An hour later...
Rustle~
An hour later, the alpine winds carried a faint, haunting fragrance of snow lotus through the cherry blossom drifts, delicate white petals trembling like forgotten promises against the eternal snow.
It was a fragile miracle in this fractured realm, one that bloomed only when winter and fleeting spring collided in quiet snow.
Wang Xiao sat with his back against the cold rock, legs stretched out, Shuangshuang nestled between them like a fragile porcelain doll.
Her small frame pressed warm against his chest, yet the silence between them had grown heavy, with the ghosts of old scars.
He exhaled slowly, staring at the distant, unchanging mountains.
The taste of Zhae'Kyrra's broken submission lingered on his tongue like bitter ash from a forgotten altar.
A necessary cruelty.
A fleeting release.
Or was it?
