Chapter 75
The years passed quietly.
The world healed.
The wounds left by war slowly faded.
New flowers bloomed where battlefields once stood.
Children who had never known fear laughed beneath clear skies.
Life moved forward.
Just as Zhao Yuanzhou had wanted.
And yet-
for Zhuo Yichen-
time seemed to stop.
Not completely.
Just enough that every spring still reminded him of someone.
Every pear blossom.
Every quiet night beneath the stars.
Still belonged to a certain shameless demon.
Their daughter was born on a rainy morning.
Tiny.
Warm.
Perfect.
The first time Yichen held her, he cried.
Not because she was weak.
Not because he was afraid.
But because for one brief moment-
he saw Zhao Yuanzhou in her eyes.
And it hurt.
It hurt so much.
Yet it was also the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
Demons aged differently.
Fifty years passed like a passing breeze.
Yet the little girl still looked no older than a three-year-old child.
Two messy pigtails bounced everywhere she went.
Her cheeks were soft and round.
Her baby teeth appeared whenever she smiled.
And unfortunately-
she was far too clever for her own good.
One day, Yichen was reading quietly when he noticed suspicious silence.
Immediately suspicious.
Very suspicious.
He looked around.
No child.
No noise.
No disaster.
Which somehow made things worse.
Then he looked down.
Two enormous eyes were peeking from beneath the table.
Watching him.
“What are you doing?”
The little girl immediately hid again.
Only her pigtails remained visible.
A moment later she peeked out.
“Nothing.”
The answer was so unconvincing that even she seemed unsure.
Yichen discovered three missing pears behind her back.
He decided not to ask.
She loved pear fruit.
Absolutely adored it.
So much that Yichen had begun using pears as rewards.
“Finish today’s lesson.”
“Pear?”
“Yes.”
“Two pears?”
“…One.”
The little girl gasped dramatically.
Yet five minutes later she was diligently studying.
For about five minutes.
Then she was distracted by a butterfly.
And then a bird.
And then absolutely nothing.
Despite that, she learned frighteningly quickly.
Sometimes Yichen would teach her something once.
And she would remember it forever.
When she got excited, she still couldn’t complete long sentences properly.
Instead she waved her little hands around and invented half the conversation herself.
One evening, while eating pears together beneath the old tree outside their secluded home, she suddenly looked up.
“Dad?”
“Mhm?”
“When Father come back?”
“Soon.”
“How soon?”
“Soon soon.”
The child frowned.
Thinking very seriously.
Then nodded.
A moment later she added:
“I wanna eat many foods.”
Yichen blinked.
“What?”
“Many foods.”
She stretched her tiny arms dramatically.
“Very many.”
“And go somewhere else.”
“Why?”
The little girl pointed around the mountains.
“This place boring.”
The declaration was delivered with such confidence that Yichen almost laughed.
“Boring?”
“Very boring.”
“There’s a whole mountain.”
“Boring.”
“A forest.”
“Boring.”
“A river.”
“Boring.”
Yichen looked at her.
Then he finally laughed.
A genuine laugh.
Whenever villagers occasionally visited, she transformed instantly.
The fearless little troublemaker disappeared.
And a shy child emerged.
She would run behind Yichen’s robes.
Hide.
Peek.
Hide again.
Then stare at strangers with enormous curious eyes.
The villagers always found it adorable.
Which embarrassed her greatly.
At night, however, she was completely different.
She loved sleeping beside him.
Curled against his side.
Tiny fingers clutching his sleeve.
As though afraid he might disappear.
Sometimes while she slept, Yichen would brush loose strands of hair from her face.
And simply watch her.
The moonlight illuminating her tiny features.
Her peaceful expression.
The faint resemblance to someone he missed terribly.
And during those quiet nights-
when his daughter was asleep and the world was silent-
Zhuo Yichen would hold her a little closer.
Look toward the stars.
And whisper softly:
“You promised.”
❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️❄️✨✨✨✨
One hundred years.
One hundred long years.
The seasons had come and gone so many times that Zhuo Yichen had stopped counting.
Cherry blossoms bloomed.
Fell.
Bloomed again.
The world changed.
People changed.
Even mountains seemed older.
The small house at the edge of the forest remained quiet.
Peaceful.
Lonely.
Inside, Zhuo Yichen sat by the window reading a book.
Across from him sat the little girl.
Two pigtails…
Round cheeks.
A small pout.
One hundred years old.
Yet she looked no older than six.
At the moment, she was being punished.
Very unfairly.
At least according to her.
“Write it again.”
Yichen didn’t even look up from his book.
The little girl groaned dramatically.
“But Dad…”
“Again.”
She puffed her cheeks.
Then continued writing characters.
One.
Two.
Three.
After ten characters she secretly stopped.
Yichen turned a page.
Without looking.
“Continue.”
The little girl nearly jumped.
“How did you know?”
“I am your father.”
The child sighed.
Life was difficult.
Especially when your father was Zhuo Yichen.
Outside, cherry blossoms drifted gently through the air.
The afternoon was peaceful.
Too peaceful.
Then-
knock.
Knock.
Knock.
The little girl immediately looked up.
“A visitor?”
Yichen closed his book.
Few people came here anymore.
Most knew he preferred solitude.
Slowly he stood.
Another knock echoed.
Something stirred inside his chest.
A strange feeling.
Unfamiliar.
Yet deeply familiar.
The little girl ran toward the door first.
