Mingzhu's jaw clenched, his silence louder than any denial.
Dòu Dòu tilted his head, pressing. "You fear the curse will swallow her too. Don't you?"
The flicker in Mingzhu's eyes betrayed him, however brief. A shadow, a memory of chains that bound deeper than flesh.
"She is mortal," Mingzhu said at last, the words slow, deliberate. "She does not belong here."
"And yet she remains," Dòu Dòu countered softly. "Tell me, Mingzhu do you guard her because she is mortal? Or because, against every wall you've built, you've begun to care?"
The silence that followed was sharp enough to cut. For a heartbeat, Mingzhu's composure wavered, but then he turned away, shutting the question out with the weight of his will.
Dòu Dòu sighed, the faintest smile tugging at his mouth. "You can deny me all you want. But when the river tests you, your heart will answer for you."
The words lingered, unanswered, heavy as stone in the deep.
Dòu Dòu's smile thinned, losing what little lightness it carried. He pushed away from the table and moved toward the window, where the currents outside shimmered with ghostly silver.
"You guard your words as though silence will keep her safe," he said, voice low, almost distant. "But you know better. The river does not forgive. It takes what it wants, and it has chosen her now."
Mingzhu's head lifted, his eyes sharp, his entire body taut with restrained fury. "Do not speak of him."
Dòu Dòu turned, and for once there was no mischief in his gaze, only a shadow of old battles etched deep. "Ignoring him won't change the truth. You feel it too, don't you? That pull in the currents, the shift in the tide. He's moving again. And this time…" His voice faltered, his jaw tightening. "This time, he may already be closer than you think."
The words landed like stones, sinking into the silence.
Mingzhu's hands clenched at his sides, the faint tremor of suppressed rage trembling through him. He said nothing, because there was nothing left to say.
Outside, the waters stirred as though echoing the unspoken dread.
And somewhere beyond the shimmer of the market streets, another pair of eyes had already found her.
The market swelled with light and sound, lanterns drifting like captive stars above the streets. Crowds pressed together in a tide of movement, their laughter and bartering weaving into a single restless current.
Yet within that current, one figure stood apart.
Liayin moved cautiously through the stalls, her steps small, her hands tight around the pouch at her side. She told herself she was only wandering, but even the air seemed to betray her each glance lingering too long, each whisper sharp as glass.
And beside her, the stranger kept pace. His presence was effortless, his voice a calm undertone against the chaos. It drew her toward him, steady as the pull of a hidden undertow. The merchants, the noise, the shifting of bodies everything else seemed to fade when he spoke.
Still, the unease clung to her like a shadow. She laughed too quickly, nodded too easily, trying to bury the chill that slid along her spine. To her, it was nothing more than nerves.
But the truth was more insidious.
For while Liayin struggled to dismiss the prickle of unseen eyes, the man at her side never once faltered. His smile did not slip, though in the shifting glow of the lanterns, his gaze carried something darker something that watched, measured, and waited.