Shenjun's return meant Luofu had found a new pillar.
But it didn't wash away the gloom of Baiheng's departure—if anything, it turned into a heavier kind of responsibility, pressing down on Jing Yuan's still-young shoulders.
And at the same time, a question rose in everyone's mind:
If the Marshal truly couldn't keep Qingzhou, then how, exactly, had Shenjun been taken back?
No one had an answer.
Jing Yuan closed his eyes, forcing down the surging tide of power in his body—and the even more complicated emotions churning inside him.
He could feel it: his connection to this Xianzhou, to this land and sky, had never been so tight. It was as if he could stir the winds and clouds with a thought.
Yet this returning strength came alongside betrayal and loss. It was heavy. Mocking, even.
He opened his eyes and looked at Marshal Hua, asking the question everyone wanted to ask.
"Marshal… Shenjun—how did you retrieve it from Qingzhou?"
Hua's gaze was calm as still water. The answer she'd prepared slid out smoothly.
"He returned it voluntarily."
Just a few words—yet they struck the General's Residence like thunder.
"That's impossible!" Huaiyan rejected it outright. "A wolf-hearted traitor like that—how could he—"
Hua raised a hand, cutting off the rising clamor.
"The world isn't only black and white. Wei Qing… although he chose the Path of Destruction, he has not erased all of his past. Returning Shenjun may have been his final account to Luofu—to those three hundred years."
The explanation was still vague, still deliberately ambiguous.
Hua didn't describe the battle. She didn't explain Polka Kakamond's stance. She certainly didn't mention the hidden agreement reached on that barren planet.
She gave only the result—enough to invite endless speculation, but not enough to be pressed into the truth.
Jing Yuan clenched his fist.
He understood what the Marshal was doing.
She didn't want to—or couldn't—lay every truth on the table.
The implications were too high. Perhaps it involved the will of the Reignbow Arbiter. Perhaps it involved deeper games with the Silent Lord, even with the Stellaron Hunters.
To publicly acknowledge that the Xianzhou and an Emanator of Destruction had reached any sort of understanding would shatter the Alliance's authority.
This was political calculus.
And yet Jing Yuan felt no relief at all.
Then what about Baiheng?
What had Wei Qing said to her—what had he done—that could make her leave Luofu willingly?
Was it possible his earlier judgment hadn't been wrong after all… that the two of them really had fallen for each other?
Before he could untangle it, Hua spoke again.
"How we retrieved it is no longer important. What matters is the outcome."
She looked at Jing Yuan, voice steady, decisive.
"Externally, we will announce that Jing Yuan assumed command in crisis, awakened his potential amid the chaos, resonated with Shenjun, and reclaimed Luofu's inheritance from the traitor."
Everyone froze again.
Teng Xiao's brow locked tight. "Marshal, this—"
"This is the most suitable narrative." Hua cut him off without hesitation. "Shenjun's return, a new general's succession—Luofu needs a fact like this to stabilize hearts and unite will."
Her eyes rested on Jing Yuan, a gaze that carried both scrutiny and entrustment.
"Jing Yuan—can you bear the weight that comes with this reputation?"
Jing Yuan understood.
This wasn't just to protect the Xianzhou's face. It was also paving the road for him to take Luofu's generalship cleanly.
A successor who could reclaim Shenjun from a powerful traitor would inspire confidence—would rally the people after the turbulence.
As for Baiheng…
Within this official story, her departure could only be defined as being bewitched or abducted by Qingzhou through unknown means. Painful, yes—but it preserved the last shred of dignity for both her and Luofu.
When Jing Yuan saw it clearly, his chest felt suffocatingly tight.
He not only had to endure the agony of losing a friend—he had to wrap that agony in a different shape, and let it become the step-stone of his own ascent.
How bitter. How real.
He drew a deep breath, pressed down the storm inside him, and met the Marshal's eyes.
"Understood. I will not fail the Marshal's trust, nor Luofu's."
A faint hint of satisfaction flickered through Hua's eyes.
