One day, as usual, Xie Lian had collected a large pile of junk. He heaped it high on a cart pulled by an ox—both of which Xie Lian had recently saved for and purchased—and guided it up the mountain.
When he had driven halfway up the path that passed through the maple forest, Xie Lian turned and saw some glimmering lights in the night sky. As he stared, it dawned on him—they were Blessings Lanterns of Everlasting Light.
“So, it’s the Shangyuan Festival today,” he murmured to himself.
Right now, the heavenly officials of the Upper Court were probably having another lantern battle. Despite himself, Xie Lian pulled the reins and stopped where he was to watch the Blessings Lanterns in a daze.
As he did, he recalled that he and Hua Cheng had first met during Shangyuan.
That year, a small child with a battered, filthy face squeezed through the swarming crowd and looked down from the city wall. The seventeen-year-old Crown Prince of Xianle was glowing. He looked up and saw a figure falling, and without thinking, leapt into the air.
The auspicious Shangyuan Festival on the Grand Avenue of Divine Might, and the awe-inspiring first impression that had led to centuries of pining…
A smile hung on Xie Lian’s face as he reflected on the past. In the end, Hua Cheng wasn’t the only one who’d fallen.
Turning around, Xie Lian bowed his head and continued up the mountain path. The cart clattered and creaked as it rolled along, and as he went, the path seemed to get brighter. There was light coming from somewhere far ahead.
Xie Lian lifted his head once more, his eyes widening.
The light was from lanterns.
Like millions of fish swimming through gorges to the sea, countless Blessings Lanterns drifted languidly from the mountain peak. They glowed and shimmered brilliantly against the black night. A magnificent, beautiful dream had brightened his path.
Xie Lian had seen this sight before. Now that he was seeing it again, his breath and heartbeat nearly stopped. He came to a bend on the mountain path, and the wheels spun as the cart turned. The little dilapidated cottage he had built came into view.
And someone was there.
A man clad in red stood before the crooked little cottage. His figure was tall and slender, and a silver scimitar hung at his waist. He had his back to Xie Lian while he lifted and sent off the last Blessings Lantern, which took to the skies on a meandering path.
Frozen in his seat, Xie Lian wondered if he was still in a dream, wondered if this was a hallucination. The cart’s wheels turned, bringing him closer and closer. The man spun around, and in Xie Lian’s sight, his face grew clearer and clearer.
Three thousand Blessings Lanterns rose into the night behind the man who had turned to gaze at him. Robes redder than maple, skin as white as snow. A face so handsome that one couldn’t bear to stare for long. There was still a wildness about him and a feral aura on his brow—and a pride that could never be felled.
Although he wore a black eyepatch, his remaining eye was as bright as the stars above as he gazed unblinkingly at Xie Lian.
Xie Lian scrambled down.
There were no words. They both started walking toward each other.
One step, another step, each one faster than the last. Then, finally, they started running.
As he ran forward, tears fell and were left behind.
In his heart, Xie Lian swore it once more: I believe.
He believed this man would die for him again and again and would be reborn for him over and over; even if he fell into the depths of hell, he would break through the abyss in the name of his faith.
Last time, they spent eight hundred years running toward each other.
This time, it only took an instant to fall into each other’s embrace.