Chapter 87 – Echoes Beneath the Moon
The Liu Clan was silent that night.
Lanterns lined the edges of the courtyard, their faint golden glow flickering across wet stone and pale mist. The wind whispered through the plum blossoms, carrying the scent of rain-soaked petals and faint spiritual essence. Every sound felt amplified in that stillness—the soft hum of qi, the heartbeat of cultivation that throbbed beneath the land itself.
Inside the Meditation Hall, Lin Xuan sat cross-legged, his black robe tracing the faint outlines of his sharp frame. His eyes were closed, yet the air around him vibrated in invisible ripples. Threads of qi spiraled through the room, condensing into arcs of light that flickered like lightning beneath the surface of water.
Across from him knelt Liu Yue. Her raven hair swayed softly as violet soul-flames curled around her shoulders. Each breath she took drew the flame closer to stillness, as if even chaos itself obeyed her calm.
The moment stretched into eternity.
Then—
> "Synchronize your breath," Lin Xuan's voice broke the silence.
Liu Yue inhaled slowly, aligning her pulse with his. Their qi resonated—two tides meeting, testing, merging. Flame and aura interwove, forming a spiral that pulsed through the chamber like the beating of a single heart.
Lin Xuan rose smoothly, his movements liquid and precise. "Flow with me," he murmured.
Liu Yue followed.
He stepped forward—she mirrored. His left hand ignited with faint white light, hers with violet fire. As their strikes met, the air shuddered.
The Soul Spark Revival Art and Life Stabilization Flow collided, yet did not clash. They danced.
The combined energy painted streaks of gold and amethyst across the hall, etching burning symbols into the air itself.
Every step, every motion felt like a conversation—unspoken words flowing through movement and qi.
When Lin Xuan's hand turned in defense, she responded in trust. When she advanced, his stance yielded in guidance.
The rhythm grew faster, sharper—then slowed, like the ebb of a storm.
And in that moment—
Their auras merged.
It was not deliberate. It was instinct.
The resonance that burst forth shook the Meditation Hall to its foundation.
A ring of golden-violet light expanded from them, washing over the Liu Clan grounds like a second sunrise. Flowers trembled, rivers stilled, and the very qi of heaven bowed in response.
Across the courtyard, Luo Shuang looked up from her alchemy station, shielding her eyes. "What is this energy…?" she whispered.
At the Soul Lamp Hall's outer grounds, Xiao Fen and the captains froze mid-training. "That's not a technique," Xiao Fen murmured. "That's… harmony."
Dozens of cultivators turned toward the source, feeling their own qi vibrate in rhythm with that unseen pulse.
And at its center stood Lin Xuan and Liu Yue—no longer senior and junior—but two souls burning in perfect resonance.
When the light faded, the room was quiet once more. The faint crackle of dissipating flames lingered like an afterthought.
Liu Yue, flushed and breathing hard, met Lin Xuan's gaze. Her moonlight eyes trembled.
"I—didn't mean for that to happen," she whispered.
Lin Xuan's lips curved, just slightly. "Neither did I."
Their eyes lingered longer than either intended. The faint white glow of his pupils softened, reflecting her face in mirrored calm. She lowered her gaze, the air thick between them.
"Your control," he said after a moment, "has improved beyond what I could have expected."
She smiled faintly. "Then maybe you'll stop holding back next time."
He chuckled quietly. "You wouldn't survive it."
"Maybe I'd surprise you," she whispered, too softly for anyone else to hear.
By the time the resonance had faded, the courtyard was alive with whispers. Soul Lamp members bowed when Lin Xuan passed. The elites exchanged uneasy glances—they had felt that energy, not as an attack, but as a promise.
In that single instant, Lin Xuan and Liu Yue had created what even sects failed to achieve: true unity of spirit.
The Liu Clan had become something more than a home. It had become a living will.
Nightfall.
The rain had stopped, but the world still dripped with its memory.
The candles in Anika's chamber burned with a ghostly blue hue. Their flames did not flicker—they swayed in rhythm, as if breathing. Shadows crawled along the walls, twisting into shapes that whispered secrets of the heavens.
