Chapter 38: Selfish

Sight sank into black—but her soul stayed awake, tossing in tangled thought.
Xi Yue.
One glimpse in a dream of what came after the immortal war—and she could never forget the name.
Bai Yanci’s lover in the moon palace. A thousand years together there.
After the war Xi Yue sacrificed to mend the Spirit Tide jade pendant—consciousness and soul became part of the artifact.
About Bai Yanci—details she’d stumbled on or deliberately ignored—suddenly clear now.
Those dim looks in the dark. Tokens exchanged with weight. Promises of forever with something else underneath. Even risking life without hesitation—now they seemed to have answers.
Truth lay before her—but she was sure she wasn’t anyone’s shadow or stand-in.
Whenever Bai Yanci looked at her, the name on her lips, the soul in her eyes—had always been her alone.
Still—at Qixie, Bai Yanci’s reflex had been Xi Yue, not Yi Ke. Her chest tightened.
Even if she shared Xi Yue’s soul she didn’t remember those lives. She wasn’t Xi Yue.
She was only Yi Ke. Could only be Yi Ke.
Consciousness finally rose. She woke in the familiar room.
Human body—but fallen-god soul was the artifact’s best vessel. Besides exhaustion, no ill feeling.
She reached beside her—empty. Bai Yanci gone again.
Deep night—where would Bai Yanci go?
Bai Yanci always buried things inside. Even the closest person rarely heard her heart.
A thousand years ago toward Xi Yue—the same toward her now.
Bai Yanci had hidden spiritual-flame breath. Yi Ke closed her eyes, tried the green-silk ring—and located the Ability Bureau.
After she passed out had the bureau made trouble—was that why Bai Yanci went?
Her heart clenched. No delay—straight to the bureau.
At the bureau gate she hid her form aside—didn’t enter rashly.
Cold wind on the way had cooled the panic. Thoughts cleared.
Bai Yanci was a great immortal. However skilled bureau humans were, they couldn’t hurt an immortal.
She needn’t have rushed—instinct had drowned sense. What she should think about was why Bai Yanci came to the bureau.
By the ring’s fix Bai Yanci was inside the bureau building now.
The first guess collapsed. New questions piled on.
Why the bureau? How was Bai Yanci tied to them?
The more she thought the more afraid—every time Bai Yanci left her side, did she come here in secret? Had Bai Yanci made a deal?
She’d never hidden Mu from Bai Yanci. Their relation was vicious. Bai Yanci knew—couldn’t be involved with those people.
Yes. It had to be. It wouldn’t.
But without answers she couldn’t be sure. Unease wouldn’t leave.
Just as she decided to slip in she saw Bai Yanci walk out of the bureau slowly.
Bai Yanci’s steps were calm. Two bureau people saw her off personally.
She recognized them—not Mu’s people—the bureau chief’s close aides.
The comfort she’d built for herself shattered like mist.
She didn’t know whether to be glad or sad.
At least Bai Yanci wasn’t with Mu’s crowd.
Suddenly glad—glad she had strong power now.
Otherwise hiding here Bai Yanci would have sensed her—no dignity left to choose.
At least she’d found out—still room between them.
She couldn’t lie to herself anymore. Bai Yanci coming to the mortal world wasn’t only fleeing immortal warrants—there was another purpose.
Hidden well. When Yi Ke didn’t know, Bai Yanci could go out and finish what she needed.
Too far, too dark—she couldn’t read Bai Yanci’s face.
At the door the bureau people seemed to say more—bowed—and Bai Yanci gave them something before leaving on immortal power.
She beat Bai Yanci home, leaned by the door, waited.
A long wait before familiar steps.
When Bai Yanci opened the door she spoke: “Sister, it’s so late—where did you go?”
Cold on Bai Yanci from outside, keys in hand—some surprise.
She watched Bai Yanci set a fine bunch of pink roses on the table. Her lover asked soft: “You’re awake? Why not sleep more?”
“You weren’t here. I wanted to wait.” She looked at roses that appeared from nowhere; her eyes dimmed. “It’s freezing out. You only went for flowers?”
Last chance for Bai Yanci.
Bai Yanci kept her head down—didn’t meet her eyes, didn’t see her dark look—gentle as always: “It’s fine. Just a walk. Passed a flower shop, roses were nice, brought some back.”
Jintian had many twenty-four-hour florists. She knew the tag on the stems—one of those shops. Careful work.
The more careful, the colder she felt inside.
Normally roses from Bai Yanci would make her happy—not now.
She smiled like usual anyway, took Bai Yanci’s hand natural—and at once rolled up her sleeve.
A deep wound on the wrist.
“Ke-ke!” Bai Yanci cried, tried to pull back. She was ready—held tight.
Looking at the cut, tears rose. Heartache and grievance together.
“Spirit Tide jade pendant’s breath—this wound came from the pendant!” Voice lifted. “So bad—why hide it from me? Am I someone you can’t trust?”
Bai Yanci shook her head. “The phantom was strong. I was careless—that’s all. Not a big matter.”
“But it’s an artifact. Artifact wounds don’t heal easy.”
“No matter.” Bai Yanci covered the wound again. “Only a phantom—not the true power. A few days and it’ll mend.”
Since Bai Yanci said so she didn’t press—and didn’t mention the bureau.
Poke through now and Bai Yanci would have tight excuses—act more careful after.
Then truth would be harder to find.
She shifted tone, voice heavy: “I dreamed of Jade Dust.”
“Jade Dust?” Bai Yanci asked fast. “What about Jade Dust?”
“You’re that eager to know?”
Bai Yanci answered natural: “Of course. If we learn her true identity we can take the pendant back and return it to the moon.”
“After you get it—will you really give it back to the moon palace?” She raised a brow casual—but watched Bai Yanci’s face close.
“Of course. The pendant was a moon god’s artifact. When I recover it I’ll send it back and restore Spirit Tide Pool.” Tone even, eyes on hers. “Ke-ke, why do you ask like that?”
“Nothing.” She put out the light. “I only thought you hated the moon so much you wouldn’t serve that ruler again.”
She didn’t tell the dream. Bai Yanci didn’t speak long either.
She closed her eyes beside her and played asleep.
After a long while she heard Bai Yanci soft: “True—I hate the moon. I hate the one on the throne in the great hall.”
“But next to you, what is that hate? If you hate, I hate with you. If you let go, I won’t count the past.” A sigh. “Pity your divine consciousness isn’t whole—you’ve forgotten all of it.”
Bai Yanci’s tone turned lonely: “Xi Yue, I don’t want you to find those memories back—but I want you to remember me. One day I hope you can forgive my selfishness.”
The words moved her. Emotion stirred—but she lay still, breath even, afraid Bai Yanci would see.
Of course Bai Yanci hated the moon—the moon’s Lord was why Xi Yue died.
She didn’t know how she lived in a human body as Xi Yue—but Bai Yanci had truly borne separation.
She didn’t know when she slept.
When she woke Bai Yanci had breakfast on the table—and two fine bunches of pink roses beside it.
She meant it: “Your flower arranging is beautiful—better than any florist.”
In art Bai Yanci always reached perfect, extreme.
“An old friend taught me.” Bai Yanci trimmed stems careful, eyes bright. “She said art isn’t only for the eyes—you have to feel it with the heart.”
Sun-Moon Cup finals were tomorrow—her head ached.
Lucky inspiration had come early. She’d started the piece long ahead—mostly done—could still make the deadline.
She opened the Cup site judges page. First name listed—Yang Yufei.