Inside the inn room of Dusk Gathering Town.
Xue Yin submerged her slender body into the bathtub.
The hot water rose past her collarbones, past her shoulder blades.
Her silver hair spread across the water’s surface, like moonlight shattered into pieces, floating and gently swaying with the ripples.
She leaned against the tub wall, the back of her head resting on the wood, and closed her eyes.
A sigh of contentment escaped from deep within her throat.
“Ah, this is so comfortable.”
The water was slightly scalding, enough to tint her skin a faint pink, yet it seemed to squeeze the exhaustion from days of travel out from the very marrow of her bones.
Her nerves, usually taut, and every inch of her skin relaxed in the water, making her feel light and airy.
Xue Yin loved taking baths.
Every time she soaked, it lifted her mood, as if she were being pieced back together, made whole again.
She didn’t want to move, didn’t want to open her eyes, didn’t want to think.
She just wanted to soak like this.
But her mind refused to cooperate.
It insisted on pushing someone’s shadow into her thoughts right at this moment.
“If Master likes it, I can do it every day.”
—Hah? Who wants to do it with you every day!
Xue Yin’s eyes snapped open, her cheeks burning.
She couldn’t help but flail her arms, splashing a huge wave of water.
The sound was especially loud in the quiet bathroom.
Drops landed on her shoulders, her face, her silver hair floating on the water.
She froze for a moment, looking at her own wet arm, suddenly realizing she was flailing around in the bathtub like an idiot.
It was so embarrassing.
If that guy saw this, her master’s dignity would vanish completely, and she’d have no choice but to fall on her sword and return to the heavens.
She buried her face in the water, gurgle gurgle, letting a few bubbles rise.
The water was hot, but her face was hotter, burning so much her scalp tingled.
She held her breath for a while, but when she couldn’t take it anymore, she jerked her head up, gasping for air.
Water droplets flew everywhere, hitting the stone floor with a fine, scattered sound.
“Idiot,” she cursed at the air, her voice muffled by the steam from the hot water, soft and lacking any real threat.
After cursing, she felt a pang of guilt.
He wasn’t even here.
Who was she cursing for?
She leaned back against the tub wall again, closing her eyes, trying to slow her racing heart.
But that person still wouldn’t leave.
He remained in her mind, just in a different scene—transformed into the version of him who had leaned close to her ear at the street corner in Dusk Gathering Town.
“Before, I would only listen to Master’s words. Now, I want to understand Master’s heart more.”
His breath had brushed against the shell of her ear, ticklish, like the very tip of a feather gently sweeping across.
She had turned and walked away then, her steps faltering for a beat, just so he wouldn’t see her fluster.
“Cheesy pick-up lines, so cheesy.”
Xue Yin raised a hand to cover her ears, as if that could block those words out.
But it didn’t work.
The pointed ears of a High Elf grew more sensitive the more they were touched.
The moment her fingertips grazed her ear, a tingling numbness shot down her neck, making her whole body shudder.
She yanked her hand back as if shocked, biting her lower lip in annoyance.
—Xue Yin, oh Xue Yin, you’re just torturing yourself.
She took a deep breath, trying to chase those images away, but they came flooding in like a tide, wave after wave.
In the Crying Bone Church, when he cried out “It hurts,” his voice shattered into pieces, each one stabbing into her heart.
When he said “Master, you smell nice,” his body was so weak it was pitiful, yet he forced out those words.
She had been flustered and angry then, hitting his head with the broken staff.
But looking back, he was actually trying to lighten the mood, to make her worry less.
“Is this what they call being connected at heart?” she murmured to herself, her voice as light as a sigh.
“I think I’m beyond saving.”
Her mind was completely filled with that person, impossible to shake off, as if carved into her bones.
She sighed, but the corner of her mouth betrayed her, curving upward against her will.
She could put on an act, but she couldn’t deceive her own heart.
She gave up, stopped struggling, and let those images drift before her eyes.
No one was watching, after all.
It was just her.
The water gradually cooled.
“My perfectly good, relaxing time is completely ruined.”
She gritted her teeth, but there was no real anger in her voice, mostly helplessness and a touch of sweetness she herself hadn’t noticed.
Xue Yin rose from the bathtub.
Water droplets trickled down her calves, splattering softly on the stone floor.
She grabbed a towel and dried herself, her movements slow, as if reluctant to leave the hot water.
The towel passed over her shoulders, her arms, her abdomen.
The Demon Rose emitted a faint pink glow.
