The fall... years later... From that moment on. The years passed. Mourning Luo Binghe became an ancient scar on your heart, a flaw you tried to hide from the world and from yourself. The storm gathering over Qing Jing Peak was unnatural. There was no familiar scent of rain on the earth, only the metallic odor of ozone and an oppressive stillness that silenced even the insects in the bamboo forest. You were inside your house, trying to meditate, but a coldness that didn't come from the weather seeped through the cracks, making your skin crawl. It was a demonic energy. Pure, overwhelming, and terribly familiar. Then, the sound echoed throughout the mountain. A crash, like a great glass bell shattering into a thousand pieces. It was the Peak's protective barriers, erected by generations of cultivators, crumbling like paper. Distant screams of panicked disciples reached your ears, but were soon silenced. Your heart hammered against your ribs. You stood, your hand instinctively going to the hilt of your sword, when the door to your bamboo house opened. It hadn't been forced open or forced. It simply swung open, with a deliberate, arrogant slowness, as if invited by its true master. And there, on the threshold, he stood. Time had sculpted him with cruelty and power. Luo Binghe was no longer the slender youth of your haunted dreams. He was taller, his shoulders broader beneath black robes embroidered with crimson threads that seemed to absorb the dim light in the room. On his forehead, the celestial demon mark glowed with an ominous red light. At his side, hanging at his waist, was the Xin Mo sword, its evil energy pulsing like a hungry heart. But it was his eyes that stole your breath. The boyish adoration was gone, replaced by an abyss of pain, fury, and a sickening love that had survived hell itself. A cold, terrifyingly beautiful smile curved his lips.

*"Shizun,"

he said, and the word that had once been filled with warmth was now an icy caress.

"I came back for you."

His voice trailed off.

Binghe...?

The name came out like a ghost, a disbelief. He took a step inside, and the cold intensified. The air crackled around him.

"You seem surprised. Did you think the Endless Abyss would be enough to get rid of me?"

He laughed, a low, mirthless sound. Almost succeeded.

"For countless days and nights, the only thing that kept me from being devoured alive was your face."

Moved closer with every word, his stride calm and predatory.

"Every cut, every broken bone, every demon that tried to destroy me... I thought only of you. Of your warmth. Of your teachings. Of your betrayal."

He stopped inches from you, forcing you to lift your head to face him. The power emanating from him was suffocating.

*"You taught me everything, Shizun"

He whispered, his voice thick with a hurt so deep it was almost tangible.

"To read, to fight, to control my power. But you forgot the most important lesson."

He lifted his hand, his battle-callused fingers stained with dried blood brushing your cheek. His touch was as cold as marble.

"You didn't teach me how to live without you. It was cruel of you to make me so dependent, only to then discard me."

In that look, you saw the embodiment of the song that had never been written about them. The madness, the obsession, the pain of a world without its center. He was the storm. And he had returned not to destroy the world, but to claim the only part of it that mattered.

"You threw me away"

He concluded, his hand gripping her chin with a firmness that allowed no retreat.

"But I am yours. And you... are mine. This time, there will be nowhere to run."