Before her stood the dimensional mirror, its glass rippling like liquid moonlight. When her fingertips brushed the surface, the reflection distorted—stretching, deepening—until another face emerged from within the veil.
> "Daichi…" she breathed softly, her tone breaking between relief and sorrow.
"Big Sis." His voice carried faint static, distorted by the vast gulf between realms. "I wasn't expecting you to call so soon."
Anika exhaled, her fingers brushing the pendant that glowed faintly at her collarbone. "You said the preparations were starting. What did you mean?"
Daichi's eyes, bright with cosmic fire, turned somber. "Ren's message reached us through the sealed channels. He's calling the remaining vessels. The gods are starting to move again—faster than predicted."
Anika's heartbeat quickened. "So… it's time."
He nodded once. "Yes. We'll soon leave the Middle Veil and ascend where he is. The others are gathering in the hidden dominion — Theo's already setting the anchor runes."
Her breath trembled. "And you're sure he's alive?"
Daichi's smile was faint, bittersweet. "You know him, Sis. Even the heavens couldn't erase him completely. He's waiting."
The mirror shimmered, static cracking along its edges. "You should start preparing too. Once the Celestial Axis realigns, your domain will collapse — you won't have much time to hide."
Anika's eyes hardened. "I'll be ready. But before that, there's something I must know."
Daichi tilted his head. "About him?"
She shook her head. "Not him." Her gaze lowered, voice trembling just slightly. "About her — about Yan'er."
Daichi froze. "Why… Sis?"
"She's starting to awaken fragments—too early." Anika's tone softened, almost breaking. "If her soul burns too bright before the veil lifts, the gods will notice. If they mark her…"
He sighed, shaking his head. "You know we can't look into 'His' thread. But—if we trace hers…"
"Yes," Anika whispered. "We might glimpse his path through hers."
Daichi's image flickered violently. "Then you'll need to speak with him."
"Only he can look through the Starveil without triggering the Heavens' detection. But be careful — every time he peers into destiny, it corrodes him further. And you know what that means."
"I know."
Daichi's voice softened. "Sis… you're doing too much. If you burn through your mortal anchor, you won't be able to return. You'll fade before 'He' ever sees you again."
Her eyes glistened faintly, but she smiled—a calm, resolute smile that mirrored the woman she once was. "If I fade protecting them, then that's enough."
"Besides, 'He' was the one who taught us that."
Daichi's jaw tightened. "You really are the same stubborn sister as before."
The mirror began to dissolve, his form fading back into rippling starlight.
> "We'll see you soon," Daichi said quietly. "When the gods descend again… our family will stand together."
> "Together," Anika whispered, as the mirror turned to dust.
The air stilled. Silence returned.
But Anika did not rest.
She turned, her hand forming a sigil in the air.
The walls trembled as the sigil ignited, forming a second mirror, smaller, darker — its reflection filled not with light, but a depthless void of stars.
From within that abyss, a pair of faint violet-silver eyes opened.
The air itself seemed to kneel.
> "Sis?"
Anika's breath hitched, her voice barely above a whisper. "I seek the thread of Yan'er."
The mirror pulsed once, faint starlight spreading like ripples over water. Then, out from the cosmic haze, a figure stepped forward — barefoot, calm, surrounded by a constellation that moved with his breath. His silver hair shimmered faintly violet under the starlight, his eyes deep and gentle, like the night sky had folded itself into his gaze.
> "Yan'er…?" Theo murmured, voice soft but layered with something old — exhaustion, maybe, or grief. "Why her, Sis? You know what it costs me to touch the threads again."
Anika's expression faltered for a moment, her hands tightening before she bowed her head. "I know, Theo. But you're the only one who can. We can't… Look into his fate. the only way left to glimpse his return lies through hers."
Theo sighed, a low, celestial sound that seemed to bend the room around them. "Always thinking of him. You haven't changed."
A small smile tugged at her lips. "Neither have you. Still the quiet one who hides pain behind that calm."
