Inside Fukun Xueyuan, the corridors were desolate, filled only with the hollow whistling of the wind. Icy clouds hung heavy in the sky, yet not a single flake of snow fell. Amidst this chilling silence, a momentous arrival occurred at the main gates. It was none other than Grandmaster Gongzhang Duan himself, accompanied by his trusted disciple, Chi Zu. Their pure white robes fluttered like delicate leaves in the breeze.

  The moment Grandmaster Gongzhang stepped inside, Master Kang Jue, seated in the library, sensed the presence of a powerful aura. He rose immediately, followed by Yung Ke and Master Suo Jing. Seeing the Great Grandmaster approaching, they rushed to greet him, bowing deeply in a display of utmost respect.

  However, Master Kang Jue did not miss the sharp lines of tension etched across the Grandmaster’s face.

  Time passed...

  They gathered in the grand courtyard of the main library. A heavy, suffocating silence descended upon them. Sweat beaded on the foreheads of Master Suo Jing and Kang Jue; they wiped their brows with silken handkerchiefs, their breaths coming in heavy heaves.

  "How and when did this happen?" Master Suo Jing asked, his voice strained. "We have no information. But if this news leaks, it will bring infamy to the Lianxiao Clan, for the Hazi Tai settlement belongs to our servants. And if the truth spreads that Gu Zong has divided his own soul he will be suppressed and erased, just like his history."

  Grandmaster Gongzhang looked at his disciple with a flicker of objection before turning back. "History? What history?"

  Master Kang Jue bowed his head respectfully. "We will surely provide you with answers, Master. But first, we must summon Gu Zong’s grandfather. He must be informed. The final decision rests with him."

  Grandmaster Gongzhang gave a silent nod of consent. A letter was penned for Gu Zong’s grandfather and dispatched immediately via a swift messenger. Master Kang Jue then described the current crisis: "We crave your forgiveness for this negligence, Master. But snakes have slithered into the Lianxiao Clan. Someone has spread a malicious rumor that our clan is utilizing a cursed zither. The disciples are in a state of frenzy, looking at everyone with suspicion. Someone is trying to shatter the dignity of our sect."

  Elsewhere, far from this political heaviness, Gu Zong stood by the lake. Seeing Han Wuang Shi stir and wake, he turned back toward the water, muttering with a scowl, "He’s awake again? Well, whatever. Let’s try one more time."

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  As Gu Zong waded into the depths, a voice called out from behind: "Zao Yun!!"

  Wuang Shi had risen and followed him to the water's edge. Startled by the sudden call of his true name, Gu Zong spun around, his foot slipping on the slick stones. He nearly tumbled backward into the deep water. Wuang Shi lunged to catch him by his belt, but the fabric was loose and gave way, slipping through his fingers.

  Gu Zong plunged into the water. The force of the current caused his outer robes to drift open, revealing his form. Wuang Shi watched with wide eyes, the discarded belt still in his hand. Without a second thought, he dove into the lake to follow. Gu Zong, however, had already pushed forward, swimming toward the zither. Wuang Shi surfaced briefly to fill his lungs with a massive gulp of air before diving back down after him.

  As Gu Zong neared the artifact, his breath began to fail. Suddenly, the zither manifested a thousand illusions. In an instant, the white sandy floor of the lake was covered in thousands of Jiuhuang Yin zithers, each one identical, white, and hauntingly beautiful. Gu Zong’s lungs screamed for oxygen; he knew he wouldn't make it to the surface in time.

  Just then, he felt a sudden grip on his waist. His eyes flew open in shock at the touch. A hand cupped his mouth and pulled him back. Turning his head, he saw the calm, steady eyes of Han Wuang Shi, whose arm was wrapped firmly around his waist. Without hesitation, Wuang Shi pressed his lips against Gu Zong’s.

  Stunned by the sudden kiss, Gu Zong instinctively tried to push him away. But then, he felt it air. He felt oxygen flowing into his lungs from Wuang Shi’s own breath. His frantic struggling ceased. His gaze remained fixed on Wuang Shi’s lowered lashes, so close he could see every detail.

  Wuang Shi released him, pointed toward one specific zither amongst the thousands, and gestured for Gu Zong to go. Then, Wuang Shi turned and swam toward the surface.

  Gu Zong knew his time was short. He lunged toward the zither lying beneath the direct downpour of the waterfall. As he entered the impact zone, the weight of the falling water felt as though a mountain were crushing his very bones. His breath ran thin again. He reached out; only a hair’s breadth remained between his fingertips and the instrument. His eyes turned bloodshot, the veins in his face bulging with the effort. With one final, desperate surge of strength, he touched the zither. Instantly, the waterfall ceased.

  Above, Han Wuang Shi looked up. The thunderous roar had vanished; the water had stopped falling. His eyes grew calm. He glanced at the lake one last time before walking away with quiet, steady steps. He reached a stone, neatly folded Gu Zong’s discarded belt and placed it there, then picked up his own sword and departed.

  Below, the water began to recede as if the earth itself were swallowing it. Just as Gu Zong’s lungs reached their absolute limit, the water dropped below his head. He took a wild, desperate gasp of air. In moments, the lake was gone. Where once there was shimmering blue-green water, there was now only white sand and beautiful, iridescent seashells.