Chapter 20: The Cycle That Never Ends

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The world had forgotten.

The temple stood untouched beneath the pale moonlight, its incense curling into the sky like a whisper of something lost.

Mei Rin walked through the empty corridors, her steps silent.

There was no trace of Jiàn Lian.

No memory of the name that had once filled her heart with warmth.

He had been erased.

And yet…

Somewhere, deep in her bones, something ached.

A hollow feeling, like a wound that had never bled.

Her fingers brushed the edge of the altar.

The ink was gone.

But the weight of something unseen remained.

A presence. A whisper. A ghost of a thought.

Mei Rin’s breath came slow.

"This is how it should be," she told herself.

And yet…

Somewhere in the depths of her soul, a voice stirred.

A voice she should not remember.

A voice that should not exist.

"Mei Rin."

Her spine stiffened.

The temple was empty.

She was alone.

Yet the voice—**his voice—**was so clear, so close.

A flicker of something unfamiliar and yet known curled at the edge of her mind.

Memories she had never lived.

A touch she had never felt.

A love that should have never been.

Mei Rin staggered back.

No.

This was not real.

Jiàn Lian had never existed.

His fate had been erased.

He was a mistake—a name that should never have been written.

But then…

Why did it hurt?

Her hands clenched.

"Who are you?" she whispered into the empty air.

And the darkness around her shifted.

The ink that had devoured Jiàn Lian stirred once more.

The altar shuddered.

And suddenly—

The temple was not empty.

A figure stood in the doorway.

Tall. Familiar. Impossible.

Mei Rin’s breath hitched.

"No…"

The man stepped forward, his face hidden in the shadows.

His presence felt like Jiàn Lian.

And yet—it was not him.

His posture was too rigid.

His movements too precise.

Like something wearing a human form but not truly understanding it.

Mei Rin’s pulse pounded.

"Who are you?" she whispered again.

The man tilted his head.

And when he finally spoke—

His voice was not Jiàn Lian’s.

"You took something that was never yours."

Mei Rin’s blood ran cold.

The ink around the temple began to rise.

The world shifted.

Memories fractured.

And in a chilling, breathless moment—Mei Rin understood.

Jiàn Lian had not been erased.

He had been rewritten.

Reborn into something else.

Something unrecognizable.

Something waiting.

The ink coiled around her feet, pulling her forward.

The man in the doorway smiled.

"Your turn."

The world collapsed.

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