He looked away, faint amusement breaking through his weariness. "And you're still the reckless sister who risks her anchor always."
Anika chuckled softly. " Of Course! I would do anything for my family, after all, the only thing matters is family."
Theo's eyes flickered faintly, galaxies whirling in their depths. "The Moon's Child… the reborn echo. Her soul resonates with the Veil itself."
"Then you understand why I must know," Anika pressed, her tone trembling just slightly. "If she falls too soon—if her essence awakens before her time—everything we built, everything Ren fought for… will unravel."
Theo studied her for a long, silent moment. Then, with a weary sigh, he raised his hand. "Fine. But if the Heavens sense me peering through their threads again, they'll trace it back to me."
Anika stepped closer to the mirror, her voice firm. "Then I'll shield you. That's what big sisters are for, isn't it?"
A faint smile ghosted across his lips. "Still bossy, even across worlds."
The stars behind him brightened — thousands of constellations collapsing into a single point within his palm. The entire mirror trembled, runes glowing as the air split into lines of divine geometry.
> "Show me the thread of the Moon's Blood… the girl known as Yan'er."
A quiet hum filled the chamber. Light spun, bending, warping — then burst outward like a storm of stars.
Anika gasped as visions swirled before her eyes — flashes of Liu Yue standing beneath the moonlight, her raven hair flickering to silver for an instant… Lin Xuan's shadow behind her, blurred, unreachable… and far above them, a golden crack forming across the heavens.
Theo winced, his knuckles whitening as faint blood trickled from his palm. "Her thread… it's tangled with his. Every time the moon waxes, it pulls him closer. But—"
"But what?" Anika demanded.
His gaze darkened. "The gods have already begun watching her. Not because of who she is now, but because of who she was. Her divine resonance bleeds through each cycle. The moment she awakens fully… the Heavens will descend again."
Anika's breath trembled. "Then there's still time."
Theo shook his head slowly. "Barely. The seal is already thinning. If he keeps training her at this pace, the soul echoes will sync too early. When that happens—"
"—the veil will tear," Anika finished softly, her expression grave.
Theo's eyes dimmed. "Sis… you're playing with threads that don't belong in this age. You've done enough. Let it go."
Her lips quirked into a faint, wistful smile. "You sound like Daichi."
"Huh? So for the first time in his life that moron is looking like a sensible person"
Theo said gently. "You've carried this burden long enough. When 'he' returns… 'he' won't want to see you broken."
Anika closed her eyes, her voice soft but resolute. "He taught me to protect, Theo. He taught us all. If protecting our family means burning through what's left of me, then so be it."
Theo's jaw tightened. "Then promise me you won't do it alone this time."
She smiled faintly. "When have I ever kept that promise?"
Theo chuckled weakly — a sound that cracked with pain and affection both. "Still impossible."
The light in the mirror began to fade, the stars dimming around him.
> "Be careful, Sis," Theo murmured. "When the Starveil breaks again, we'll come. But until then, keep them safe. Keep her safe."
Anika's eyes softened, her voice a whisper as she pressed a hand to the fading glass. "I will. Tell Daichi to hold the line. And Theo…"
He met her gaze.
> "Tell him I'll be waiting — just like always."
Theo smiled, faint and sorrowful. "You always were the heart of our family."
The mirror cracked, the reflection scattering like shards of frozen light. Starlight rained across the floor, then vanished.
Anika stood alone again, the sigil on her palm fading into a dull glow. Her body trembled with exhaustion, her pulse uneven.
Still, she looked toward the open window — where the night wind whispered over the mountains, carrying the faint scent of rain and distant thunder.
> "Yan'er…" she murmured, her voice barely audible. "Your path is the key. And when it begins to shine… we'll all be waiting."
Her eyes lifted to the dark horizon, where somewhere, beyond the stars, her brothers prepared to fight the gods again.
> "Together," she whispered to the night. "Just like before."
The candlelight dimmed. The air stilled. The heavens trembled faintly — as if something ancient had just turned its gaze back toward the mortal world.