She couldn't get rid of Lian's existence and the moon beast's... There was a baby too entwined in between.... She hasn't seen the baby, and the baby needed motherly love...
Her throat tightened, a hollow ache rising as she stared into the moonlit courtyard helplessly.
The soft wind brushed through the half-open lattice, carrying with it the faint scent of rain and distant bells from the temple tower. For a long moment, Yueyao stood there in silence, motionless, breath trembling, as though the night itself were listening.
A child.
The words echoed in her mind, sharp and surreal. A child born of her and Lian's bond, something she had never imagined, never prepared herself for. Her hand drifted to her abdomen instinctively, though she knew there was nothing there now. Still, the phantom warmth lingered.
If what he said was true… then somewhere in this world, her blood and his ran through another heartbeat.
Her lashes lowered, a tremor passing through her. What had the original Yueshuang done? To bind herself to a wolf, to a forbidden love, and then her as Yueyao binds to the divine beast her clan once worshipped.
"This wasn't supposed to happen," she murmured, her voice thin and breaking. "It's not my life… but I can't unlive hers."
The mark at her neck pulsed faintly, as if answering her dilemma, the divine energy within her stirred, a quiet, ancient force that recognized no guilt, only destiny.
Yueyao bit her lip, forcing herself to breathe. "A child of the moon and wolf… no wonder fate cursed them."
She pressed a hand to the window frame, her knuckles white. Her thoughts twisted, circling between duty and the faint, aching memory of his arms, the warmth, the way her name trembled on his tongue.
Lian.
He had looked at her like she was salvation. And yet… his salvation had cost her everything.
"I can't destroy him," she whispered to the night like she was making a vow, "And I can't destroy what's tied to me." The consequences were unbearable, and this was something that couldn't be undone.
Her gaze hardened, a cold clarity settling in her eyes. "Then I'll protect it, all of it if it means her survival... But on my own terms."
The wind rustled the paper lanterns outside, their dim light swaying, shadows fluttering like uncertain spirits.
She turned from the window and moved toward the shrine alcove in the corner of her room. Kneeling, she lit a new stick of incense, the flame catching slowly and steadily. The smoke curled upward, faint, silver, like breath.
"Moon Mother," she murmured, bowing her head. "If the soul you returned has truly taken her place, then guide me. Let me mend what she shattered. Let me atone for what she left behind."
The incense smoke wavered, forming almost a crescent shape before dispersing into the air.
Her eyes glimmered faintly under the lamplight, tired, resolute, and quietly divine.
"I will find the moonbeast, and resurrect it" she whispered again, softer now, as if promising not just the heavens but herself, "And when I do… I will make sure the curse ends, for him, for the child… and for the woman whose fate I've stolen."
Outside, thunder rumbled over the distant mountains. The night grew heavier, as if the sky itself bore witness to her vow.
And for the first time since her awakening, Yueyao, the soul wearing another woman's face, felt the pull of her true path begin to take shape.
Suddenly a sharp knock broke through the silence.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Yueshuang froze, her hand still hovering above the incense burner. Her heart gave a startled jolt, the kind that came from a body reacting before the mind caught up.
From the moment she came back from Lian's bedroom, she felt like everyone was watching her from the shadows.
She wondered how the original Yueshuang had managed to live such a kind of life full of secrecy. She just woke up but felt tormented.
Another knock followed, softer this time, but urgent.
"Shuang'er?" came a familiar voice, gentle, warm, laced with quiet concern, "Are you still awake, dear?"
That voice, belonged to her mother. The mother she had just inherited.
Yueshuang's breath suddenly hitched, she hastily wiped the tears from her cheeks, forcing her trembling fingers still. For a moment, she considered pretending to be asleep, to let the silence speak for her, but the thought of her mother waiting outside in worry was somehow worse.
She just woke up, and it was best if she didn't worry them.
She took a moment to steady her emotions and voice, though it still wavered when she answered, "Mother? I… I'm here."
The latch clicked as she opened the door just enough to see her mother's silhouette bathed in lamplight. Lady Yuwen stood there in her soft jade robes, her hair loosely tied, a faint smile on her lips though her eyes betrayed the worry beneath.