
" When bonds break. They take our breath… our joy… our voice."
Her hands stilled on the bracelet.
" I thought the bond made me strong," she said quietly. " But now I wonder if it just made me dependent."
Di Yan tilted his head, considering her words.
" Mate bonds amplify what's already inside us. They don't create it."
Yueli let that sit for a moment. Her child kicked gently, and she laid her hand over her belly. " Then maybe… this is who I really am."
—
That night, she woke suddenly.
The cave was still. The fire had burned low, casting flickering shadows on the stone walls. Di Yan was gone. She sat up slowly, heart racing. Something was… different. In the center of her chest, just above her heart, a searing heat pulsed.
She pulled back the fabric of her robe and gasped.
The crescent- shaped mark had deepened— no longer faint silver, but glowing with pale moonlight. The pain was sharp, like something sacred craving itself into her skin.
" Di Yan!" She called, struggling to her feet.
Before she could take a step, the cave was flooded with light.
Not firelight. Not moonlight.
But something ancient.
The air grew heavy with power. Wind howled outside, though the trees did not move. She stumbled backward and fell to her knees, breath caught in her throat.
And then— she saw her.
A woman made of light. Her form was ethereal, long robes flowing like mist, hair like rivers of silver, eyes glowing white. She hovered above the ground, radiating both warmth and judgment.
The Moon Goddess.
Yueli's heart hammered. She bowed her head, trembling.
" My lady…"
The goddess's voice echoed in her bones.
" You carry pain, daughter of light."
Yueli looked up, tears in her eyes. " I was rejected. I lost my place. My purpose."
" You were never meant to be caged by that bond."
Yueli flinched. " But… I thought he was fated. I thought love was supposed to heal."
" Love does not shackle," the goddess replied. " And fate is not always kind."
The mark on Yueli's chest flared. She cried out.
The goddess stepped closer. " The child you carry is not a mistake. It is a beginning. And you… Shen Yueli… you have been chosen."
" Chosen…?" she whispered.
The goddess reached out, touching her forehead. " A bloodline thought forgotten stirs with you. The blood of the Lunar Seers. You are one of us."
Yueli gasped as a rush of images flooded her mind— visions of ancient temples, glowing eyes, moonstones, and women wrapped in silver chanting beneath twin moons.
" I don't understand," she whispered.
" You will. In time." The goddess began to fade. " But beware, daughter. The bond you lost was not the last. And not all who approached will bring peace."
The light vanished.
Yueli collapsed, gasping.
A moment later, Di Yan burst into the cave, blade drawn, eyes wild. " I felt the surge— what happened?"
Yueli could barely speak. " She came. The Moon Goddess."
Di Yan knelt beside her, eyes scanning the mark now glowing like a star.
" You've been marked," he whispered.
" You're a seer."
She nodded slowly. " She said I'm chosen. That my child is part of something greater."
Di Yan's expression shifted. Worry. Awe.
Then… something else.
" I need to protect you," he said.
She frowned. " Why?"
He didn't answer. Instead, he stood slowly, eyes narrowing at the mouth of the cave.
" Because others will come now," he murmured. " And not all of them will want you alive."
—
The next days were no longer peaceful.
Di Yan became tense. He rarely left her side. They moved deeper into the forest, to sacred ruins hidden even from the Northern Clans. At night, Yueli heard howling— not wolves, but creatures far worse. She felt watched. Hunted.
She began to train harder.
Di Yan taught her how to shape her aura, how to sense danger in the wind. Her seer powers began to awaken— flashes of vision, flickers of time unraveling like threads. She dreamt of twin moons eclipsing, of silver blood running through stone altars.
And through it all, Di Yan remained beside her.
One evening, as they sat by a new fire, Yueli turned to him.
" You knew about the Lunar Seers," she said.
He hesitated. " Yes."
" Why didn't you tell me?"
" Because I needed you to find it on your own."
She studied him. " You said the bond I lost wasn't the last. Were you talking about… us?"
Di Yan's jaw tightened.
" I don't know what fate intends. But I know I care for you."
She stared at him, the fire dancing in her eyes. " I don't want another bond. Not yet."
" You don't have to choose anything right now," he said softly. " But I'll stay. As your protector. As your friend."
Yueli leaned her head on his shoulder.
For now, that was enough.
But in the darkness beyond the trees, something stirred.
And fate, ever cruel, ever watching, prepared its next move.