"I want you to be my formal disciple," Madam Ruan said the next morning.
Nora nearly dropped the porcelain bowl she was cleaning.
"Are you serious?"
The old woman scowled. "Do I look like I'm joking?"
There was no elaborate ceremony. Just kneeling on the worn floor, three bows, and a muttered blessing from the master who once swore she'd never teach again.
That same afternoon, Nora received a follow-up from Celestial Script Group. They wanted her to join their Cultural Heritage Division as a creative consultant—with full flexibility, generous pay, and accommodations for Aiden.
Still, she hesitated.
"Isn't this... connected to the people from before?" she asked Madam Ruan.
The old woman stared her down. "You're not that girl anymore. But if you keep running from her, you'll never become who you're meant to be."
So Nora packed up her needles and her courage.
She was going back into the story she'd escaped.
But this time, on her own terms.