Chapter 1
The tent was quiet, too quiet. Outside, life continued.
People spoke and someone laughed. A fire crackled somewhere in the distance.
Inside, there was only silence.
Yueling sat on the edge of the bed with her knees drawn up slightly. The tent flaps were closed. Light filtered through the fabric walls in soft orange hues from the afternoon sun, but she barely noticed it.
Her gaze remained fixed on the floor, she wasn’t cultivating, wasn’t sleeping, wasn’t thinking or perhaps she was thinking too much.
The child. The word alone felt foreign to her… Mother, that word felt even worse. Her fingers slowly curled against her robes.
After a while, footsteps approached, they stopped outside the tent.
Yueling didn’t look up.
A few moments later the flap opened and Suiren entered carrying a tray. Steam rose from a clay pot resting upon it.
The smell filled the tent immediately. Warm broth. Fresh bread. Honeyed fruits. The sort of meal they served at the palace.
Yueling lowered her head further.
Suiren looked at her quietly then he walked over and placed the tray on the small table.
Neither spoke and the silence stretched. Yueling thought he would say something. Ask questions. Demand answers.
Instead, he simply sat down across from her. After a while he picked up a bowl and started eating. The sound of the spoon tapping against the bowl echoed softly through the tent.
Yueling’s eye twitched, another spoonful, then another and another.
Finally she frowned. “You’re loud.”
Suiren swallowed. “Good.”
Yueling slowly lifted her gaze. “What does that mean?”
He took another bite. “It means you’re talking to me.”
Her frown deepened and Suiren continued eating as though nothing was wrong as though his wife hadn’t vanished into a volcano. As though she hadn’t terrified everyone, as though his heart hadn’t nearly stopped when she disappeared.
The normality of it irritated her.
After a while he reached for another bowl and filled it then held it towards her.
Yueling looked away. “No.”
“Eat.”
“I’m not hungry.” The moment she said it, her stomach growled, traitorously.
Suiren immediately looked down at her stomach.
Yueling wanted to throw herself back into the volcano.
Suiren’s mouth twitched. “Ah.”
“Don’t.”
“Ah.”
“Brother Sui.”
His smile widened. “Looks hungry to me.”
Yueling buried her face in her hands. “This is humiliating.”
“Eat.”
“No.”
“Eat.”
“No.”
“Eat.”
Yueling glared at him through her fingers. Suiren held the bowl out patiently, completely unmoved.
Eventually she snatched it from him and her husband looked pleased, which only made her more annoyed. She took a bite, then another, then another. Halfway through the bowl she realised she had finished most of it already and her expression darkened.
Suiren leaned back against the chair. “There she is.”
Yueling paused. “What?”
“My wife.”
The annoyance vanished. Her fingers tightened around the bowl. Suiren wasn’t looking at her stomach. Wasn’t looking at the child. Wasn’t looking at her with pity. He was simply looking at her, the same way he always did.
Like nothing had changed. Like she hadn’t run away. Like she hadn’t broken down. Like she was still just Yueling.
A strange ache spread through her chest and she lowered her gaze. “Brother Sui.”
“Mn?”
Her voice came out quieter than she intended. “What if something is wrong with it?”
Suiren’s expression softened. “What if it inherits my curse?”
He didn’t answer immediately.
Yueling stared down into the bowl. “What if it ends up like me?”
The silence stretched. For a moment she thought he wouldn’t answer then the chair scraped softly against the floor.
A moment later strong arms wrapped around her from behind. Suiren rested his chin on top of her head. “What if it does?”
Yueling froze. His answer wasn’t what she expected. “What?”
Suiren tightened his arms around her. “If our child laughs like you, I’ll love it.”
He kissed the top of her head. “If it gets angry like you, I’ll love it.” Another kiss. “If it looks like you, I’ll love it.”
His voice lowered. “And if it suffers like you did...”
His embrace tightened slightly. “Then I’ll spend the rest of my life protecting it the same way I’m protecting its mother.”
Yueling’s eyes burned. She stared at the bowl in her hands. The food suddenly tasted like ash. Not because it was bad, because she was trying very hard not to cry.
Suiren felt her shoulders trembling, but he didn’t say anything. He simply held her as though he intended to stay there for as long as she needed and for the first time since learning about the child, Yueling didn’t pull away.
♡ ⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹ ♡
When it seemed like Yueling had finally calmed down, Suiren spoke softly. “My princess, when you speak of a curse... are you talking about those black vines I saw in my past life?”
Yueling was lying between his legs, her arms wrapped around his waist as if she needed something solid to hold onto. At his question, she released a long breath and nodded. “Mn.”
