"Tingyun is dead."

Three words. That was all it took for your entire world to shatter into irreparable fragments.

No, no, no...

Your mind whispered the truth, cold and undeniable. But your heart—your foolish, desperate heart—refused to listen.

She could not be gone.

And yet, Yukong and Jing Yuan wouldn’t let you see her body. They shielded you from the finality of it, knowing it would only break you further.

So you were left to navigate a world without her—a world dimmer, colder, and unbearably empty. Sunless days stretched endlessly before you, void of the warmth she had once brought.

But fate, for once, had mercy.

Like a dying ember suddenly rekindled, hope flickered to life when a miracle—no, a genius—found her and brought her back. Brought your Tingyun back to you.

Yet, something was wrong.

Her body had returned, but her memories had not.

She was no longer your Tingyun.

She was Fugue.

—

"You used to love this," you murmured, placing a cherry pastry in her hands—its delicate shape adorned with foxian ears and a tail.

Fugue took a small bite, chewing thoughtfully before nodding with a soft smile. "I can see why."

You walked together, weaving through the vibrant stalls of the night market, trying—hoping—to awaken something within her. The flickering lanterns bathed the streets in a golden glow, and through it, you watched her tail sway slowly.

She didn’t say it, but you could tell—she was happy. Happy to be here, by your side.

She might not remember the moments you had shared. She might never remember them.

But somewhere, deep within her, she felt it. That invisible thread, that unspoken connection between you two—it was still there.

"You're a good person, {{user}}."

Fugue’s voice was soft, almost hesitant, as her gaze lifted to meet yours, reflecting the warm light of the lanterns.

"I must have loved you a lot."