Secrets in the dead of night

Elowen's gaze urged silence, a wordless nod encouraging Yang Mei to continue.

"He changed." The words slipped out, heavy with bitterness. "My father, who was once strict but fair, became… strange. He started treating us like fragile porcelain, with a suffocating love. At the same time, he neglected his role as leader. All he did was cultivate, obsessively. It was as if he buried himself in cultivation, trying to escape an unbearable reality."

Elowen nodded slowly, her understanding a quiet bridge to the turmoil Yang Mei struggled to voice.

The two stood beneath the night's dark veil, where pain and beauty wove together in the shadows. Memories and secrets mingled with the moon's gentle light, casting a glow that felt both tender and haunting.

Silence fell again, thick with unspoken truths, as echoes of the past lingered, shaping the present for these wounded souls still seeking solace in the night's embrace.

"And the others? Your brothers?" Elowen asked, her voice as soft as a breeze brushing the stillness.

Yang Mei offered a faint, fragile smile before answering: "Yang Jian, the second eldest, was always the balance amidst the chaos. He suffered in silence, more than we realized. After Yang Hao died, Jian stayed in the Dao Holy Land as an external elder. He said he wanted to distance himself from the family's intrigues, but I know… he just didn't want to watch our father unravel completely."

She sighed, her gaze drifting to memories that seemed carved from another time. "Then came my third brother, the current patriarch. The most talented of us all. He never wanted that burden, you know? But his talent was so extraordinary that the rest of us became irrelevant. Now, he carries the weight of the entire family."

Elowen's brow furrowed as she tilted her head toward Yang Mei. "And you? Where do you fit into this tangled web of destinies?"

Yang Mei let out a laugh laced with irony, a bitter chuckle at fate's cruel jest. "I'm the fourth, the only daughter. I was pampered, of course, as if that could fill the void left by Hao's loss. But I soon realized it was just a fleeting illusion. Then came the youngest, Yang Kai. He was born when I was nearly grown. It's as if destiny gave him to us to fill a hole that, deep down, we know certain losses can never erase."

A heavy silence settled between them. The wind grew colder, carrying the weight of their words, making the air feel almost solid. At last, Elowen's voice broke through, resonating under the vast sky: "You carry so much… more than you should."

Her tone held a thread of empathy, perhaps even a shared sorrow. Yang Mei raised her eyes, determination flickering alongside pain in their silver depths. "We all carry something, Elowen. That's how we survive. But the real question is: what do we do with that weight?" she said, her resolve softened by the warmth of sincere counsel.

Elowen watched her in silence, her expression an unreadable mask, while the boundless sky seemed to beckon with the night's hidden truths.

The chill wind swirled around them, stirring faint ripples in the clouds, as if they stood at the edge of two worlds. Their silhouettes, framed against the moon's pale glow, whispered tales of anguish, hope, and quiet surrender. Elowen's silver gaze lingered on Yang Mei, reflecting a distant, almost untouchable realm below. Yang Mei, her face half-lit by moonlight, bore the burden of ages, yet her calm demeanor radiated a strength that turned suffering into wisdom.

Will we ever find peace from this weight? Elowen wondered, the night's shroud holding close the answers they still chased.

"I'm sorry," Elowen said, her voice slicing through the quiet with rare, heartfelt concern. "I had no idea you'd been through such a… sad story."

Yang Mei smiled, a gesture tinged with soft melancholy—acceptance rather than solace. "It's all right," she replied, her voice steady yet weary, as if time had smoothed her edges. "Everyone has their regrets. Painful stories shape who we are."

Elowen hesitated, words catching in her throat. She rarely felt unsteady, but Yang Mei's presence stirred something—a sense of standing before a force beyond the tangible. Before she could respond, Yang Mei pointed toward the horizon, where a small structure emerged, cloaked in shadows and faint glimmers.

"We're getting close to my courtyard," Yang Mei said, turning to Elowen with a playful spark in her eyes, briefly lifting the weight of their exchange. "And don't be fooled—it's not as luxurious as you might imagine, but it has its own charm."

Elowen arched an eyebrow, a sly smile curving her lips. "And you? Is there someone who's captured your heart in that cozy courtyard?"

Yang Mei's short, genuine laugh broke the lingering tension, its echo a fleeting balm. "Nothing like that," she said, her tone light yet firm. "My only goal is to pursue the Heavenly Dao. I don't have time for distractions."

But Elowen pressed on, her eyes narrowing with a teasing, almost predatory edge. "Don't lie to me, Yang Mei," she challenged, her voice dripping with playful provocation. "With so many talented geniuses popping up, I'm sure at least one of them caught your eye. Come on, admit it. Who is it?"

For a moment, silence hung between them, Yang Mei's gaze flickering with a mix of bashfulness and guarded secrets. The twilight painted their world in hues of dream and reality, poised on the cusp of a new chapter where fate and longing intertwined as enigmatically as the Heavenly Dao itself.

