In the depths of night, Emma was swept into a surreal dream.
Time passed. In the dream, she and Fox Lian never separated—but the rift in their beliefs widened like a chasm.
She saw him darken with jealousy when she spoke casually with Cang Ming (through Gu Liang). His tail lashed out, shattering her favorite spirit plant. She saw him erupt in anger when she insisted on sparing a low-tier spirit beast that had accidentally offended her—his violet eyes burning with possessive fury she could only call irrational. And she saw, after countless fights and mutual wounds, how he grew increasingly obsessive, using harsher, more controlling methods to keep her close.
Eventually… the starlight in his eyes was gone, replaced by pain and madness. Even his once-prized, beloved silver tail—her favorite—lost its luster in a burst of uncontrolled power.
"No—!" Emma jolted awake, drenched in cold sweat, heart pounding.
The dream had felt too real. Watching the one she loved spiral into agony from misunderstanding and emotional collapse—it nearly consumed her.
She sat up, hugging her knees, tears sliding silently down her cheeks.
She had clung to the idea of "irreconcilable beliefs," convinced it was a fundamental divide. But the look in Fox Lian's eyes in that dream—so broken, so desperate—shook her.
His extreme, unacceptable behaviors… weren't born of malice. They came from love—clumsy, intense, and terrified of loss.
He expressed care the only way he knew: control, possession, eliminating threats. Like a young beast guarding its only treasure. Rough, yes—but rooted in fear.
And what about her? Had she been so focused on her ideals, so insistent on being understood, that she failed to understand him? Had she used her divine clan's cool, almost detached standards to judge a fox whose love burned hot and raw?
They had both loved in the way they knew best—but never learned to love in the way the other needed.
Separation wouldn't solve anything. It would only let two people who truly loved each other drift further apart, until they became the nightmare's ending.
As dawn broke, Emma wiped her tears. Her eyes held a clarity she hadn't felt in days.
She didn't want that future. She didn't want Fox Lian to suffer because of her. And she didn't want to live with regret.
Their beliefs might differ—but the love was real. And if love existed, why not learn how to love better?
She rose, washed carefully, dressed in clean robes, and even wore the fox-ear pendant he had carved for her.
No more hesitation. The dream's future was too vivid, too cruel. She wouldn't let it come true.
As the first rays of sunlight bathed All-Race Academy, Emma stood outside Fox Lian's residence.
He clearly hadn't slept. His silver hair was tousled, dark shadows under his eyes. When he saw her, a flicker of emotion flashed in his violet gaze—quickly masked by cold wariness. His tail twitched, then stiffened behind him.
"What do you want?" His voice was hoarse, distant.
Emma ignored the chill. She stepped forward, stopping just short of him, her gaze clear and sincere.
"Fox Lian," she said softly, but with quiet strength, "I take back what I said about separating."
His pupils contracted. His lips pressed tight, as if weighing whether this was another excuse.
Emma continued, "I had a dream last night. In it, we kept hurting each other—because neither of us would bend, neither of us tried to understand. We both lost." Her voice trembled. "I've been thinking ever since."
She took a deep breath and held out her hand, palm up—an invitation.
"I don't want that. Fox Lian, I know we see the world differently. You lean toward control, I toward compassion. That may never change." She met his conflicted, guarded eyes and said, slowly and clearly:
"But can we… stop trying to erase each other's views? Stop demanding change? Can we learn, together, how to love in a way that works for both of us?"
"Give me a chance. Give yourself a chance." Her eyes shone with hope. "Let's find common ground, even if we disagree."
Fox Lian froze.
He stared at her outstretched hand. At the eyes that no longer held distance or disappointment—but a mix of pain, clarity, and immense courage. She wasn't rejecting his love. She was inviting him to reshape it, together.
He stared for a long time.
Just as Emma's arm began to ache and her heart began to sink—
A cool, trembling hand gently landed in her palm.
Fox Lian turned his face away, ears tinged red. His voice was low, muffled, laced with vulnerability and relief:
"…You're not allowed to regret this."
Emma's tears spilled instantly. She gripped his hand tightly, laughing through them.
"Never."
Sunlight finally broke through the mist, warming their joined hands—and the silver tail that, at last, relaxed and swayed gently behind him.
The road ahead might still be full of differences. But for now, they had chosen to walk it side by side.