Suiren’s fingers moved through her hair slowly. “When you were sleeping the other day, I woke up before you. I saw it covering your body too and mine.” His voice remained gentle. “I guess that’s why you panicked and tried to suppress it.”
“Mn.” The sound was barely audible.
“What is it exactly?” he asked. “It scared you. Is it really a curse?”
Yueling was silent for a long moment then she sat up. Crossing her legs on the bed, she stared at him quietly. Her expression was strange—tired, distant, and older than she had ever looked before.
“I call it a curse,” she mumbled, “but it isn’t one.”
Suiren frowned.
Yueling lowered her gaze to her hands. “It’s my self-inflicted wrath.”
His brows twitched. The answer only created more questions.
Yueling’s fingers slowly curled into her robes. “I hate them, Suiren.” Her voice was soft, too soft. “So bad.”
Her hands drifted unconsciously to her stomach. The moment her palm rested there, her eyes unfocused. For a while she simply stared at nothing. “They took everything from me… This child.”
Silence filled the tent.
Outside, distant voices drifted through the camp, but inside there was only the quiet rhythm of breathing.
Yueling lowered her head. “I know you want it, but it just can’t stay here.”
The confession seemed to drain something from her. “I went through so much just to become who I am today. I don’t wish any of this on anyone.”
Her voice dropped lower. “Especially not a child.”
Suiren reached over and took her hands into his. He drew in a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. He did not want to lose her, the thought alone made his chest ache.
For so long, his entire life had revolved around reaching this point. Finding her. Protecting her. Convincing her to stay beside him. He had chased after her with everything he had, terrified that if he loosened his grip for even a moment she would disappear.
Yet somewhere along the way, he had forgotten something important. He had spent so much time trying to keep her that he had never truly asked what she was carrying.
He had accepted every mystery. Every secret. Every strange thing surrounding her. Because she was Yueling. Because she was his wife. Because he trusted her, but now that trust wasn’t enough.
Now he needed answers. “I know.” His voice was quiet. “I saw some of your memories.”
Yueling lowered her gaze.
Suiren squeezed her hands gently. “They were painful.” His throat tightened. “And I hate that you had to go through all of that.”
For a moment neither of them spoke then he searched her eyes. “My wife...” His voice softened further. “You say our child can’t live through this.”
“Do you doubt your own capabilities?” She remained silent. “Do you doubt me?” Still nothing. “Or is it us?”
The question lingered between them.
Suiren leaned forward slightly. “Please tell me what is going on.” His brows furrowed. “Because I don’t know how to make sense of all this.”
His thumb brushed over her knuckles. “I don’t know you for being weak. I don’t know you for being confused and I certainly don’t know you for being disinterested.”
His free hand moved slowly to her stomach. The moment his palm rested there, spiritual energy flowed gently from him. He felt it immediately, the tiny life sleeping beneath her skin, small, fragile and alive.
His eyes softened. “This child knows you.” His voice grew quieter. “And it knows me.”
The warmth beneath his hand remained steady. Suiren looked back at her. “Maybe...” He hesitated. “Maybe you do want it.” His expression turned pained. “But you just don’t accept us.”
Yueling stared at him then a tired smile appeared on her lips. It was small. Sad. Hopeless. “No, Suiren.”
Her voice was barely above a whisper. “I love you.”
The answer came without hesitation, without uncertainty, without doubt. Her fingers tightened around his. “It’s this world.” The smile faded. “This world is cannibalistic.”
Her gaze drifted somewhere distant. “It devours everything. It swallowed me.”
The exhaustion returned to her eyes. “Your child can’t live in it.”
Suiren immediately tightened his hold on her hands. “Our child.”
Yueling fell silent.
He repeated it again, firmly as though correcting something important. “Our child, Yueling.”
His voice shook then he gently reached up and touched her cheek. “No.”
A faint smile appeared despite the fear in his heart. “Our child, Shiyue.”
The moment her true name left his lips, something inside her seemed to pause.
Suiren held her gaze. “This child belongs to both of us. Not just me. Not just you, us.”
His hand remained over her stomach, protective, steady and certain. “You keep calling it my child.”
His voice became rough. “But every time you do that, it feels like you’re standing further away from me.”
The confession hurt to say, because it was true.
Every time she said your child instead of our child, it felt as though she had already decided she would not be standing beside him when the child arrived as though she was slowly separating herself from a future he wanted more than anything.
Suiren swallowed, then quietly asked, “When you look at this child...” His fingers trembled slightly against hers. “What is it that you’re really afraid of seeing?”
