Amidst the cheers, her song began.
I played the melody again in sync with her voice.
And then…
“…What is it?”
She made an unexpected movement, deviating from the planned choreography—turning around and looking at me.
Her eyes widened as if she’d seen something she shouldn’t have.
…No, hmm. Could it be…?
After her sudden deviation, she quickly returned to the intended choreography and continued the performance. She danced and sang precisely as she had during rehearsal, but something subtly felt different—deeper, perhaps, than even the rehearsal stage had been.
Of course, practice and real performance always vary, but this felt beyond that.
So this must be…
“…Yeon-i.”
It was the perfect stage: Moon Suyeon’s technique combined with Yeon-i’s sentimentality.
“…Can this really be happening? Is this real?”
As much as I wanted to confirm what was going on, I had to focus on the stage first. At the award ceremony, I had impulsively jumped onto the stage, but for this one, my sword dance was already part of the plan.
After flawlessly performing the modified seven-string zither piece, I drew my curved sword and leaped to the center of the stage.
And there was Moon Suyeon, looking at me with an almost heartbroken expression.
– Wow!!!!!!
– Wolhee! Wolhee! Wolhee!
– Lee Myung! Lee Myung! Lee Myung!
Wolhee’s fan dance and Lee Myung’s swordplay.
No matter how anxious her fanclub was to criticize me, on this stage, they couldn’t help but cheer Lee Myung’s name repeatedly.
After all, who would criticize greatness like this?
Admiration is only natural when witnessing a performance of this caliber.
And through this stage, I gained certainty—something big had happened.
Though it was definitely her prepared choreography, her mastery of the fan dance hadn’t been this flawless before.
It wasn’t a question of talent or ability; this was purely about experience.
No matter how well she trained, she couldn’t match someone like Yeon-i, who had spent fifteen years perfecting classical dance.
And above all…
“This is ‘Illusory Seductive Demon Fan Dance,’ the Hao Moon Sect’s secret technique.”
At this point, there could be no doubt.
Especially since her first words after the performance ended were, “This works?”
Wow, the universe really does love to surprise…
But maybe because I had gone through this kind of situation with Heavenly Demon before, I wasn’t as shocked as I had been then.
A vague sense of inevitability, perhaps?
Besides, Moon Suyeon didn’t have the ominous nature of Heavenly Demon. Instead of dodging, she approached me directly.
“Mr. Siwoo, this might sound a little strange, but… well, I think… maybe I was your girlfriend in a past life.”
“…Is that so?”
Once we were back in the waiting room, these were her very first words to me.
At this point, there wasn’t much point in hiding it, was there?
So I simply told her the truth—that I remembered everything too.
“…So, it was you who saved me then…”
“…Partly. Of course, the situation you were in was already very dire.”
“That’s right. Yes, it was.”
Lost in her own murmuring, she gave me an unexpected first comment—an apology.
“Um, I’m sorry.”
“…For what?”
“For dying like that.”
“…Is that your fault? Should you apologize for it?”
“Just because… I think it feels like I should. I was too selfish. I think I hurt you, Mr. Siwoo.”
“…Well, unless that’s a lie, it’s already in the past.”
It’s a bit funny.
She’s recalling what is an awkward memory to even call “past lives.”
It’s unclear whether I should call her Yeon-i or not, leaving us in a strange situation.
And honestly, I don’t know how much meaning there is in her apology now.
But hearing it from her own lips in the present, while she’s still alive, stirred something peculiar in me.
It felt somewhat like hearing Heavenly Demon confess to having feelings for me—though strangely, it wasn’t entirely unpleasant.
But that feeling was fleeting.
“Looks like even death couldn’t save me. Hmm, yes, that’s how it was. Meeting you again like this—it must really be fate. There’s no reason to run away now, right?”
“…Suyeon Sunbae?”
“That’s right. No Martial Forest Alliance, and no Hao Moon Sect anymore. Nowadays, there’s no longer any reason for you to feel intimidated, right?”
“…”
Still, she recovered faster than I expected.
Perhaps it’s because, unlike Heavenly Yuah, she was a bit simpler in nature?
“Could you tell me about the events after my death sometime? And also, about how you lived and what happened to our Hao Moon Sect?”
“…Sure. First, let’s finish the concert.”
“…Alright. I’ll get back on stage. See you later.”
Watching her retreating figure head back to the stage, I wondered what this would all lead to.
To think they have come so far that separating the two might now be impossible.
