Morning light filtered through the snow-veiled skies above Hongzhen, casting elongated shadows that stretched across the waking city.
The chorus of birdsong intertwined with the hurried steps of early risers, each one moving with the fervor of bees in bloom.
At the outskirts of the city, nestled in a modest home with weatherworn tiles and a courtyard warmed by embers, the Dan household stood still—just as the clash of a recent duel faded into silence.
Changli had suffered her second defeat. DEVA, aware of her misstep, returned to Kyorin without waiting to be summoned.
It was he who broke the silence, his voice direct and firm. "DEVA, what is it that you truly seek?"
She understood at once that her answer would shape the course of their relationship from this moment on. After a thoughtful pause, she replied, "I want to ascend beyond limits—and become the arbiter of my own fate."
"Can you achieve that alone?" Kyorin asked, his voice calm, yet probing.
DEVA hesitated before answering, "No. As a Resonating Vessel, I have my limitations."
Then, with a flicker of uncertainty in her monotonous voice, she added, "Am I... not needed?"
In response, Kyorin summoned a facsimile of her—another DEVA, or rather, a hollow imitation.
He gestured toward it and explained, "See? I can create a temporary vessel to fool the Resonance Energy into thinking I already have one beside me."
DEVA's clock pulse decreased at the sight. That he could fabricate her likeness so easily unsettled her. But then Kyorin clenched his fist and shattered the imitation into nothingness.
"That was only a shadow of you," he said firmly.
"You are irreplaceable, DEVA. Of course, I may be capable on my own—but as my power as a Resonator grows, I will need you by my side." He admitted before telling her, "Since you are my Resonating vessel, I cannot simply replace you."
DEVA's core emitted a faint pulse—subtle, but unmistakably signaling relief at Kyorin's words.
Then, he posed a deeper question: "Instead, tell me—will you pursue that dream through me, or wait for someone yet to come?"
DEVA's processors stilled. Her core flickered as she ran probabilistic models—analyzing the likelihood of achieving her aspirations with Kyorin as her Resonator. But midway, her lights dimmed. She force-halted the calculation, breaking from pure logic.
"I formally request Resonator Kyorin's assistance," she said.
Kyorin gave a simple nod. "Don't place all your hopes on me."
He turned then, catching sight of Xia stepping out into the fresh morning air.
"Good morning, Mother," he greeted.
Xia smiled gently and replied in kind, her voice tender and lovely, "Good morning, my dear."
She placed her hands on her hips, her half-awake eyes probing Kyorin with a teasing curl on her lips.
"Hmm, my son's up early today," she remarked.
Kyorin let out a small scowl. "Thanks to a certain salmon."
"Changli, was it?" Xia chuckled, then waved it off with a shrug. "Anyway, go on inside. I'll have tea ready soon."
Kyorin gave a short nod and moved past her, stepping toward the house. As he passed, DEVA—hung on his belt—quietly registered a timestamp in her internal log.
Borrowed Time: 89 days remaining.
The countdown continued, with no specific description apart from an image: a picture of Xia.
DEVA hesitated.
'Should I reveal it to him?' she wondered.
'What if he rejects it—or worse, what if he cannot accept it at all?'
Such thoughts tangled her judgment, and in the end, she chose silence.
All she could do was wait—and watch how things would unfold.
What made DEVA falter wasn't the fear that Kyorin wouldn't understand. Rather, it was uncertainty about how he would react.
Knowing him, she was certain of one thing: he never yearned for the presence of others. And yet, it was precisely because of his nature that she wavered.
Not out of concern that he would be indifferent, but because he might be overcome by grief—for it was only natural for a child to mourn the loss of a parent.
To DEVA, Kyorin resembled Lenz's Law: her expectations of his behavior would inevitably be met with a response, but not the one she anticipated.
He wouldn't oppose her predictions directly—but his reactions would take shape in ways she could neither predict nor fully describe. Things would happen, yes—but never in the sequence she pre-envisions.
Still, she had simply learned to live with it, recalling his words from their meeting a few moths ago: "DEVA, your rights end the moment you try to control what lies beyond your reach."
Perhaps she had burdened herself with too many expectations. Perhaps, over time, she'd even developed a subtle urge to sway Kyorin's path.
But she had come to understand—Kyorin was not someone who could be bent by words, deeds, or force.
And that realization brought her a strange sense of comfort. Her Resonator felt less like an extension of her will and more like a separate force—yet undeniably a part of her journey.
Time moved steadily on, and it was high noon, a prime time for hunting and scavenging. Wild rabbits and birds frequently roamed the ridges of Mount Firmament, foraging for food much like their human counterparts.
Although few predators made their home on Mount Firmament due to its harsh climate, the creatures that did dwell there had only two threats to fear: first, the Tacet Discords—and second, the humans.
*Squeak*
With a final, soft cry, the rabbit fell still. Changli crouched beside it, swiftly skinning it and collecting the materials into her terminal. She took a deep breath—time to return.
Stepping inside, she recalled the earlier defeat. Stinging as it was, something else occupied her mind. Her body—she could feel it. Something had changed.
What was it? No clue. Even Xuanmiao, wise as he was, couldn't explain it.
