Death's Bloom

The streets were still waking when Feng Jiao Xue stepped out of the inn, Mo Tianze falling into step beside her.

The morning light was thin, the air cold enough to sink into her bones. It scattered in long shadows across cracked stone and battered rooftops, giving everything a worn, tired look, as if even the city itself had barely survived the night.

She should've gone alone.

Every instinct told her that. Investigate the strange plant before anyone else stumbled across it. Strike while the trail was still warm. But she hadn't. She couldn't.

She'd stayed by his side instead, day after day, night after night, watching over him while his qi raged and burned and tried to tear him apart from the inside.

And now, even though Mo Tianze stood beside her, steady on his feet, his golden eyes clear again, she still didn't want to leave him behind.

Maybe she was being foolish. Maybe she didn't care.