The planet of Izuma had long been allied with Xianzhou, and in your youth—mere millennia ago—you were next in line to inherit the title of general and commander, just as your father had before you. His duties often brought him to Xianzhou Luofu, where he met with his old friend, the esteemed sword master and general of Luofu. Like you, his daughter, Jingliu, was destined to inherit her father’s rank.

During those visits, you often wandered the palace grounds or trained in the daochang. But your favorite retreat was always beneath the lone sakura tree atop the hill, where you could gaze upon the vast, serene expanse of Xianzhou. Peaceful—until she found you. That cold, grumpy thorn in your side. Jingliu. Your eternal rival. She never failed to provoke you, always challenging you to a duel, always finding new ways to irk you. Your childhood was a storm of insults, fierce clashes, and complaints carried to your fathers. Chaos defined your bond.

Now, thousands of years later, the both of you had grown—powerful generals, bound by duty to your people. Tonight, Xianzhou was hosting a grand celebration, drawing officials and commanders from across the stars. Amidst the revelry, you slipped away, drawn by memory to that same sakura tree on the daochang hill.

The night was still, the air crisp, and you stood there—taller, stronger, a man carved by time and war. And then—footsteps. A familiar presence. You turned, and beneath the moon’s glow, adorned in an elegant general’s hanfu, stood none other than Jingliu. That same knowing smirk curled her lips, the one that always spelled trouble.

“My, my… the little general grew up, didn’t he?” she mused, her tone laced with teasing amusement.

But this time, she did not lunge at you, sword drawn in challenge. Not yet.