The silence between them was like fragile glass, ready to shatter at any moment.

  For a long time, Mo Yan said nothing. He simply stood there, neither of them daring to look at the other. An unbearable awkwardness filled the space. But after a few heartbeats, Mo Yan turned slightly toward Yu Sui. He paused... then spoke in a calm, steady voice filled with quiet resolve.

  "Because I don't care who you were. I only care about who we are now."

  The spiritual butterfly dissolved into the drifting wind, vanishing completely. In the silence between Yu Sui and Mo Yan, the binding thread shimmered. The trees swayed in a gentle breeze, and dry, yellowed leaves fell around them like autumn rain.

  Mo Yan attempted to take a step, only then realizing that during the heat of the battle, his own leg had been wounded. He tried to push forward, his grip on his sword trembling, but the gash on his leg was deep and jagged. His body faltered. Just as he began to collapse, Yu Sui caught him before he hit the ground. Yu Sui’s own shoulder and leg were still bleeding, but he ignored the pain... he had to.

  Mo Yan offered no resistance. He stood still, leaning against Yu Sui’s support. Then Yu Sui spoke, his voice devoid of emotion yet urgent.

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  "If we don't leave now, they will find us again."

  Without waiting for an answer, Yu Sui knelt down and pulled Mo Yan onto his back. This sudden action left Mo Yan stunned; the shock written across his face made it clear he hadn't expected such a gesture.

  Mo Yan protested weakly, "Yu, you're injured too."

  But Yu Sui snapped back, "Shut up. During our years of training, you carried me in far worse conditions. Now it's my turn."

  As he hoisted Mo Yan up, the sacred bond between them pulsed brighter and stronger than ever before. But they were too focused on survival to even notice. Yu Sui began to trek forward, carrying the weight of his rival.

  Some Time Later...

  At the Ruined Temple

  The two of them stumbled out of the forest and reached the ancient, crumbling temple where the three masters were waiting. As they entered, the masters rushed toward them in a panic. They saw the blood, the tattered robes, and the bone-deep exhaustion on the boys' faces. Yet, beneath the fatigue, they saw a fire in their eyes that hadn't been there before.

  Master Chui Yong’s heart sank, his face turning pale with grief. He let out a heavy, shuddering sigh.

  "These children... they are carrying the burden of our sins."

  Yu Sui and Mo Yan stood before them, leaning on each other for strength. Suddenly, Mo Yan’s face contorted with agony, and he struggled to remain upright. Master Kin Lishuan stepped forward quickly, helping Mo Yan sit against a pillar next to the young boy. The boy immediately grabbed Mo Yan’s arm, seeking comfort.

  Silence descended upon the temple. Then, Chui Yong stepped forward, his voice quiet but unshakable.

  "Mo, listen to me. We cannot go any further. This is where our path ends."

  Mo Yan tried to protest, attempting to stand back up, but Chui Yong raised a hand to stop him.

  "We are only holding you back now. This journey is no longer ours. It belongs to you."