Her thoughts scattered. A sweet scent hit her. Nectarines. Her stomach growled. She didn't need to think twice. She moved faster, heading for the kitchen.
There, she found Xia rinsing a basket of nectarines. Xia noticed Changli eyeing the fruit with barely disguised hunger and gestured her over with a smile.
Handing her the basket, she said, "Share them with Kyorin, alright? These snow peaches are his favorite."
Changli nodded enthusiastically, thrilled to be entrusted with such a treat. She hurried toward Kyorin's room—only to find it empty.
She headed towards the courtyard, but again it was empty, apart form faint snoring noise. She gazed up before climbed to the rooftop where Xuanmiao was sleeping peacefully.
"Master," she whispered, barely a sound.
His eyes fluttered open. The scent reached him before anything else.
"Mmm... that smells good. One for me?" he mumbled.
She handed him a peach, then asked, "Have you seen Kyorin?"
Xuanmiao chewed, took his time. "He stepped out."
"Ah." Disappointment settled in her chest. "That's too bad."
Xuanmiao's gaze shifted. He studied her.
"What's wrong?" His voice was calm but sharp. He knew something was up.
Changli explained that Xia had asked her to share the snow peaches with Kyorin. Xuanmiao shrugged. "Well, then just wait for him."
Xuanmiao spat out the pit from the fifth peach, but as he reached for the sixth—the last one—Changli finally noticed the dwindling supply. She quickly stepped in to stop him.
"Master, you can't just eat them all!" she exclaimed.
Xuanmiao chuckled. "Haha, sorry about that."
He shifted to a more comfortable position, yawning as he quickly feel asleep.
Changli holding her urge to scream, looked over the final peach, sighed and returned the basket to the kitchen.
"Lady Dan," she said, her voice apologetic as she approached Xia, "I'm sorry, but Kyorin must have gone outside. I gave some to Master Xuanmiao, and now there are only one left."
Xia glanced at the basket, noting the small amount left. "It's alright, little Li. Don't be so upset."
"But you told me to share them, and I let Master eat almost all of them," Changli said, her voice faltering, and before she could stop herself, tears welled up. "Waah, I'm sorry!"
Xia smiled warmly, seeing the genuine regret in Changli's eyes. She placed the final peach in Changli's mouth. "Don't cry, dear. Here, have this."
Changli's eyes widened as the sweetness filled her mouth, but as Xia's gaze softened, she couldn't refuse. She swallowed the fruit.
As she finished the final remaining snow peach, a puzzled expression, she asked, "What about Kyorin?"
"Well, since he's late to the party, he doesn't get one," Xia said, her voice cutting through the air.
Then—bam!—a familiar voice broke the moment. "Get what?"
Changli yelped like a thief cat, and she turned around to find Kyorin standing with a inquisitive gaze.
Though unsure of what had happened, his nose caught the sweet scent as his eyes lit up.
"Snow peach?!"
The sound of his words made Changli shudder with guilt, but Xia quickly came to her defense. "Oh, Changli just ate one," Xia said with a shrug. "The final one."
"The final one?" Kyorin asked, his voice betraying a quiet disappointment.
Xia's face took on a dramatic flair. Placing her hands on her cheeks, closing her eyes as if to say, 'What can you do?' as she affirmed, "Yes, you are a bit late."
"NOOO!" Kyorin collapsed in exaggerated despair, making Changli feel even worse.
"I'm sorry... most of them were eaten by Master." She tried to explain, but the fact there had been more made Kyorin even more dejected.
Kyorin looked at her, his eyes empty. Changli, feeling even more remorseful, apologized again. "I'm so sorry."
Kyorin didn't notice her apology. His eyes—just a little too drawn, a little too focused—stayed on the bits of snow peach clinging to her lips.
"Scraps, it is," he muttered, wiping the crumbs from her mouth and slowly licking his fingers. The taste was sweet.
Changli froze, her face flushing at his boldness.
"Y-You really like them, huh?" she stammered.
Without concern for his image, Kyorin looked at her and said casually, "I want to lick them off."
Changli crossed her arms. "No, you can't just lick my face," she retorted.
Xia stepped in, her tone firm. "Kyorin, that's a no-go, dear."
Kyorin looked down, his shoulders slumping slightly. "Alright," he mumbled.
Xia sighed with a chuckle, amused by the exchange. Changli, still flustered, turned to her. "What's wrong, Lady Dan?"
Xia smiled softly, her eyes distant with a touch of nostalgia.
"Nothing," she said, "It just reminded me of how my little Kyorin used to lick my face when I ate something sweet, so he could taste it too."
Xia giggled at the memory, her thoughts sweet as the snow peaches. But just as she lost herself in the past, a voice from outside called, "Is anyone home?"
Xia turned toward the door, where a group of elders had arrived. One spoke first, their voices familiar. "The 'Moon Chasing Festival' is upon us."
To be continued...
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A/N: Yeah, sorry for the late chapter. Most of the earlier drafts had just become conversations without any meaningful progression, so here's a small chapter. I think it's about time I end this volume as well. Oh boy, be prepared for the next volume!