"Good."
She said no more. A wash of silver light gathered around her, and her figure faded—abrupt, like her arrival—leaving behind a roomful of people with tangled thoughts.
After the Marshal left, silence stretched even longer.
Teng Xiao and Huaiyan exchanged a glance, both seeing the same complexity in the other's eyes. They could guess there was more beneath the surface, but the Marshal's position was clear. As subordinates, they could only obey.
Besides, this arrangement truly was the most beneficial to Jing Yuan and Luofu.
Teng Xiao looked at Jing Yuan, his gaze layered—pride, worry, and a shared, aching grief.
He had once treated Wei Qing like a son. The frustration and fury in his heart were no less than Jing Yuan's.
But neither general asked further. They turned and left one after another—needing time to digest today's upheaval, and needing to carry out the Marshal's orders to stabilize Luofu.
After some hollow congratulations and listless courtesies, the others also began to leave the General's Residence.
In the end, only Jing Yuan and Yingxing remained.
"…Yingxing. Do you still need something?" Jing Yuan's voice was exhausted as he looked at the famed master artisan, who had stood there in iron-faced silence for a long time.
"I don't believe it," Yingxing said.
Jing Yuan fell quiet again.
What could he say? He didn't have an answer himself.
"The letter is in your hand," Jing Yuan said at last, weary. "The handwriting is real. The tone is Baiheng's. As for the Marshal…"
He paused, voice low.
"The Marshal's decision has her reasons. We… can only accept it."
"Accept?" Yingxing stepped forward sharply, his voice rising. "How do I accept it? That bastard Qingzhou ruined Jingliu, ruined our trust—and now even Baiheng…"
His voice caught for a moment. He forced the emotion down, but it still trembled.
"And now we have to tell the world you reclaimed Shenjun from him? What is that? A play? A farce?"
"It's not just a farce!" Jing Yuan snapped, sudden steel in his voice as he stared Yingxing down. "It's for Luofu. For stability!"
"Do you want everyone to know that a Luofu flight officer willingly ran off with an Emanator of Destruction? Do you want Luofu—fresh out of catastrophe—to drown again in suspicion and panic?"
Yingxing was forced still by Jing Yuan's intensity. He had no words—but the pain and refusal in his eyes didn't diminish.
Jing Yuan looked at him. His voice softened, but it was heavy with helplessness.
"Yingxing, I know you hurt. I do too. But the only thing we can do now is carry the responsibility."
"Luofu needs stability. It needs a new beginning. This empty glory—I have to shoulder it."
"As for Baiheng…" He hesitated, then continued.
"Whatever her reason for leaving, all we can do is follow the Marshal's arrangement and reduce the impact."
"…Maybe that's also a kind of protection for her."
"Protection?" Yingxing forced the word out through clenched teeth, thick with mockery. "Jing Yuan—since when did you learn to lie to yourself?"
"Enough." A short, bleak laugh. "Arguing… what's the point?"
Jing Yuan felt something shift in Yingxing's tone—something dangerous, hollow. A tightness seized his chest.
"Yingxing?"
Yingxing lifted his head. The eyes that had once gleamed with a craftsman's obsession were now clouded with ash.
He tugged at his mouth, a smile uglier than crying.
"Jing Yuan… you're not like me."
"Jingliu has a long life. Dan Feng is a Vidyadhara High Elder—rebirth, near-immortality."
"Baiheng… Baiheng has gone with him."
"And you—despite being older than me by so much—you're still in your prime."
His gaze drifted across the grand hall of the General's Residence, the heart of Luofu's power. His voice became so light it was like a sigh.
"And me?"
"I'm just a short-lived one."
"I'll grow old, Jing Yuan."
He paused. His eyes—already losing their light—fixed on Jing Yuan with cruel clarity, and he spoke the truth like a sentence carved in stone.
"…I'm already old."
"I'm going to die soon."
The hall fell into a deathly stillness.
Daylight spilled in through the windows, painting Jing Yuan's face suddenly pale.
