"It's your fault. It's completely your fault."
Guangdai's muffled voice came from his shoulder, thick with grievance and resentment.
Luo Li gave a helpless smile, allowing the proud Great Tengu to revert, just for this moment, into the little girl who once followed him everywhere.
Her quiet sobbing continued for some time.
They stood in the pavilion without moving.
Guangdai clung to this reunion as though it might disappear if she loosened her grip. She didn't want answers yet. Didn't want explanations.
She only wanted to stay in his arms.
As if she could melt into him.
Time passed unnoticed.
At last, Luo Li spoke softly.
"Instead of standing here… why don't we go back to your room? Don't you want to know where I've been these five hundred years? How I survived?"
At his words, Guangdai slowly lifted her head.
Her eyes were slightly red.
The cold, untouchable aura of the Great Tengu now blended with vulnerable tenderness.
"Then carry me."
The request was shamelessly willful.
He didn't hesitate.
"Alright. I'll carry you."
He lifted her in his arms.
Guangdai wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her cheek against his chest. She listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, staring at his face without blinking, afraid he might vanish again.
Luo Li didn't teleport.
He didn't cut across space.
He walked.
Step by step, from the martial hall up through the ancient tree's winding corridors.
Guangdai cherished every second.
But even the longest path ends.
Back at the upper chamber, she reluctantly stepped down from his embrace. They entered the room together.
Her emotions had calmed slightly, yet she still refused to let go of his hand.
He let her hold it.
Seated at the edge of her bed, Luo Li paused.
"Let me think… where should I begin?"
Guangdai watched him intently.
For five hundred years she had lived like a widow guarding memories.
If he had truly been alive this whole time… why hadn't he returned?
She intended to make him compensate for that — slowly, stubbornly, thoroughly.
He cleared his throat.
"Let's begin with the Seven Gods' campaign against Khaenri'ah."
Everything traced back to that war.
"Do you remember the day I disappeared with Baal?"
She nodded.
"That day, we answered the summons of Celestia. The Seven gathered to suppress Khaenri'ah, which had tampered with abyssal power. I followed Baal into that war…"
He explained.
The devastation.
The abyssal eruption.
The countless monsters pouring forth.
Even knowing he was safe now, Guangdai's fingers tightened until they turned pale.
Inazuma had once faced only residual monsters from that catastrophe — and even that nearly broke the nation.
What he described…
Was far worse.
When he spoke of falling into the abyss alongside the first Electro Archon—
Guangdai's breath caught.
Luo Li squeezed her hand reassuringly.
"For the next five hundred years, Makoto and I fought within the abyss. Time lost meaning. Only recently did we finally carve our way back to Teyvat."
He didn't specify when.
He kept it vague.
Guangdai didn't question the timeline.
She only focused on the hardship he must have endured.
Five hundred years of endless battle.
Her heart ached.
Of course he wouldn't abandon them willingly.
Relief washed away the last of her grievance.
By the time he finished, it was deep into the night.
Moonlight streamed through the skylight. Stars shimmered above.
"I haven't seen Inazuma's night sky in a long time," he murmured.
Guangdai leaned against him, gazing upward.
Only after losing something could one truly understand the joy of regaining it.
"Teacher… you won't leave again, will you?"
The same question someone else had once asked him.
This time, he didn't feel burdened by it.
He understood the fear beneath it.
"I won't disappear without a word again."
He spoke solemnly.
Her eyes studied him.
"Really?"
"Really."
"And if you're lying?"
He hesitated.
How could he prove it?
But Guangdai didn't press further.
Instead, she changed the subject.
"Do you remember the promise you made before you left?"
"…Which one?"
"You said, within your ability, you would grant me one request."
He remembered.
Their eyes met.
"Does it still count?"
He exhaled lightly.
"Yes. It still counts."
"Then… please fulfill the wish I've held for five hundred years."
The final barrier in her heart shattered.
The feelings she had once buried — the confession she never spoke — could no longer be restrained.
She stepped forward without hesitation.
"What is it?" he asked quietly.
Her voice trembled — but it did not waver.
"Teacher… please take all of me."
Silence filled the room.
Moonlight spilled across the floor.
And five hundred years of longing finally reached its breaking point.