Epilogue: A Beautiful Dream

“Yuanji… Before heaven and earth were formed, fate had already bound you and me. My love for you is not born of feeling, nor desire, but of the Path itself. Not even a thousand cycles of rebirth could erase this memory. As long as you exist, I breathe. If you vanish, then I vanish as well. I love you—not by my will, but by the mandate of heaven. And no human heart can change it. At least… that is what I would have said, if I had the chance. Forgive me.”
War’s dust rose high against the horizon as two armies faced each other across the valley. Amidst the sea of fluttering banners and the roar of soldiers, two figures stepped into the center, wrapped in a silence that hung like twilight before a storm.
Han Zhi recognized that silhouette before it drew close. Wang Yuanji.
They were born of the same world, yet now stood on opposing sides. In tense silence, they approached—not as lovers, not as friends, but as adversaries. And yet, their souls knew… no sword in this world could sever the unseen thread between them.
Their blades met.
The clash of steel rang out, but their gazes were sharper than any weapon. Time and again, Han Zhi held back strikes that could have drawn blood. And Yuanji? She moved like a wind that remembered, not one that hated.
In the midst of that strange battle—more a mournful dance than a true duel—Yuanji suddenly halted. She looked deep into Han Zhi’s eyes and spoke softly, her voice tinged with sorrow:
“If we were on the same side… I would never leave you.”
Han Zhi said nothing. His breath was ragged, yet his chest felt tighter from her words than from the strain of battle.
She lowered her gaze briefly, then continued:
“Because we cannot truly be together… I cannot embrace you, kiss you, or stand beside you in this fight. So… give me something. Anything. As a token of this meeting.”
Han Zhi removed an ornament from his robe—a simple strip of red silk, yet it glimmered in the dust and fading light.
Yuanji accepted it, her eyes softening.
“Why red?” she asked quietly.
Han Zhi gave a faint smile.
“Because it means… I’ve found the most precious person in my life.”
She looked at him, then teased gently:
“But… that’s the only ornament left on your robe.”
Han Zhi nodded. “Because the person I love… is only one.”
Yuanji smiled, a small laugh slipping into her voice.
“Just admit it—you chose it because it’s the odd one out, and you wanted to get rid of it.”
“Eh… uh… that’s not it!” Han Zhi stammered, and the two of them laughed amidst the shadows of war.
A laughter that had no place on a battlefield, yet could not be stopped—the laughter of two souls who had known each other before the world tore them apart.
When the moment came for them to part, Han Zhi took a deep breath.
“Then… I’ll be going.”
He turned briefly, meeting those eyes one last time.
“And don’t forget my promise… I will return. To save you.”
Yuanji only nodded slowly, clutching the red ornament tightly.
“Don’t take too long… I’ll be waiting.”
And so Han Zhi walked away, vanishing into the shadows of war, while that small streak of red remained in the hands of the woman he could never have in this world… but would always protect in the world of his soul.