The night lingered longer than usual.
Xuanye stood by the open window, gazing at the quiet sprawl of Qingling Sect below — its pavilions outlined in silver light, its towers reaching toward the distant stars. The murmurs of disciples faded with the wind, leaving behind a silence that carried both serenity and the weight of expectation.
He took a slow breath, the night air cool against his face. Tomorrow, all eyes would be on him — the last heir of Qingling, standing against the black mist of chaos.
Footsteps approached softly from behind.
"Couldn't sleep either?" came a familiar, melodic voice.
He turned slightly, and there she was — Yue Chanyin, her white robe fluttering lightly in the breeze, the moon glinting against her pale hair. Her presence softened the chill around him.
Xuanye's expression, calm and almost solemn moments ago, eased into a faint smile.
"Yue Chanyin," he greeted, voice low but warm, "I thought you preferred avoiding me after that duel."
Her lips curved, half amused, half embarrassed.
"Avoid you? I simply didn't want to interrupt your… heroic silence."
He chuckled lightly. "So you did come to interrupt it after all."
She folded her arms, smirking.
"You seem tense. Worried about the finals?"
Xuanye exhaled, eyes still fixed on the sky. "A little. Hei Mu isn't someone who fights fair. His presence feels… wrong. But yes — I'll do what I must."
Yue Chanyin's gaze softened. She stepped closer, her voice gentler now.
"You'll do good. I believe in you."
Something flickered in Xuanye's chest — not pride, but warmth, unexpected and disarming.
"Careful," he said with a crooked grin, "I might start thinking you actually like me."
She blinked, half a second of silence, then frowned and turned away sharply.
"Then perhaps I should leave and let you enjoy your arrogance alone."
Before she could move, Xuanye reached out and caught her hand — gently, without force, but enough to stop her.
"Hey— I was kidding. Don't go," he said, laughing softly, the kind of laugh that could melt even her practiced composure.
Her irritation melted into reluctant amusement. "You're still insufferable."
"Only to you," he said, grinning wider.
They walked together then, side by side through the lantern-lit corridors of Qingling. The moon followed them like a watchful guardian. Their shadows stretched and danced across the stone path until they reached the steep steps of Qingling Peak, the highest cliff overlooking the entire sect.
There, they sat — shoulder to shoulder, the world below painted in the faint blue light of night. Wind brushed through their hair; the stillness felt almost sacred.
Xuanye broke the silence first.
"When we fought that day, I saw something in your sword — not just skill. It was heart. You fight for something precious."
Yue Chanyin tilted her head, her eyes reflecting starlight. "We all do. You fight for them — your people, your friends. I could see it in your eyes when you faced Tie Yuan. That was more than anger."
Xuanye smiled faintly. "Maybe. But you— you never back down, even when the odds aren't in your favor."
She smirked. "You mean when you defeated me?"
"Ah," Xuanye sighed with mock despair, "you still remember that?"
"Should I forget?" she teased. "After all, the great Young Master Ling defeated me in front of everyone."
He chuckled. "Speaking of forgetting— did you forget something else about our duel?"
Her brows rose slightly, an innocent expression masking the mischief in her eyes. "Oh? And what might that be?"
Xuanye leaned back, pretending to ponder. "A certain… reward, perhaps?"
Realization dawned, and color rushed to her cheeks. "You—" she started, half scandalized, half amused. "So you were waiting for that?"
He shrugged, trying to suppress a grin. "I merely recall someone making promises they didn't keep."
Yue Chanyin's lips curled into a smile that was equal parts playful and dangerous. "Is that so?"
He turned his head slightly away. "Well, if you've forgotten, I won't remind you—"
Before he could finish, she leaned in swiftly and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.The world stilled.
Xuanye froze — eyes wide, pulse thundering. Yue Chanyin pulled back just as fast, her face scarlet in the moonlight.
"Now you can't say I forgot," she muttered, rising quickly to her feet.
He blinked, speechless, still feeling the faint warmth where her lips had brushed his skin. "Wait— you—"
But she was already walking away, trying to hide her smile. "Sleep well, Young Master Ling."
He touched his cheek, utterly dazed. For the first time in weeks, a laugh — genuine and bright — escaped him. "She really did it…"
He stayed there for a while, looking out at the sea of clouds below the peak, until fatigue finally pulled him back toward his cottage.
Morning
The next morning came quietly. Qingling's courtyards buzzed with life as disciples stretched, trained, and gathered for the final preparations. Xuanye joined his group, pretending nothing unusual had happened.
But Yue Chanyin couldn't quite meet his eyes, and every time their gazes crossed, both quickly looked away — much to the amusement of the others.
Shui Lin nudged Huo Shan, smirking. "Looks like something happened between those two."
Huo Shan chuckled. "About time. I was starting to think our leader's cultivation turned him into a monk."
Xuanye caught them exchanging looks and immediately kicked Shui Lin's shin. "Stop whispering, you idiots."
Shui Lin laughed through the pain. "Ow— you're blushing, Young Master!"
"Am not," Xuanye said, turning away to hide the color creeping into his face.
They moved to the open field for morning training, the sunlight cutting through mist like molten gold. Huo Shan, bandaged but stubborn, insisted on sparring while Shui Lin teased him relentlessly. Yue Chanyin joined too — her movements sharp and graceful, pretending to ignore Xuanye, who deliberately provoked her with playful sword feints.
Laughter and lighthearted insults filled the air.For the first time in days, the tension that had wrapped around them loosened.
Tomorrow would bring chaos, but today — under that golden sun — they were just young cultivators, teasing, dueling, and dreaming.