The lanterns in the garden burned lower as the night deepened, their flames bending in the faint breeze.
Hei Long stopped beneath a plum tree whose blossoms had begun to scatter, pale petals drifting like snow. He turned then, gaze moving from Qingxue to Yexin to Yuran — each of them taut with expectation, their breaths shallow, their hands curled into fists at their sides.
A Step Too Close
Qingxue broke first. She took one step forward, then another, until she was nearly chest-to-chest with him. Her voice trembled, though her eyes refused to waver.
"If you mean to test us," she whispered, "then let me be the first to fail."
Her hand rose, fingers brushing his sleeve — tentative, hesitant, as if touching him meant forfeiting the last of her pride.
Hei Long did not stop her.
