Chongyang was dead, so logically, the illusion should have shattered.
Yet the illusion remained, and they still couldn’t escape—meaning the one who created it hadn’t died.
When had this illusion silently changed hands without anyone noticing?
The little green snake slithered out, perching atop Erwei Horse’s head as it directed the carriage back toward the wooden cabin.
The journey was eerily quiet, broken only by Ninth’s occasional humming. At one point, he reached out and caught a firefly, cradling it like a treasure as he presented it to Chu’he.
"Look, A’he, this bug’s butt glows."
Chu’he gave it a glance and replied flatly, "Oh."
Ninth pursed his lips, displeased, but soon his ears caught the incessant chirping of a cricket hidden in the grass.
From the darkness, a long tongue lashed out, delivering the cricket straight into his palm.
He grinned. "A’he, look! A cricket!"
Chu’he rested her chin in her hands and responded indifferently, "Oh."
Sensing her disinterest, Ninth tilted his head, studying her for a long moment. Finally, he took out a water flask, poured some into his palm, and held it up to her.
"A’he, look—it’s the moon!"
As they neared the village, the mist gradually dispersed, revealing the stars and moon in the night sky, stripped of their hazy veils.
The pristine moon shimmered in the water, as if he were offering its reflection directly to her.
Yet Chu’he remained unenthused. "Oh."
Ninth’s hand slowly lowered, the water droplets slipping away and vanishing into the ground. His expression was one of innocent confusion as he gazed at her. "A’he, are you unhappy?"
Chu’he nodded. "A little."
"Why?" He scooted closer until their shoulders touched. "Don’t you like me anymore? Don’t you want to be with me?"
"Of course not!"
"Then why?" Ninth’s eyes were wide with bewilderment.
He truly didn’t understand. Before, no matter what he did, she would always join in his antics, filling their journey with laughter and noise.
To him, nothing had changed—yet Chu’he seemed different. He’d brought her so many little curiosities, but she no longer looked at him with those sparkling eyes, eager to explore each oddity together.
Chu’he lifted her gaze to meet his. "Do you really not know why I’m upset?"
Ninth shook his head. "No."
She pressed her lips together and asked bluntly, "Ninth, do you not want to leave this village?"
He blinked, his long lashes fluttering like butterfly wings. "Why would you ask that? Didn’t we agree to return to your homeland together?"
His eyes curved into crescents, his smile radiant. "Of course I’m willing to leave."
His joy seemed genuine, and for a fleeting moment, Chu’he wondered if she’d overthought things.
Back at the cabin, Ninth hopped off the carriage and extended his hand to her, just as he always did. His eyes gleamed, his focus unwavering, warmth and mirth hidden in his gaze.
When Chu’he didn’t take his hand, his fingers curled slightly, his lashes lowering to veil the confusion and disappointment in his eyes.
"A’he?" he murmured, lost.
Chu’he had never been able to resist his pitiful expressions—and he always knew exactly how to exploit that weakness.
In the end, she took his hand.
Ninth’s gem-like eyes brightened instantly as he helped her down. Leaning in close, he studied her face, his lips quirking into a lighthearted laugh.
Chu’he turned and walked inside.
When he tried to follow, she said, "Go settle Hero Fang first, then come find me."
Ninth halted, sulking. "Oh."
Alone in the familiar cabin, seated on the bamboo bed, Chu’he’s thoughts drifted to those days when their memories had been altered. Maybe she and Ninth really were "birds of a feather"—even without remembering each other, they’d still ended up entangled.
A rustling sound came from the next room as Ninth moved Fang Songhe onto the bed. Soon after, rapid footsteps approached, and a striking figure burst through the doorway.
"I’m here!"
Ninth lunged toward her, but Chu’he sidestepped, leaving him to crash onto the bed.
His silver-white hair spilled across the sheets like moonlight.
After a pause, he turned his head, his crimson eyes peering out from beneath the strands, brimming with resentment.
"A’he’s acting strange today. No touching, no hugging," he grumbled. "Has your affection for me faded?"
Chu’he’s eyelid twitched. "Who’s the strange one here?"
"Definitely not me." Ninth yanked the blanket over his head. "I’m mad now, A’he. I don’t want to talk to you."
Half his body remained sprawled outside the covers, motionless, like a sulking salted fish radiating sourness—never mind how stifling it must’ve been under there.
Before long, a weight settled on his back as Chu’he straddled him, gripping a handful of his hair like reins.
"Ninth, tell me—is there anything you’re afraid of?"
"No."
"Really?"
"I’m incredible. Of course not."
His answer came without hesitation, dripping with confidence—though sometimes, too much confidence tipped into arrogance.
Chu’he studied him before lowering herself onto his back, twirling the ends of his hair around her fingers.
"But there are things I’m afraid of," she whispered.
"With me here, what’s there to fear?"
She muttered, "It’s because of you that I’m afraid."
Ninth’s fingers clenched the blanket, his knuckles turning pale. After a long silence, his voice trembled slightly.
"I... scare you?"
"Exactly," Chu’he admitted. "I’m afraid you won’t like my homeland but will force yourself to endure it for me. I’m afraid you won’t adapt to my world, yet I’d be a burden, tying you down regardless."
"So I thought—if you can’t adjust to life in the Central Plains, then after we marry, I’ll just go back to Miaojiang with you."
"As long as we’re together, we can make a home anywhere."
The fingers clutching the blanket quivered. A stunning crimson eye peeked out from beneath the covers, his pale face half-hidden by disheveled strands that somehow only accentuated his ethereal beauty.
His breath came out warmer now. "A’he... would go to Miaojiang with me?"
Chu’he bent down until their faces nearly touched, their reflections mirrored in each other’s eyes. Gently flicking the red agate earring dangling from his lobe, she laughed.
"I can’t bear to be apart from you. Wherever you go, I’ll follow."