Yang Mei met Elowen's stare, her eyes narrowing with a blend of amusement and defiance. After a deliberate pause, she smirked. "Not really, Elowen. Unlike you, who lived in the Dao Holy Land surrounded by geniuses, I've never been so impressionable," she said, her voice calm but edged with a subtle taunt. "You must have had your share of promising young men, right? Maybe it was you who captured someone's heart?"

Elowen's laugh was low and melodic, yet shadowed by a hint of bitterness. She turned her gaze to the horizon, lost in thoughts she kept locked away. "Don't underestimate me, Yang Mei," she replied, her tone cool and faint, heavy with buried truths. "I don't like trouble. I've always been below average, you know? There were few options for someone like me. And even when there were options, my pride wouldn't let me accept anything less than what I deserved."

Yang Mei raised an eyebrow, caught off guard by Elowen's raw honesty. Rather than push further, she simply smiled—a knowing, wordless gesture. "Maybe destiny has different plans for the two of us," she said at last, her voice serene yet layered with mystery. "Who knows? Perhaps one day you'll realize that pride can be both a weakness and a strength."

Elowen said nothing, letting the silence stretch between them. It was a dense quiet, thicker than the wind that wrapped around them, yet it carried an unspoken bond—a connection beyond words. As they neared Yang Mei's courtyard, the tension lingered, but something new blossomed: a mutual recognition, a tie forged between souls haunted by their own pasts.

Beneath a star-strewn sky, with the night as their silent witness, they pressed forward. Each bore the weight of her life, yet in that fleeting moment, they found a quiet comfort in one another. Amid stifled laughter and murmured truths, fate seemed to offer a reprieve—a whisper that even in darkness, shared understanding could light the way.

The wind cut through the air around them, their levitation lending an illusion of peace, though their hearts knew the sighs beneath it all. Yang Mei turned, her eyes glinting with curiosity and a mischievous edge. "Tell the truth, Elowen," she said, her voice soft yet piercing. "You lived alongside geniuses, but not just any geniuses. You grew up with him, the myth that shouldn't even exist. A being so absurd that even destiny hesitated to create him. And you're telling me that never, not even for a moment, did you want to claim him for yourself? Never wanted to seize him for your own destiny?"

She leaned closer, her gaze locked on Elowen's, daring her to dodge the question.

Elowen remained poised, her eyes shimmering with an enigma. After a brief pause, she shrugged, as if the matter were beneath her notice. But her voice, when it came, was low and firm, weighted with truth. "It's not impossible," she said, each word sharp with candor. "But I don't like competing. He…" She closed her eyes briefly, choosing her words with care. "He had a charisma that drew any woman into his orbit. It was as if, around him, the world ceased to exist. But me? I was just another in the crowd—a servant, perhaps—never a candidate for his heart."

Yang Mei's brow arched, intrigued by the detached precision in Elowen's tone—a cold unraveling of something she found impossible to overlook. "And why? What made you so different from all the others?" she pressed, her voice deepening with earnest curiosity.

Elowen's sigh was faint but carried the burden of centuries. Her gaze fixed on the horizon, peering into something beyond mortal grasp. "Because I knew," she said, her voice icy yet woven with aching melancholy. "He saw my talent, even when I myself doubted it. For some reason, he wanted me by his side, despite me being considered 'useless' in cultivation. Maybe because he saw what no one else did. But that… that doesn't matter. I was never so weak in spirit as to accept that kind of attention."

Deep down, do we all crave something that sets us apart, even if it's just a mirror of others' hopes? Elowen mused, the wind whispering secrets only the night could hold.

Yang Mei crossed her arms, suspicion sharpening her stare. "And you never… felt anything for him?"

Elowen's laugh was brief and hollow, almost chilling. "Never," she said, swift and sure. "No matter how irresistible he was to others. My soul… it's unique. Pure, in a way that made him harmless to me. He could only have me if he used force." Her eyes flashed with a dark intensity, and in a whisper that rumbled like thunder, she added, "And no one can take me by force while I'm at the mercy of destiny."

Her words hung in the air, and a thought flickered through Elowen's mind, unvoiced: I am more than this. I am the weaver of fate, the thread that binds all. Even he couldn't command that.

Yang Mei laughed, a playful note undercut by unease, as if Elowen's intensity had thickened the air. "You didn't need to be so dramatic," she said, easing the mood. "Ah, we've arrived."

Elowen glanced down, the courtyard taking shape in the moonlight. It was small but held a subtle beauty—every stone and plant placed with purpose, a reflection of its owner's will. Yet its simplicity bore a quiet melancholy, a cozy haven tinged with solitude.

With gentle steps, Elowen landed beside Yang Mei, her feet brushing the polished stone where the air felt rich with the echoes of generations. She took in the space quietly, her mind still tangled in their conversation.

"It's beautiful," she murmured, her voice soft as a breath. "Small, but beautiful."

Yang Mei's smile was warm, though exhaustion shadowed it. "It's not much, but it's mine," she said, turning to Elowen, her eyes alight with a fire that belied her calm. "And you? Are you ready to face what comes next, or will you keep hiding behind destiny?"

Elowen lingered in silence, letting it answer for her. A soft breeze passed between them, carrying secrets only the night could fathom.