Later, through Zane's actions and attitude, she began to understand something. And now, she understood completely.
He had come into this world alone, working hard to forget his past. What remained was a blank slate—untouched and empty.
And in that fresh start, the color that filled his canvas the most... was blue.
Because in the brief time he had spent in this new world, she had taken up the largest space in his life.
Though the brush of blue hadn't been used often, it was the boldest, deepest stroke of all.
So—if it could be said in an inelegant way—Zane had been moving toward her all along.
When he first arrived, he hid away his deepest emotions, saw himself as an outsider, and never tried to become part of the world. He simply drifted with it.
Zane might pour his feelings into Bangboo, into small animals, into other things—but when it came to people, because of everything he'd been through, he couldn't do that so easily.
But her existence—as his master—starting from that half-joking moment when Zane first called her "Master" out of curiosity, had slowly changed things.
She led him to step away from being a bystander... and become a participant. Someone willing to invest his feelings.
And their master-disciple bond was a core part of it. They had both moved toward each other from opposite ends—closing more than just the distance between them.
That was why this bond had grown so deep...
When had it become this deep?
Was it when they established their roles as master and disciple?
When Zane revealed his true identity?
Some quiet moment during their sparring sessions?
Or the moment he bared his secrets to her without holding anything back?
Or perhaps... it was now, during this irreplaceable experience?
Qingyi didn't know.
But what she did know—what she now felt desperately—was that she didn't want this to be the end.
If she imagined their time together as a progress bar...
she felt that 99% still remained unexplored between them.
She didn't want to lose that 99%. Not even a second of it. Because every fleeting moment they shared had become something she was deeply drawn to.
The initial confusion, the frantic rush after the arrival of the white flower and the Book of Trajectories, the tension and panic during crisis, the heartbreak when she understood the truth of the story, the helplessness of failing to take that final step...
But now, Qingyi wasn't afraid anymore.
Nothing remains forever—not even stillness.
She believed in him.
Believed he would do it.
Believed he would win.
Believed he would reclaim the path left unfinished.
She believed in hope.
In the future.
Qingyi looked at Zane. Her gaze was clear, and in it, she saw his face—his tears.
Since coming here, everything she'd seen had been Zane's world. Even when she looked at herself, it was through the lens of his world.
But now... her eyes reflected something else.
It wasn't Zane's world anymore.
It was...
her world.
"This is the first time I've seen you cry... Disciple... You look awful when you cry..."
Lying in Zane's arms, with crimson blood still flowing, Qingyi gave a faint, heartfelt smile.
Her voice had become too weak to conceal. Even her last few words were barely audible.
She was reaching the end.
There was no place left for her in this world.
And as her heart finally quieted, with that fading smile still on her lips, she whispered her last words.
"Don't cry..."
"My disciple..."
"You're the best..."
Her voice drifted down like an autumn leaf.
Falling softly to the ground, quietly returning to where it all began...
To meet its end.
Her hand slipped from Zane's grasp, falling lifelessly. Her body slumped forward, as if all strength had left her. Her head rested gently in his arms as her eyes closed.
The pale blue of her dress had already been stained deep red. Qingyi looked like she had simply fallen asleep—peaceful, serene.
As the world crumbled completely, Zane was swallowed by darkness.
And Qingyi, lying in his arms, faded into particles of light.
Like a butterfly fluttering its wings...
She shimmered with light...
and flew into the endless dark.
...