“Dad! I’ll open it!”
Yichen followed behind her.
His heartbeat suddenly becoming uneven.
The child grabbed the handle.
Pulled.
The door opened.
And froze.
A tall figure stood outside.
Black robes.
Familiar eyes.
Familiar smile.
Cherry blossoms drifted between them.
For a moment-
nobody moved.
The little girl blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Then pointed.
“Who are you?”
The man’s gaze slowly shifted past her.
Past the doorway.
Until it landed on Zhuo Yichen.
Everything became silent.
The wind.
The trees.
The world.
One hundred years of longing.
One hundred years of waiting.
One hundred years of grief.
Collapsed into a single moment.
The book slipped from Yichen’s fingers.
Falling to the floor.
He couldn’t breathe.
Couldn’t speak.
Couldn’t move.
Because standing there-
alive.
Smiling.
Real.
Was Zhao Yuanzhou.
The great demon’s eyes were already red.
His smile trembled.
“Yichen.”
Yet it shattered the last wall around Yichen’s heart.
The tears came immediately.
After a century of holding them back.
After a century of pretending to be strong.
After a century of waiting.
“You…”
“You came back…”
Zhao Yuanzhou laughed softly through his own tears.
“I promised.”
The little girl looked between them in confusion.
Then suddenly her eyes widened.
Her mouth formed a perfect little “O.”
The stories.
The memories.
The man Dad spoke to beneath the stars.
The man Dad waited for every spring.
The man Dad never stopped loving.
The little girl pointed excitedly.
“You!”
Both men looked at her.
She bounced in place.
“You’re Father!”
Zhao Yuanzhou stared.
Then slowly knelt before her.
His hands trembling.
Because this was his daughter.
The child he never got to hold.
Never got to watch grow.
Never got to meet.
His eyes filled with tears.
The little girl tilted her head.
Studying him carefully.
❄️❄️❄️❄️✨✨✨⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️
The cherry blossoms drifted quietly through the doorway.
The afternoon sun painted everything in gold.
And Zhuo Yichen simply stood there.
Looking at him.
At the face he had carried in his memories for a hundred years.
At the voice he had heard only in dreams.
At the person he had waited for through every lonely spring and every silent winter.
Zhao Yuanzhou.
Alive.
Real.
Home.
The little girl was still asking important questions about food.
Neither of them heard a word.
Because Yichen’s eyes had already filled with tears.
Again.
He had cried so much over the last century.
Cried when their daughter was born.
Cried on lonely nights beneath the stars.
Cried whenever he looked at the bracelet.
Cried whenever someone asked if he was still waiting.
Yet somehow-
these tears felt different.
Not tears of grief.
Not tears of loss.
Tears of relief.
Slowly.
Very slowly.
He stepped forward.
Then another step.
And another.
As if afraid the image would disappear if he moved too quickly.
As if fate might steal him away again.
Zhao Yuanzhou’s eyes were already red.
His smile trembling.
Neither spoke.
There was nothing left to say.
One hundred years of longing could not fit into words.
Then suddenly-
Yichen ran.
The same strict, composed Zhuo Yichen who always followed rules.
Who always carried himself with dignity.
Who always remained calm.
Ran.
Straight into Zhao Yuanzhou’s arms.
The impact nearly knocked the great demon backward.
But Zhao Yuanzhou caught him immediately.
Holding him tightly.
Desperately.
Like he had been waiting a hundred years to do exactly this.
Yichen buried his face against his shoulder.
And finally broke.
All the loneliness.
All the waiting.
All the nights spent staring at the stars.
All the birthdays.
All the milestones.
All the moments Zhao Yuanzhou had missed.
Everything came pouring out.
“I hate you.”
His voice shook.
“I know.”
“You took too long.”
“I know.”
“A hundred years.”
“I know.”
“You promised soon.”
The great demon laughed softly.
His own tears falling freely.
“Time moves differently when you’re dead.”
That earned him a weak smack on the shoulder.
The first of many, probably.
Neither let go.
Not for a very long time.
The little girl watched them.
Then sighed dramatically.
Adults were strange.
Very strange.
Eventually she marched forward.
Placed her tiny hands on both of them.
And declared:
“Family hug.”
The two looked down.
Then laughed.
And pulled her into their embrace.
The little girl immediately accepted this arrangement.
Especially because she suspected food might follow.
Above them, cherry blossoms continued to fall.
The same blossoms that had witnessed their first meetings.
Their separations.
Their grief.
And now-
their reunion.
For once, fate had nothing left to take.
The war was over.
The waiting was over.
The loneliness was over.
The great demon had returned.
The stubborn commander had finally stopped waiting.
And their daughter had both of her parents beside her.
Together.
At last.
Forever.
The End.
Despite the obstacles.
Despite the hatred.
Despite every sorrow, every misunderstanding, and every goodbye.
Love found them again.
Because true love is not measured by time, distance, sacrifice, or even death.
It is the quiet promise to keep waiting.
The courage to keep choosing one another.
The hope that survives even when everything else is lost.
Love is like a beautiful rainbow woven into every heart-sometimes hidden behind storms, but never truly gone.
And no matter how dark the sky becomes, it always finds a way to shine again.
This is the story of Zhuo Yichen and Zhao Yuanzhou.
A story of waiting.
A story of sacrifice.
A story of finding each other across lifetimes.
And above all-
a story of love.
With love,
Author
✨ Lazy Nezuko ✨