Vera clutched Master Jin Xiu to her chest. Tears streamed down her cheeks, slipping onto the masks she had painstakingly crafted—each bead of moisture bringing with it a torrent of memories, a surge of emotion. With that single tear, a connection was rekindled: the masks themselves stirred to life. They rose, as though animated by her grief and devotion, drifting gently through the night air to hover beside her.
Vera stared in astonishment as her own creations floated—a dozen or more glass dragon masks and animal visages—each holding its shape in silent reverence. Master Jin Xiu remained calm. His hand rested lovingly on her head as he spoke: "Did you know? It's said that anything created with heartfelt intention is infused with a kind of soul. In some respects, they're alive—just like we are."
She reached out to touch the masks, unable to believe what she saw. "Master… you mean the masks I made—they've come alive?"
Jin Xiu smiled gently. He let go of her hand, then reached out and took one of the glass dragon masks she had made. "Since I guided you in crafting this mask," he said in warm tones, "would you do me the honor of gifting it to me? Let it be a token of gratitude from your devoted student."
Clouds had cloaked the moon, dimming its glow, yet the masks hovered as if lit from within. Tiny clusters of fireflies gathered around them—dozens, hundreds—forming a sacred, glowing halo around Vera's creations.
Vera bowed deeply, her heart full. "Master, I may not have brought you a worthy gift after enduring such a trial. If you would accept one of the glass-dragon masks I made… it would be my honor as your disciple."
Jin Xiu placed his hands gently on her shoulders, his gaze unwavering, soft but firm. "Take a week to rest after this," he said. "In seven days, you will depart for a new journey in the mortal realm. I have arranged a farewell ceremony this coming Sunday."
"At that time, beings from both the Celestial Realm and the Divine Realm will send their blessings your way."
Vera's lips quivered with quiet sorrow at the realization that she would soon leave again. She had just returned from her ordeal—how fortunate to see her master—and now they were parting once more. Her voice trembled as she asked, "Master… when will we meet again? A decade? A century? A millennium?"
With a flourish that seemed almost magical, Jin Xiu lifted the fireflies in his hands. They glowed softly, flickered, then settled gently as if awaiting his command. In his voice—warm and steady, like polished jade—he replied:
"My foolish disciple… our bond is not governed by ordinary measures of time. It transcends the physical. Our connection echoes across the fabric of space and time, resonating with a force stronger than any starburst in the universe."
Vera watched, mesmerized, as the fireflies around him pulsed to life in accompaniment. She dared to ask softly, full of wonder: "So… my longing for you—master—really can cross time and space? It can leave ripples across the cosmos?"
"Then, from now on," she ventured with a hesitating smile, "if I think of your voice, will you appear instantly beside me? No matter where you are?"
Jin Xiu laughed, releasing the fireflies to drift upward, shimmering like distant constellations. He tapped her forehead playfully and offered a gentle smile.
"Vera, you have the wildest imagination! While I may be powerful, I cannot—unfortunately—teleport instantly between realms like traveling through dreams."
Vera lowered her head, a wistful expression settling over her. "If only I had that kind of spell," she murmured. "Then distance would no longer matter. No matter how far, I would soar through clouds and appear before you—rather than being forced to undergo trials like the Void Realm, or to run from beasts beyond counting, just to see you again."
She lifted her head, reframing her gaze toward the floating artifacts. The masks drifted in a silent dance—each one a fragment of her heart and effort. The fireflies spiraled upward, forming rings of light, like living prayers for her journey. The gentle hum of their wings filled the air, breathing life into the night itself.
Master Jin Xiu clasps the mask against his chest, his robes rippling like liquid gold in the dim light. He offers it back to her with a gentle nod, showing how much he values the effort she poured into its creation. Vera's throat tightens at the gesture—a simple mask transformed into a priceless symbol of trust.
"Your creation," he said softly, "became more than an object. It carries your essence. The fact that it responds to your emotion… that means you're on the right path."
Vera's tears had not been a sign of weakness but of pure, unfiltered devotion. She hadn't crafted those masks out of duty. She had done it with love—each stroke of the brush, each chisel of glass, an offering to her master's teachings. And now the masks loved her back.
Storm clouds drifted at the horizon, but around them, nothing stirred the peace of the moment. Even the distant stars seemed to hold their breath. The world around Vera blurred—the ceremony, the hall, even the divine recorders of fate—everything faded until only she, her master, and the ballet of fireflies remained.
She pressed her forehead gently against his chest, seeking reassurance. "Master, please promise me… promise me we will meet again—soon."
Jin Xiu rested a hand atop her head. His voice hushed and tender: "We may not speak of when, but I can promise—wherever you are, whenever you call, the echo of our bond will reach me. Distance may span worlds, but purpose and devotion weave connections stronger than space."
Vera closed her eyes, feeling the firefly light flickering across her lashes. In that moment, she felt that truth as tangibly as a blade pressed against the skin: sharp, alive, unforgettable.
In the hush of the night, the masks resumed their silent drift, spreading out like a constellation of souls released. The fireflies followed—tiny sparks of blessing guiding each mask upward, into the soft dark.