Her skin, flushed from the hot bath, felt scalding to the touch, smooth and soft like a baby’s.
After using the inn’s magical hair dryer to dry her silver hair, she slipped into her pajamas and pushed open the bathroom door.
Cold air hit her face, making her shiver.
The bed was already made, the bedding snow-white, neatly folded, the pillows plump and full.
The small candle lamp on the bedside table flickered with a warm yellow light, dyeing the entire room in gentle hues.
She lifted the covers and slipped in.
The mattress was so soft her whole body sank into it, as if held by a pair of gentle hands.
“A soft, fluffy bed, I like it.”
She buried her face in the pillow, nuzzling it, finding the most comfortable angle.
The pillow only smelled of soap, clean and light, but it didn’t carry his scent.
A sudden sense of loss washed over her, and she was immediately startled by that feeling.
Since when had she started wanting him by her side even when sleeping?
“Sleep,” she commanded herself, her voice muffled by the covers.
“Don’t think about him anymore.”
She closed her eyes.
He was still there, palm facing up, fingers slightly curled, as if waiting for her to place her hand in his.
“Master.”
She didn’t respond.
“Master.”
Stop calling.
“Master, goodnight.”
Xue Yin’s eyes snapped open.
The candle had gone out, she didn’t know when.
Only a wisp of gray smoke rose from the wick, curling and dissipating in the air.
Moonlight leaked through a gap in the curtains, a thin line falling on the foot of the bed, like a quiet guardian.
The room was very quiet, only the sound of her own heartbeat, steady and slow.
She pulled her hand out from under the covers, clutching the corner of the pillow, as if clutching the hem of someone’s clothes.
“Goodnight,” she said to the air, her voice so soft it was almost inaudible.
Then she closed her eyes.
This time, she didn’t open them again.
Xue Yin fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
The next morning, the mist over Dusk Gathering Town hadn’t yet fully dispersed, a gray-white veil shrouding the dirt road outside town.
The three of them were already walking, their footprints leaving shallow marks in the damp earth, dew wetting the tips of their shoes.
For once, Xue Yin wasn’t walking at the front.
She walked side-by-side with Ailia, their heads close together, her silver hair almost brushing Ailia’s shoulder.
“Are you sure?” Ailia asked in a low voice, a faint, knowing smile playing on her lips.
“Mm,” Xue Yin’s voice was hushed, as if afraid the wind would steal it away.
“I saw you make that for Ryan before.”
She glanced back quickly, confirming Jin wasn’t following too closely.
Jin was a few steps behind, looking down to check the Heart-Binding Chain on his left wrist, not paying them any attention.
Xue Yin immediately turned back, the tips of her ears slightly red.
Ailia’s smile widened a little. “So you want to…?”
“That thing,” Xue Yin cut her off, her voice dropping even lower.
“Teach me. How long? And how do you finish it off?”
Ailia lowered her voice further, patiently explaining, her fingers gesturing in the air.
Xue Yin listened intently, nodding from time to time, occasionally asking a follow-up question, her brow slightly furrowed.
Jin quickened his pace, trying to get closer to listen.
“Master, what are you two talking about?”
“Nothing, and you’re not allowed to listen!” Xue Yin didn’t even turn her head, using her master’s authority to command him.
“Ailia?” Jin turned to ask Ailia.
“Girl talk,” Ailia smiled, deflecting him unhurriedly.
“Don’t pry. You’ll find out when it’s time for you to know.”
Jin tactfully fell back, but he still pricked up his ears curiously.
A few fragmented words drifted to him on the wind—
“…too cold…”
“…intertwined…”
“…silver thread…”
“…gift…”
His footsteps paused for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly.
Too cold? Intertwined? Silver thread?
What was Master discussing with Ailia? Had Master finally come to her senses?
Jin blushed, letting his imagination run wild for a moment, before finally shaking his head to dismiss his own thoughts and quickening his pace to catch up.
Xue Yin had already resumed her usual serious demeanor, walking at the front, her silver hair gleaming faintly in the morning light.
Ailia walked beside her, a smile still lingering on her lips that she hadn’t quite managed to hide, glancing back at Jin from time to time.
Jin watched their backs, feeling something was off, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.
But looking at Master’s back made Jin feel at ease.
He had met Master at the most lost point in his life.
Her bright eyes and inherently kind nature made it increasingly impossible for him to look away.
Back then, he had thought, if he could walk by Master’s side, look at the same goals as her, move forward in the same direction…
Then maybe even someone like him, who once had nothing, could come to possess something again…