The two mice ran back and forth, exhausted to the point of collapse in Yin City.
The streets were crumbling, but the number of ghosts in this city hadn’t diminished a single one.
Heads suddenly erged from rice jars, smiling at them, while toothless spirits by the fetid gutters lost teeth and desperately searched to retrieve them; famine ghosts, their stomachs mountainous, shuffled through the alleys. Along the way, endless encounters with demons and phantoms left the mice scurrying back and forth, unsure of where they had even ended up.
A hanging ghost appeared from nowhere, baring claws and fangs at them, its long hair wrapping tightly around its neck before it dangled itself down from a clothes rod.
But upon spotting the female mouse in her Taoist robes, the hanging ghost imdiately sprang back up, clawing at its hair as it frantically climbed upward.
Among the chorus of eerie, squeaky laughter, Chen Yi and Yin Weiyin had no idea how far they’d run.
After quite so ti, they climbed up to a battered, ruined high building. Yin Weiyin flew ahead first, transforming midair as smoke flooded the scene, taking a seat atop the jagged remains of the fractured structure.
Chen Yi followed closely behind, riding the wind toward her.
But as soon as Yin Weiyin raised a hand, she intercepted him mid-flight, catching him firmly in her palm.
Instinctively, Chen Yi began flailing and slapping at her hand, struggling to free himself, but Yin Weiyin rely pulled him closer and closer. The female crown, now back in her human form, lood vast like a titanic being, her once-delicate lips now parted just slightly, resembling the bloodthirsty maw of a beast.
Chen Yi startled to his senses and ceased struggling, instead staring silently at her.
"Aren’t you going to turn back?" Chen Yi coughed twice, asking flatly.
The female crown shook her head. "Isn’t this fine?"
"Fine how?"
Yin Weiyin pondered briefly, then replied softly, "Do you think you look frightening with this appearance?"
Chen Yi froze for a mont, then realized—she had always been afraid of him, almost perpetually uneasy in his presence.
Seeing his startled expression, Yin Weiyin couldn’t help but curl her lips into a smile.
This dumbfounded little mouse was adorable.
If only he could stay this way forever...
Noticing her smile, Chen Yi pushed his head forward slightly, looking sowhat indignant.
Relenting, Yin Weiyin gently set him down, hesitating briefly before suggesting:
"Could you call your kind sister?"
"Yin Weiyin!"
The female crown flinched, her eyes darting nervously as his tone grew heavier. She finally released him.
Muttering a spell, she ford hand seals and recited, "Transform."
As the word fell, smoke surged, and Chen Yi reverted to his human form. Without hesitation, he grabbed her from behind, pulling her into an embrace.
Yin Weiyin drew a sharp breath, her heart pounding with frantic unrest. Her face grew pale, trembling briefly before recovering enough to utter in a quivering voice, "...Kind brother."
Chen Yi smirked slightly, slowly looping his arms around her waist, resting his chin upon her shoulder.
The crumbling edge of the building revealed jagged teeth-like shards while a gentle breeze passed through the shattered streets, brushing over the pale faces of demons and phantoms, weaving among the ruins. Far away, a green ceremonial flag still fluttered, like ghostly flas dancing in the air. As the wind curled around them, it seed to pause montarily.
Chen Yi held her tenderly, feeling a deep, inexplicable serenity in his chest. It was as if he had scaled the highest peaks, leaving behind all grief, hardship, and danger. In this mont, he just wanted to pause, holding this person close and gazing out toward the dimming sunset.
He didn’t know what thoughts echoed in the mind of the person in his arms.
The female crown, as always, couldn’t untangle her emotions. Her delicate back leaned into his embrace, and as peace settled in, countless emotions swirled within her heart. Distracted, she surveyed the ghostly cityscape. She opened her lips slightly, but no words ca.
Her love was unrelenting, rarely satisfied—a trait that both endeared her to Chen Yi and frustrated him. Waves of feeling coursed through her mind as Yin Weiyin turned her face to stare at him steadily.
Chen Yi tilted his head slightly, catching her gaze, and asked softly with a smile:
"What’s the matter?"
Yin Weiyin lowered her long lashes, her half-shuttered eyes resembling a tranquil spring—neither seductive nor longing. She thought for a mont before speaking in a clear voice:
"Taihua Mountain’s thods of cultivation have always centered the jade girls as primary and the golden boys as secondary."
