Interlude

"When Stars Weep"

Some say Heaven is perfect. Eternal. Still.

But those who have walked its golden bridges know... even gods tremble when old memories awaken.

Scene — Palace of Broken Silence, Heaven Realm

The sky above the Seventh Layer of Heaven was still. Too still.

Clouds hung frozen like paintings. Wind dared not breathe. The entire realm held its breath.

Within the Palace of Broken Silence, seven great elders stood in formation, each draped in starlight-forged robes, each older than mountains.

But only one was seated — in a throne of veined jade and sky-crystal:

Yun Ruo.

Her silver hair floated as if underwater. Her eyes were veiled behind a shimmering gauze. A tiny bell dangled from one ear.

She was not old.

She was not young.

She was simply… eternal.

Before her, a glowing jade mirror hovered — showing the mortal world below. In it, Lin Xun's image flickered: fighting, breathing, remembering.

One of the seven elders finally spoke.

"The Whispering Bell sounded, Venerable Yun. His soul has begun to stitch."

"Shall we begin Soul Extraction?"

Yun Ruo raised a hand.

Soft. Slender. Deadly.

"No."

Silence fell again.

"We wait," she said.

Another elder bristled. "If the child fully awakens the Heavenseed, it will breach the Accord of Three Realms!"

Yun Ruo rose slowly. Her feet didn't touch the floor — she glided across a ripple of air.

"And yet… what if that's what Heaven needs?"

The elders whispered among themselves.

She walked to the edge of the star-forged balcony and looked down — beyond the clouds, beyond the realms.

"I saw the future once," she whispered.

"And in that vision, the Sky cracked. Blood rained upward. And a boy stood alone at the mouth of the Sixth Gate."

She smiled.

"He wasn't Xu Tianheng."

"And he wasn't the child."

"He was something new."

She touched the bell on her ear. It chimed once — soundless, yet heard across creation.

"I wonder…" she said, almost to herself.

"Will he love me this time?"

Scene — Far Above, a Forgotten Star Trembles

In a part of the sky that no longer had a name, a sealed star pulsed once.

Just once.

As if a long-dead god stirred.

And then fell silent.

Waiting.