On the outskirts of the dilapidated black market, Ye Xue's intense headache left her barely standing. The snow owl wooden carving in her hand seemed to burn with the flames of memory, attempting to break through the cold barrier in her mind. Rin stood silently nearby, watching her painful struggle, his gaze complex. He knew this carving was the key to unlocking her memories, and her current pain was the price of truth surfacing.
The pain gradually subsided. Ye Xue slowly lifted her head, her pale face covered in fine beads of sweat. She stared at the wooden carving in her hand, her clear yet unfathomably deep eyes filled with struggle and confusion. She seemed to be trying desperately to recall, to grasp something from the blurry fragments.
Rin stepped closer, his gaze falling on her trembling fingertips, which were now gently caressing the snow owl's wings, with a touch of tenderness and longing she herself might not have noticed.
"You've seen it," Rin's voice was low and firm, carrying a subtle hint of inducement. He knew she was lying, or rather, deceiving herself.
Ye Xue's body stiffened sharply. She almost instinctively pulled the carving back, clutching it tightly as if it were a precious treasure about to be snatched away. She looked up, meeting Rin's gaze with her cold eyes, a hint of wariness and resistance in them.
"I… I've never seen it," Ye Xue's voice was cold and steady, devoid of any fluctuation, as if she were desperately denying something. Her expression returned to its usual calm, but beneath that calm, a deeper struggle was hidden.
Rin's heart sank. He could sense her inner turmoil, yet she chose to resist. This made him even more certain that deep within her memories lay a secret more profound than mere betrayal, so much so that she preferred denial over confrontation.
"Is that so?" Rin didn't press further, merely giving her a meaningful glance before turning to continue onward. "The mission is urgent."
Ye Xue stared at Rin's retreating back, her expression complex. The hand holding the carving trembled slightly; even she seemed unable to fully believe her own denial.
Night fell over the outskirts of the black market stronghold.
Rin and Ye Xue set up a temporary observation point on the roof of a dilapidated building. Moonlight filtered through the broken roof, casting their silent figures onto the ground. Rin focused on mapping out the stronghold's perimeter patrol routes and conducting preliminary reconnaissance on the target. Ye Xue was busy setting up long-range surveillance equipment and plotting emergency escape routes. Their coordination was as seamless as ever; every movement was precise and efficient, with no unnecessary communication, and no semblance of trust.
Rin observed the stronghold's movements through his binoculars, but his peripheral vision unconsciously kept flickering towards Ye Xue. She sat cross-legged on the other end of the roof, her figure strikingly cold under the moonlight. Her face was devoid of expression, but her cold eyes were fixed on the snow owl wooden carving in her hand.
She hadn't put the carving away.
Rin's heart stirred. He watched Ye Xue, her serene profile, her long fingers gently caressing the edges of the carving. These were not the actions of someone who had never seen it before; it was a subconscious attachment, a deep-seated tenderness in her soul.
Suddenly, Rin saw a crystalline tear silently fall from Ye Xue's eye, tracing a path down her cold cheek, disappearing into her jawline, lost in the darkness.
One drop… then another…
Tears fell like broken pearls, silently, yet Ye Xue seemed completely unaware. Her gaze remained empty, fixed on the carving, as if her consciousness was entirely immersed in some unknown depth of memory, experiencing forgotten pain and tenderness. Her face remained expressionless, but those silent tears were more heart-wrenching than any overt weeping.
Rin's heart clenched fiercely. He had never seen Ye Xue cry. Even in that memory, when she tearfully plunged the dagger into his chest, she had suppressed her tears, enduring the pain silently. Yet now, without realizing it, she wept for this wooden carving, for this lost past.
Those silent tears spoke of her inner struggle, of the bond she vehemently denied yet couldn't fully sever. The tenderness buried beneath her indifference was now, through her tears, slowly seeping out.
Rin's gaze became complex and profound. He was once again certain: she was forced. She was bound by some powerful force, or a deeper pain, which led her to choose denial. And that "tenderness" that once belonged to both of them had been buried deep within her for some reason.
He didn't speak, didn't disturb her. He knew this moment belonged to her, to her solitary confrontation with lost memories. He simply watched, an ineffable mix of emotions rising within him. His and Ye Xue's destinies, like this wooden carving, had been sealed by cold reality, only to be unwittingly reawakened.
The distant clamor of the black market stronghold echoed, but on this rooftop, there was only Rin's breathing and Ye Xue's silent tears. They intertwined under the moonlight, narrating a forgotten, bloody tenderness. This mission would no longer be just an assassination; it was their journey to reclaim the truth and each other.