While Xiang Yong shared the past of his king with Zheng Yin, said king’s fiance was staring at his image in the water mirror in a daze. That between his brows … looked very much like the symbol that would appear between the brows of a fallen god. He had once seen it painted in a book when he was young and he also remembered Xiang Yu’s appearance that he had gotten more than one look at during his trial. This … was exactly the same.

Well, it wasn’t exactly the same. Between Xiang Yu’s brows, there were two straight lines with one side slightly pointing outward like one half of a square. Meanwhile, what rested between his brows looked like a crescent moon with both ends pointing upward. But even though the shape was different, the position and color seemed to tell him everything he needed to know. He didn’t want to believe it though.

Jing He barely remembered to breathe and quietly told himself that he must be wrong. He couldn’t have fallen. Even though he had to admit that something was wrong with his memory and it seemed like a week had somehow gone missing, that couldn’t be because of such a reason. No, there had to be a sensible explanation.

He hesitantly raised his hand, his fingers trembling. It might just be ink. Yes, maybe the ink on the letter hadn’t been completely dry when Qiu Ling delivered it. He might have touched it and something may have remained on his hand. In his confusion, he had touched his forehead and accidentally smeared it there without noticing. Yes, that had to be it.

He finally touched the spot and rubbed gently, thinking that it should at least smear if he was right. But, of course, nothing changed as he attempted to wipe the ink away. The black mark stayed a perfect crescent, the ends raised like a dark smile laughing at him for his stupidity.

Jing He gasped and only rubbed harder. He refused to accept it. He couldn’t be … he couldn’t be a fallen god. If he was, then how could he ever be with Qiu Ling? How could he ever stand in front of his family again? All of it, his whole life, would simply be gone. That wasn’t allowed to happen!

He continuously rubbed the spot but the black mark didn’t want to vanish and only the skin surrounding it turned red. Jing He’s eyes filled with tears and he finally stopped moving, simply covering it with his fingers.

He didn’t dare to look at it. If he looked, it was all too real. This small thing had the power to disrupt his whole life. Apparently, it had already done so. Otherwise, why was he in the High Heavens? So yes, it had to be real even if he didn’t want to admit it.

The tears finally spilled over and he hurriedly closed his eyes. He wished that Qiu Ling was at his side to hold him and comfort him but there was no chance of that happening, was there? Yes, he now seemed to be a fallen god. How could Qiu Ling ever be with him again?

In the future, they clearly wouldn’t see one another again. The gentleness he had experienced was a thing of the past now. Those comforting hugs that reminded him of Qiu Ling’s strength, the words softly whispered into his ears, all of that would never be his again. From now on, he was on his own.

Jing He took a trembling breath, the tears continuing to spill out. He lowered his hand, covering his whole face instead of just the Mark of Wisdom between his brows, and cried silently, his shoulders shaking with his sobs.

Just yesterday, he had mourned the seeming simplicity of being with Qiu Ling now that he was aware of his secret. Today, even that added difficulty seemed like nothing contrasted with this change in himself.

He was a fallen god now, unworthy of appearing in front of any living soul from now on. Qiu Ling could never look past this, could he? No, he had always loved him as he saw him on the surface: the appearance that was carefully calculated, the smile he had practiced for years until he was able to even subconsciously evoke it no matter his thoughts or feelings, the gentle words he had to think about before he could utter them … Qiu Ling loved this perfect image of his, not the broken soul beneath. How could he ever love a fallen god?

If the dream of a life together had not been broken yesterday, then it sure was smashed into pieces today, unable to ever be fit back together.

Realizing this, he didn’t know what to do. His whole life had been lived with the idea of fulfilling his parents’ expectations, finally marrying a good man, and then continuing to give him what he needed. He had dared to yearn for love but not dared to hope much for it. When he met Qiu Ling and finally fell in love with this man who hotly pursued him despite his initial resistance, it was his luck and it had seemed like a blessing of fate, something he had to have cultivated in his past seven lives. There was just no way he could ever be allowed such happiness because surely, he didn’t deserve it by his own merit.

Now, it seemed that he indeed didn’t deserve it and whatever luck he might have cultivated in another life, it wasn’t enough to hold onto him. Qiu Ling wasn’t meant to be his. He could only … only stay here, yearning for him while he remembered their past, unable to ever appear in front of him again.

In the future, he would never be that man’s. The dreams he had had, none of them would come true. They would forever only be illusory, something he couldn’t grasp no matter how close he had once gotten to them. To think of this … was truly too heartbreaking.