And from my perspective, I can’t help but think that the way I initially pushed them away might have been because of memories from my life in the Martial Forest.
After all, when seeing someone exactly resembling Heavenly Demon or Yeon-i, it was hard not to recall all those past connections.
But now that both are, indeed, them…
“Of course, they’re not entirely the same, but calling them completely different feels off as well.”
In cases like this, opinions might differ on whether these two represent the same identity.
It’s something people will interpret differently.
However, by my criteria, it’s difficult to consider them distinct entirely—they share the same memories and recollections of me.
“In all honesty, both appeal to my tastes greatly, especially when it comes to appearance. Even their personalities fit pretty well…”
Deciding between the two was a tricky matter, though.
With Heavenly Yuah, there was an incredible understanding between us, being fellow believers of the New Religion. It was a relationship of deep comfort as decades of shared history existed between us.
Sure, we lived together in a way, though not in the romantic sense. We shared so much time that it almost felt like a marriage without the physical intimacy.
She was far gentler compared to Heavenly Demon, another incredibly attractive quality.
On the other side, Moon Suyeon was… unpredictable? There’s always a sense that if you leave her unchecked, you might get blindsided.
Despite not knowing her for long, she’s deeply emotional.
She also has a strong blind loyalty toward me, which means if something goes wrong, it will do so spectacularly.
And despite having no real intention of pushing her away, I just…
“Both are so compelling in their professional lives, that it’s nearly impossible to choose one over the other.”
This isn’t about hesitance on my part.
After giving no consideration to these matters while leading an ordinary life, suddenly choosing feels impossible.
They both shine in their respective fields, that it’s hard to compare.
“Ah, whatever. Let’s see where this goes. It’s not like they’ll love me forever anyway. Let’s just see what happens.”
What was once completely closed has now definitely opened up.
For now, this is the best approach.
*
Heavenly Yuah’s recovery of her memories from her time as Heavenly Demon, and her acceptance of all that transpired, was undoubtedly an important event.
Through it, she unraveled the truth behind the nightmare, cleaned up the issues, and firmly confirmed she was meant to be with White Siu.
But if pressed whether this event helped her romantic prospects with White Siu, she herself might have shaken her head.
After all, reminiscing alone wouldn’t mean much if he couldn’t remember along with her.
“But this event was more impactful than I anticipated.”
What made this moment so special was his revelation—turns out, he too kept memories from Martial Forest era.
When he approached her and called out her identity as Heavenly Demon, she was secretly astounded.
In that moment, the answer to a long-standing mystery finally crystalized in her mind: why had White Siu always pushed her and Moon Suyeon away?
“Of course—it’s reasonable. He didn’t want either of us to be substitutes for Heavenly Demon or Yeon-i.”
Irrational as it was sometimes to suspect he might be gay or disinterested, that wasn’t the case.
Now she was confident.
No matter what, she had won this game.
With White Siu retaining his memories, there was no way Moon Suyeon would ever become a romantic prospect. This victory was hers.
So whenever they were alone, she intentionally switched into ‘Heavenly Demon mode.’
She embraced and expressed her feelings more aggressively compared to before while revisiting old memories to emphasize her unique ability to understand him.
This strategy worked better than expected, making their connection more natural and intimate than ever.
Everything seemed to be on track.
Enough so that she could even extend more kindness toward Moon Suyeon than usual.
“…But what’s this now?”
While observing White Siu and Moon Suyeon’s joined performance from below the stage, Heavenly Yuah sensed something monumental.
Moon Suyeon was executing the Hao Moon Sect’s secret technique, the “Illusory Seductive Demon Fan Dance.” Combined with her gazes at White Siu, it was clear what was happening.
She had to admit:
This couldn’t be coincidence. For whatever reason, Moon Suyeon had recovered the memories she possessed as Yeon-i.
This was something Heavenly Yuah refused to accept.
“Why does the universe keep throwing curveballs at me?”
To be sent back to the start just when she thought she had secured the finish line was bitter and painful.
Was this punishment for failing to express her feelings for White Siu in Martial Forest?
Even after seeing him die right before her eyes, she believed she had paid her dues—but apparently, not enough.
“Even if I’ve been set back, at least now I’ve reached the starting line.”
Thankfully, where she was before—when she had no recollections of Martial Forest and couldn’t even stand a chance—was better than where she stood now.
And as the race commences, it would inevitably reach an end, so she was determined to see it through.
Of course, this would come after a more earnest conversation with that woman.