Having finally reunited after so long, Chen Yi patiently listened, holding her gently in his embrace.
"Before I entered the mountain to train in the ways of the Tao, I already knew of its myriad techniques and understood their principles. It was precisely for this reason that, in tis of leisure, I often fell into wistful daydreams."
The white-robed crown turned her gaze away from him, her eyes stretching far, her Taoist robe swaying lightly in the breeze like spreading mist. She kept staring onward, seemingly lost sowhere in the distant horizon.
"In recent days, I composed verses. Shall I sing them for you?"
Chen Yi nodded slightly. Whether or not he could understand her song, he would listen all the sa.
Without delay, Yin Weiyin lowered her head in recollection, briefly glancing askance before lifting her voice from within, singing with clarity:
"The Golden Core leaks through the immortal’s gate, found only within the human heart.
Having gathered herbs beneath the moon while plucking strings, there’s freedom beside one’s companion.
The jade boy claps his hands, blocking the return path, teasing with endless chatter.
In monts of joy, clouds shift and rain churns; all feelings remain fleeting and hollow."
Her voice shimred with elegance, yet within it one could hear the undulating tides of emotion. When she had finished, she carefully recited specific lines, lingering especially on the last three. Though Chen Yi couldn’t fully grasp their aning, the song stirred sothing inexplicable deep within him.
Whether he understood it or not, Yin Weiyin sang it all the sa, her gaze fixed on the horizon, avoiding his expression.
After a long while, she spoke in a low voice:
"In these past days, I thought endlessly—most of it about us. From the mont we t to when I beca your concubine, a tangle of conflicts, countless troubles—it was too much. But... I cannot let go of my yearning for ascension."
Chen Yi remained silent.
She suddenly shook her head with a bitter laugh. "Am I foolish? Before you returned, I desperately wanted to find you. Now that you’re back, I desire immortality instead."
Chen Yi chuckled softly; her nature was crystal clear to him. She never knew when to stop, almost incapable of understanding the concept of "enough," unwilling to halt even when the path led in circles, accomplishing nothing but weariness—and yet she persisted.
Her temperant sotis irritated him, yet other tis, he admired it.
The truth was simple: they were neither destined as celestial soulmates nor fated to be the golden boy and jade girl.
The cold wind howled sorrowfully, brushing against Chen Yi’s hair and face, while faint mist swirled around Yin City. Their eting in the lancholic depths of autumn—overcast with the mournful cries of cicadas—had already sealed this as a love dood to entanglent and unresolved despair.
"You won’t follow to Taihua Mountain, and I refuse to remain trapped in courtyards forever. Yet if we part, you’ll think of , and I’ll yearn for you, just as I did before. I don’t even know anymore—does this count as love?"
The female crown poured forth her sentints and sighed softly: "But this life with you here and now—it isn’t what I truly desire."
Chen Yi understood the complex emotions woven into her words; he also knew the tornt unfolding within her heart.
Perhaps in the past she would never have uttered such things, swallowing them down, suppressing her emotions—but now, after voicing them, she trembled lightly. Similar feelings stirred in Chen Yi’s chest as a faint sigh escaped him.
So, this is what it’s like when an enemy becos a Dao companion—a bond at once lingeringly tender and anxiously unsettling.
"If this isn’t what you want, then what of it?" Chen Yi sneered.
The female crown lowered her head slightly, pressing her lips together before replying:
"I thought you might yield for ..."
From the beginning, Little Yin could never refuse him.
She was different—far stronger, more stubborn.
Even after resisting and struggling, she still could not refuse him.
Yin Weiyin’s face rested forlornly downward, sensing her husband pulling her closer, his embrace tightening. Her breath grew uneven, heart pounding rapidly, as she felt his fingers brush lightly against her hair.
Soon, sothing rested there.
The female crown’s heart skipped a beat.
Her fingertips lifted slightly, touching a hairpin—a cloud-patterned hairpin.
"I don’t know if I’d ever yield for you,"
His voice resounded softly by her ear,
"But I know this: if I t another Immortal on the road to leave the capital,
They wouldn’t compare to you."
Yin Weiyin’s eyes grew misty and sore. Shutting them gently, two tears slipped down her cheeks.
The teardrops streaked her pale skin as Chen Yi watched her silently, holding her as she adjusted the hairpin.
"Yesterday, I didn’t get the chance to tell you..."
"Happy birthday, Yin Weiyin."
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