The night after leaving the brothel, the capital had long since sunk into silence.
The wind moved the lanterns outside the inn, making their shadows sway like restless spirits. Inside the small room, Li Qiong sat by the window, the candlelight flickering across his black robe. The little girl stood a few steps away, stiff and unsure—like a sparrow brought indoors for the first time.
She had not spoken since they arrived.
Only when Li Qiong lifted his gaze did she finally whisper,"Master… what should I call you?"
Li Qiong placed the painting aside."My name comes later," he said quietly. "First tell me yours."
The girl lowered her head."I don't… have one."
Something flickered in Li Qiong's eyes—something old, distant, painfully familiar.
"Then," he murmured, "I will give you one."
He thought for a long moment. The candle flame danced against his half-shadowed face.A name formed on his lips before it formed in his mind.
"Feiya.From today onward… you will be Feiya."
The girl blinked, then repeated, "Feiya…?"Her voice trembled, grasping the name like someone clutching a piece of driftwood in a storm.
"Then… do I also get a family name?"
Li Qiong hesitated.
Her next words were soft, but firm with a child's stubborn resolve.
"I want yours."
He turned to her fully—black eyes deep as ink."Feiya… do you understand what you're asking? My surname is not to be taken lightly."
But she stepped forward, courage trembling in her small fists."You bought my freedom. You gave me a name. And you… you didn't look at me the same way others did."Her voice cracked."So please… let me be Li Feiya."
Li Qiong looked at her, and for a moment… the world shifted.
Because this was not the first time he had given that name.Not the first time he called someone Feiya.
His Memory — A Past Life Long Buried
Snow.
He remembered snow falling like ash.He remembered his breath rising as smoke in the frozen air.
He remembered a small village on his journey back to his hometown—mud huts, thin smoke curling weakly, children screaming with laughter.
And then—A silent cry.
Stones being thrown.
A group of children circling a girl lying on the road.Her breaths were shallow, body trembling, her face mangled by a long scar running from temple to chin.Her skin blistered with disease, peeling in patches.Blood soaked into the snow beneath her.
Adults passed by, pretending not to see.
Some whispered behind sleeves:
"Disgusting.""She deserved it.""Serves her right.""She used to act like a fairy—now look at her."
Li Qiong walked by.He didn't stop.He didn't look.He simply passed her like everyone else.
But when he reached the end of the road… he paused.
Because he remembered himself.
She was…
Once the most radiant courtesan in the capital.Men fought for a single greeting. Young masters dueled just to hear her sing.Her dance was celestial—like a fairy descending from the heavens.
But fame was a thin thread.
Her beauty was her worth…So when illness stole her beauty—
She became trash to them.A discarded ornament.A broken toy.
The world that once adored her turned its back the moment she fell.
Li Qiong had many scars.On his face, on his body… on his soul.
He looked down at his own arms—skin burned, flesh mangled, his reflection monstrous.A devil hiding behind a mask, even back then.
If someone had saved me, he thought,would I have lived differently?
He turned around.Walked back.
The children scattered instantly—seeing only a tall man in black robes, scarred and silent like death itself.
He knelt.
She opened her eyes—barely.
"…Why…?" she whispered. "Why come back?"
Li Qiong looked at her slowly.
"I'm saving myself."
He carried her out of that village.Tended her wounds.Taught her to walk again.Taught her to dream again.Taught her to live—not for others, but for herself.
And when she asked for a surname—
He gave her his.
Back to the Present — Fate Repeats
Li Qiong exhaled softly, almost inaudibly.
Fate…or perhaps karma…had a cruel sense of humor.
He looked at the girl in front of him—this new Feiya.Young, yet carrying the same quiet despair, the same defiance.
"Very well," Li Qiong said at last, voice low as drifting snow."From today onward, your name shall be Li Feiya."
Her eyes widened—filled with something fragile yet burning.
"Li… Feiya…" she repeated, cherishing each syllable as if it were a priceless treasure.
Li Qiong watched her, a strange heaviness pressing inside his chest.Something like prophecy.Something like fate.
He spoke softly, almost to himself:
"Names are seeds.Once planted… they grow.Sometimes… into flowers.Sometimes… into thorns."
The girl didn't understand, but she nodded earnestly anyway.
Then she hesitated."Master… why did you save me?"
Li Qiong turned away from the candle, letting the shadows hide his face.
"…Because once," he said quietly,"I wished someone had saved me."
His voice, carried by the wind, felt both gentle and unbearably heavy.
The candle flickered.
Outside, city lanterns trembled in the night wind like red stars about to fall.
And within that small room, destiny quietly shifted—as Li Qiong unknowingly reclaimed a piece of his past.