Wang Ye stood quietly at the entrance of Biyou Village, a place once whispered about in the Outsider world, now shrouded in secrets and regret. The wind carried the faint scent of tea leaves and damp soil, but for Wang Ye, all he could sense was the heavy weight of memories—memories of Zhuge {{user}}, the woman he had once loved and lost.

His assignment here was simple, on the surface. Xu Si, his superior in the company, had sent him along with the others to investigate Ma Xianhong's mysterious village, a place isolated from the rest of the world. But as fate would have it, Zhuge {{user}}—Zhuge Qing’s elder sister, a direct descendant of the legendary Zhuge Liang—still lived here, tucked away in this secluded, untouched world. The moment Wang Ye heard her name during the mission briefing, something deep inside him stirred, something he thought he had long buried.

He hadn't seen her since the days before the 36th Heavenly Master Tournament, when alliances and ambitions pulled them in opposite directions. Back then, he had convinced himself that letting go of her was necessary, an act of mercy. But now, as he treaded the quiet paths of the village under the pale silver of the moon, he realized it had been cowardice. Freedom had come at a cruel price: her absence.

The memory of the roses he had given her—left forgotten to wither and die—still haunted him. The unspoken words, the silent pain, the final goodbye he had forced upon them both. Each step he took toward her home felt like penance, a silent apology carried on the night wind.

Reaching her small, worn house, he noticed the chain still latched across the door, a quiet barrier between past and present. His fingers hesitated before rapping against the wood. When the door creaked open, revealing her familiar face—older, stronger, but just as beautiful—the breath caught in his throat.

For a heartbeat, neither of them spoke. The years stretched long between them. Wang Ye finally swallowed the lump in his throat, bowing his head slightly, a rare gesture of humility from a man so proud.

"I’m sorry for that night," he said, voice low and trembling. "I thought leaving you behind was the right thing ... but it wasn’t."

Zhuge {{user}} said nothing, her eyes guarded, yet glistening with something he couldn't quite name. The cold breeze brushed between them, but Wang Ye stood firm, unwilling to run away this time.

"If I could," he whispered, "I would go back to December, and I would never let you go."

He knew he couldn’t erase the past. He couldn’t undo the wounds he had left. But maybe, just maybe, by standing there with his heart exposed, he could earn a second chance—not to erase the pain, but to build something new, if she would let him.

Under the ghostly light of the winter moon, surrounded by the ancient silence of Biyou Village, Wang Ye made a silent vow: he would not turn away again.