He opened his mouth—but his throat felt strangled, no sound coming out.
How could he have forgotten?
Forgotten that this friend, this brilliant master artisan, was fundamentally different from them.
Jingliu had her Mara-struck risk, but she still had time.
Dan Feng would cycle through rebirth.
Baiheng—if Wei Qing truly carried the power of Abundance—granting her long life would not be difficult.
Only Yingxing.
Only the short-lived Yingxing, left behind.
For them, time might be long and vast.
For him, it was a sandglass that had been counting down all along.
He would wither, decline, become dust.
And they—would watch it happen, powerless.
Scenes from the Artisanship Commission flashed in Jing Yuan's mind: drinking, laughing, talking about mechanisms and impossible designs. Back then, they were young. They thought the future was endless.
And now—
A friend had betrayed them.
Another had left.
And the ones remaining didn't even share the same right to face "long years" together.
Yingxing saw the shock and pain on Jing Yuan's face. Strangely, he became calmer—too calm, like burned-out embers.
A bitter, self-mocking smile.
"So what does it matter to me—why Baiheng left, what the Marshal is thinking?"
"I'm going to die anyway."
"In your long lives, I'm nothing but a brief interlude that will fade."
Jing Yuan jerked forward as if to grab him, but his fingers cut through cold air.
"Yingxing!" His voice cracked with genuine panic. "Don't say that. Luofu needs you. The Commission needs you. We… we need you!"
"Need?" Yingxing repeated softly, like tasting something absurd. "Need me to keep forging weapons. Need me to maintain the star skiffs. Need me to—"
His voice dipped, sharp with pain.
"Need me to be a useful tool that will eventually break? To be replaced? To be forgotten?"
"You're not a tool!" Jing Yuan nearly roared, stepping in and gripping Yingxing's shoulder with a strength that made Yingxing's brow twitch. "You're our friend! Luofu's Master Artisan! You're—"
You're what?
The words jammed in his throat.
You're the Yingxing who used to stand by the forge with Wei Qing, eyes bright, arguing over blueprints.
You're the Yingxing who dragged them into dawn-drinking after forging a perfect blade.
You're the Yingxing who would leave first.
Helplessness crashed over Jing Yuan like ice water. The strength in his grip loosened, inch by inch.
Yingxing looked at the pain and powerlessness boiling in Jing Yuan's eyes, and suddenly it all felt empty.
Hurting Jing Yuan didn't soothe his own despair.
He gently pried Jing Yuan's hand away, stepping back, widening the distance.
"Jing Yuan… I thought I'd already accepted it."
"But now… now I don't want to die anymore."
"I want to see what the future actually looks like."
He turned away. His back in the vast hall looked unbearably lonely—like someone walking toward a predetermined end, a road that would never intersect with theirs again.
"Be a good general."
"Luofu… will be yours from now on."
Then, like a final request slipping into the silence:
"Take care of them… for me."
The door shut behind him with a heavy sound, as if sealing off two different worlds.
Jing Yuan stood frozen.
Yingxing's meaning was unmistakable.
He wanted to leave Luofu—to seek longevity.
What could Jing Yuan do?
Stop him?
He had received Shenjun. He had received the generalship.
And yet it felt like he'd lost everything.
Outside, Luofu's sky was still bright, as if nothing had happened.
But Jing Yuan knew: from today onward, everything was different.
He stood alone in the magnificent yet empty General's Residence.
After a long, long time, a choked sound finally broke in the silence—pressed down until it almost shattered.
"…I will."
He spoke to the empty hall, to the closed door, to his own torn heart—making a promise.
"I will…."
Join here to read ahead.
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Uma Musume: From Beginner 130
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Checking In in Demon Slayer 75
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Honkai's Otherworld? Wait—Who Are You People?! 36
Emiya Shirou, Determined to Slay Every Curse and Evil Spirit 35
The Uma Musume Who Became 30
I'm Definitely Not the King of 35
After Maxing Out Every Class 35
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