The Jester and Lady Zhiguang moved away into the distance.

The Windstill national ruler lay alone, waiting quietly for the end.

Lady Zhiguang had not struck the killing blow. The Jester had no interest in doing it either. Any blind person could see there was no saving him now — not a god descending from the heavens could restore what had been destroyed. Why give him a quick death when the slow kind cost nothing?

Before she left, Lady Zhiguang shed one tear.

Everything the Windstill national ruler had done for her — all of it — had been repaid with that single drop, of uncertain origin.

“Ha. What a magnificent fool.” The Jester’s laugh was a cold, unpleasant thing. He kept laughing as he drifted away, his shadow moving like a bat through the space, until he was gone.

Lady Zhiguang did not look back.

She walked away without turning her head once, as though the man lying on the ground behind her were someone she had never met.

The Windstill national ruler watched her go. He looked at her retreating figure the way a person looks at the most precious thing they have ever owned — even now, even like this, unwilling to spare a single second of it. He watched until she and the Jester had completely vanished from sight, until there was nothing left to look at. Then he drew his gaze back, let out a quiet breath, and slowly closed his eyes. He waited for death without any struggle.

Yue Yang arrived like smoke settling from the air — his footsteps raising not a particle of dust. Behind him came Aman, Hong, Ika, Duoduo, the chilong girl Jiang Ying, and even the dragon sisters Yao and Yu.

He had assembled nearly everything he had for the coming battle with the Solar King.

When Aman and the others saw Yue Yang stop for the Windstill national ruler, they arranged themselves naturally into a quiet line behind him.

Only Xiao Wenli, who had met the Windstill national ruler before, came forward with Yue Yang — giving the dying man a brief, curious look. Yue Yang crouched down and met his eyes.

“I don’t understand why you chose this,” he said, without any pretense. “But I respect that you did. If there’s anything left undone — anything I’m able to do — I don’t mind lending a hand.”

“Thank you, young lord Titan. You are a real friend.” The Windstill national ruler shook his head slowly, a faint smile crossing his face. “There is nothing I regret. Dying like this — I am at peace.”

“Even after what she did to you?” Yue Yang asked, genuinely baffled.

“She betrayed me. But I don’t blame her.” A long, quiet exhale. “Whatever she does — my heart loves her just the same.”

“You really are a complete fool.” Princess Qianqian had descended from somewhere above them, and she made no effort to hide her opinion. “A woman like that deserves a whip across her back, not devotion. The more you give someone like her, the worse off you are.”

“In most people’s eyes, I suppose so.” The Windstill national ruler’s voice was mild. “But only I know what it feels like from the inside. Love — true love — doesn’t keep score. It doesn’t ask for anything back. Even though she betrayed me, even though she did things that make every reasonable person look away — my heart loves her still.” He paused. “I’m not sure Yue Yang hasn’t just keeled over.”

Yue Yang had, in fact, nearly fallen over sideways. My friend, he thought, you are the ruler of a domain in the Tianhua region — a man who should be hard-hearted, ruthless, treating women like objects. How did you end up like this?

“Your love has no logic and no value,” Princess Qianqian said flatly.

“Yes. That’s true. I accept that entirely.” The Windstill national ruler smiled. There was a brightness in his face now — the brief, strange clarity that sometimes came at the very end. His voice had grown stronger, not weaker. “In the years before, I treated women as objects. No matter how beautiful, they were toys to me — useful or useless, nothing more. Less valuable than livestock, in some ways. And then one day I met Zhiguang. It was as though something struck my heart directly and took it captive, with no possibility of resistance.”

“At first I refused to admit it was love. I told myself it was the Prayer Pearl on her forehead — a quasi-divine artifact affecting my judgment. I even considered killing her, to restore myself to the way I had been. Cold. Hard. Unmoved. But I couldn’t hold out against what I felt. The moment I saw her face, her eyes — I surrendered completely.” He breathed. “I knew, even then, that a woman like her couldn’t be without a past. I knew someone at my level might not be able to hold her future. But what did it matter? I made a promise to myself: even if I only had her for one day, even for one second, I would fight for it. Whatever she was, wherever she came from — as long as she was willing, I would spend every day finding ways to make her smile.”

“I had considered this outcome long before it arrived. I knew how my story would likely end.” A soft exhale. “I don’t regret it. I genuinely don’t regret it.”

“Given the chance to choose again — I would choose to love like this once more.”

“I knew I couldn’t keep her forever. But having loved her at all — that’s enough for me.”

“The ruthless man I used to be — the one who treated women like playthings — he looked powerful from the outside. Content. But he was hollow inside. And this fool lying on the ground, betrayed by the woman he loves, waiting to die, with nothing to show for it and no regret — his heart is full.”

Yue Yang and Princess Qianqian stood in a silence that surprised them both.

They genuinely hadn’t expected it.

This apparently foolish Windstill national ruler.

Understood true love.

He had given everything for what lived in his heart — including his life. In most people’s reckoning, that was absurd and pitiable. But measured purely against what love asked of a person, there was no question: this man would have made a good husband.

