On February 2, 2025, in Bangkok, sunlight poured down like honey, warm and textured.

Fang Zhe pondered long on the road, wondering how to convey yesterday’s oracle to Lin Jingxue. The Lord had said to love her as a father loves a daughter and to help her. These instructions echoed in his mind, like an ancient melody not yet fully grasped.

To him, the answer seemed clear. He needed to set aside romantic feelings for Lin Jingxue and care for her with a fatherly love, like tending to a child in need of guidance. This way, he could fulfill the Lord’s mission and calm the current storm, returning everything to its proper course, like a river flowing back to its original path.

With this resolve, he arrived at Lin Jingxue’s home, his steps steady and firm.

She stood by the window, bathed in morning light. Sunlight filtered through half-open curtains, tracing a soft golden edge along her silhouette, like a figure in a sacred oil painting. Before Fang Zhe could speak, she began, her voice calm yet resolute.

She turned, her eyes shimmering with gentle light. "Did you know? The Lord called me 'good child,' like His most cherished follower."

Sunlight cast dappled shadows on the floor, like a flowing painting. Fang Zhe stood listening, his thoughts a rushing river, yet he didn’t interrupt her.

"The Lord’s words—'love her as a father loves a daughter'—don’t mean abandoning our bond," Lin Jingxue said, gazing out the window, her eyes distant. "It means our love can’t be limited to romance alone. It must encompass all forms of love—not small love, but great love. Like the Lord’s love for us, it includes fatherly care, wisdom, guidance… a boundless expanse of emotion."

She stepped onto the balcony, looking at the skyline as the city awoke in the morning light. "The Lord told Lan Haiying that you are kin, and I’m your family. He was hinting that your marriage will change. You’ll shift from husband and wife to kin, and I’ll become another kind of family in your life."

Fang Zhe’s brow furrowed, doubts swirling within. This interpretation puzzled him, yet it felt faintly plausible. He hesitated to trust it fully, fearing it was merely the answer they wanted—a distortion of truth, a mirage to quench their thirst.

A breeze carried the scent of sandalwood, perhaps from a nearby temple’s morning rites. Sensing his uncertainty, Lin Jingxue added, "Have you noticed? All three of us are trapped in our own knots, bound by invisible chains, unable to move forward."

Fang Zhe leaned against the balcony railing, gazing into the distance. The sounds of people, traffic, and temple bells felt far off, like echoes from another world. A realization began to form, like the first light before dawn.

Lin Jingxue nodded. "Lan Haiying’s knot is reputation. Maintaining a perfect marriage protects her honor but sacrifices her happiness. She’d rather waste away in a loveless union than face the criticism change brings."

"And your knot is…" Fang Zhe ventured cautiously.

"Marrying you," she replied, her voice steady and firm. "Marriage is the fruit of love, the fulfillment of a soul’s covenant. I always believed it would complete our bond, merging our timelines to fulfill the Lord’s task. But this obsession became my shackle."

A pigeon landed on the railing, tilting its head curiously at them, a silent witness. Suddenly, Fang Zhe grasped a crucial insight—a key to unraveling the mystery.

"My knot can’t untie itself," he said slowly, as if realizing a truth. "It waits for one of you—either you or Lan Haiying—to untie yours first. Then mine will follow, like a chain reaction."

Lin Jingxue gazed at him, her eyes clear as water. "And the Lord has already prepared a way out for us all. Don’t you see? His will is for us to focus on the mission first, letting go of these tangled emotional bonds."

Fang Zhe straightened, resolute. Yes, the mission. The sacred task of writing a new Bible—this was the Lord’s priority, their current focus.

"It’s a choice, isn’t it?" he asked, voice low and firm. "The Lord’s will or fate—which matters more? Which should come first?"

"What’s your answer?" Lin Jingxue countered, her gaze piercing.

"I choose the Lord’s will," Fang Zhe replied without hesitation, his voice steady. "Fate is God’s general plan, but His will is His specific command. The general yields to the specific, like tributaries joining the main river. Choosing His will, God will guide fate’s course, leading us to the right path."

As he spoke, he felt an unprecedented lightness, as if a burden carried for years had lifted. Like that golden gate from long ago reopening, illuminating the fog, dispelling the shadows within. He looked at Lin Jingxue and saw understanding in her eyes, their souls finally resonating on the same frequency.

Though she didn’t explicitly agree, Fang Zhe knew she’d accepted this insight. She no longer insisted on an immediate divorce but was willing to focus on the Lord’s mission first. In the choice between will and fate, she too chose the will—a silent covenant between them.

"As for Lan Haiying’s knot," Lin Jingxue said softly, "let the Lord arrange it. Our task is to begin writing the new Bible, recording this era’s revelations."

Lord, Your wisdom is so profound, Your plan so perfect. We were lost in an emotional maze, yet You’d already prepared our escape. Grant us courage to release our stubbornness, wisdom to see Your will, and strength to fulfill Your mission. Under Your guidance, may our knots unravel, our souls find freedom. Amen.