Yue Yang found he had a genuine respect for the Windstill national ruler, even as his mouth formed an argument. He couldn’t quite let it go: “Sacrifice for love — that’s one thing, if the love goes both ways. But her? She gave you nothing. This was entirely one-sided. I’ll say it plainly — Zhiguang never loved you.”

It was a harsh thing to say. Yue Yu, who had arrived quietly behind her brother, felt the bluntness of it and reached forward to pull gently at his sleeve — don’t pour salt into a dying man’s wound.

The Windstill national ruler only smiled. “I know. Zhiguang doesn’t love me. I’m not genuinely foolish — I could feel where her heart was. But young lord Titan — who decided that love must go both ways? If it does, that’s wonderful. But if she doesn’t love me back, I can still love her — can’t I? I love her whether she loves me or not.” He paused. “I don’t entirely know why. Maybe it’s what you Sky Tower people call fate. Maybe I owe her something from a past life. Whatever it is — I know my heart. It has always loved her deeply, regardless of what she did before or what she has done today. She never once told me she loved me — so she never lied to me. I was simply loving her from one side. Before she left, she shed one tear. I know it was real. She doesn’t love me. I was never her choice, never her destination. But she didn’t ignore what I gave her either. She simply couldn’t give back what you’re calling mutual love.”

“You absolute idiot,” Yue Yang said, with something that was almost admiration buried under the exasperation. “She bought your life with one tear.”

“You have a point,” Princess Qianqian said slowly. “But I don’t think love should be what you’re describing.”

“That’s because you and young lord Titan love each other deeply — both of you, equally.” The Windstill national ruler’s voice was gentle, without any bitterness. “Not everyone in the world gets to have what you have. Some people, like me, love quietly, while the one they love belongs to someone else. A perfect love is still love. An imperfect love is still love. I envy you both — but I can’t demand that Zhiguang love me back the way you love young lord Titan.”

“You should have told her,” Yue Yu said softly. Something in this conversation had moved her in a way she didn’t entirely understand. “Told her how deeply you loved her. Why not say it directly?”

“If she wanted to know — she would know.” The Windstill national ruler coughed. His time was nearly up.

“Is that — is that really how it works?” Something shifted in Yue Yu’s chest. She thought of her own carefully kept feelings, held quiet for so long, and felt her heart accelerate with sudden alarm — if someone wanted to know, they would know — and the heat rose to her face before she could stop it. She stepped quickly behind Princess Qianqian, hoping no one had seen.

“Is there really nothing I can do?” Yue Yang asked, one final time.

“Nothing. Having a friend like you to see me off — I’m already happy.” A brief pause. “If I have one regret — it’s that I wasn’t excellent enough. Wasn’t strong enough. Couldn’t become what Zhiguang needed.” His voice was fading now, thread-thin. “If I were half as outstanding as you are, young lord Titan — maybe she would have loved me instead of someone else.” A breath. “Though I could see it, even if she tried to hide it — she would sometimes glance toward Ming Rihao when she thought no one was watching. Perhaps the right person for her, the truly right one, is him. Young lord Titan — if you want to do something for me — spare her life. Let her live well. The happiness I couldn’t have — let her…”

He didn’t finish.

He was gone.

But Yue Yang understood what the last words would have been.

Even knowing his beloved’s heart had never belonged to him — this fool of a Windstill national ruler felt no jealousy. Only a wish, given with his last breath, that the person he loved might be happy.

Yue Yang stood quietly for a long moment. Something the dying man had said had moved through him and settled somewhere deep.

What is true love?

This foolish, dying man had just answered it.

True love has no price. True love sets no conditions. True love needs no reason. True love — is the kind that sacrifices everything for the beloved, and blesses them while doing it.

Princess Qianqian stepped forward and took his hand in hers — her fingers quiet around his. She rarely showed her feelings openly in front of others. But in this moment, she wanted him to know: what he had was something just as precious, and more complete. Because theirs ran both ways.

The Windstill national ruler’s body slowly dissolved under the Law-force of this space. Like Blue Wolf before him, the force of his will in his final moments had condensed his energy into a crystalline form — a rare and nameless thing: a Heart of True Love.

Yue Yang picked it up. Aman handed him the second crystal — Blue Wolf’s Heart of Repentance. He held both for a moment, then sighed.

“Why is it that perfectly living people insist on choosing to leave? Death might be a release, but it’s also one of the most irresponsible choices a person can make. You two died very dramatically and left me standing here with a pile of problems. I really should be more careful about who I make friends with.”

Yue Yu startled at this — worried suddenly, deeply, that the weight of what he’d witnessed had struck something vulnerable in him. She threw her arms around him from behind, pressing her face against his back.

“Xiao San — don’t think like that. We’ll always be here with you. Don’t ever — don’t ever think about —”

Yue Yang hadn’t expected her to take it so seriously. He’d meant it as a joke.

He turned and saw that her eyes had reddened.

He felt genuinely bad. He said nothing, only wrapped his arm around her and Princess Qianqian both, holding them close — letting the embrace answer instead.

Then Hong, Aman, Duoduo, and Jiang Ying all came running, arms open, piling in—