Lianxiu was still chattering — half-words tumbling over laughter — when the door slid open again.
"Gege?"
Both heads turned. Wei Jingyan stood by the doorway, holding a scroll case and wearing the faintest expression of surprise — the kind so measured it looked almost rehearsed. His gaze drifted over the scene.
"Bringing breakfast to Xiuyuan-shixiong, are we?" he said with a hint of amusement.
Lianxiu straightened instantly, flustered. "He wasn't feeling well last night, so I thought—just as a junior should—"
Wei nodded gravely. "Ah, yes. The ever-dutiful junior. Carrying your half-drunk senior through a window and now serving him breakfast. Admirable devotion indeed."
Lianxiu froze, horrified. "You—you saw that?!"
Wei's tone was mild, but the curve of his lips betrayed him. "I was passing by the courtyard. I thought I saw a ghost carrying someone in the night. Turns out it was just you."
Xiuyuan sighed softly, rubbing his temple. "Wei Jingyan."
Wei met his gaze and offered a small bow. "Good morning, Shixiong."
"Enough Jingyan."
"Noted." Wei inclined his head again, though his smile didn't fade. "Then I'll take my leave. I only came to deliver the reports from Master Wen." He set the scroll down on the table beside them. "Enjoy your meal."
When he left, the room went quiet again — save for Lianxiu's barely contained laughter.
"He's really something," Xiuyuan muttered, returning to his scroll.
Lianxiu leaned his chin on his palm, watching him with a dreamy grin. "He is. But I'm still glad he didn't interrupt me earlier."
Xiuyuan shot him a look over the rim of his cup.
Morning sunlight poured across Jingshou Peak like melted gold. Bells chimed above the training courts, summoning all disciples to gather. The scent of pine and incense filled the courtyard as the sect stirred into lively order once again.
Master Pei Yunsheng and Master Yue Lan stood at the front, scrolls in hand. Their calm presence silenced the crowd of chattering juniors.
"Today," announced Yue Lan with a bright smile, "is not a day for practice or meditation."
A murmur swept through the disciples. No practice? That alone was worth celebrating.
Pei Yunsheng stepped forward, arms folded, his voice firm but amused.
He announced, his tone firm but kind. "Each senior disciple will accompany a newly joined junior to purchase their first sword and essentials. Consider this both an errand and a lesson in responsibility."
The juniors straightened at once, eyes bright with excitement.
"Every new disciple must have a sword worthy of them. As is custom, our seniors will escort them to City's market to choose one. But—"
He paused, his tone suddenly lighter, "—instead of assigning pairs as we usually do, we'll let fate decide."
Laughter and whispers rose instantly.
From a small chest beside her, Yue Lan lifted a tray filled with tiny clay flowers, each molded by hand and painted in different hues — crimson, jade, gold, white.
"There are pairs of each color," she explained. "One for the seniors, one for the juniors. Whoever picks matching flowers will be partners for tomorrow's city trip."
Roulan gasped audibly. "That's so cute! Adorable!"
Pei Yunsheng coughed. "Adorable or not, it saves me the headache of choosing." Laughter rippled through the crowd.
Soon the courtyard brimmed with excitement as disciples crowded around the tray.
The juniors drew first—Roulan pulled a scarlet blossom, Nie Xiaohuan a blue. Others picked too.
Then came the seniors' turn.
Zhou Qingrong strode forward, unbothered by the fuss, and picked a scarlet flower. Roulan squeaked, "Fate favors me!"
Zhou Qingrong arched an eyebrow but couldn't hide her smile.
Han Yuejian followed, selecting a blue bloom—Nie Xiaohuan grinned proudly.
Then Wei Jingyan approached. Calm, polite, his gaze drifted over the remaining flowers—gold, white, and the faintest shade of pale pink. He reached toward the tray, but the last pink one was gone.
He turned slightly, scanning the crowd, and his eyes found her—the quiet junior clutching the pink flower to her chest.
Wei Jingyan paused, then smiled—soft and genuine. "So it's you," he said, almost to himself.
Pei Yunsheng nodded approvingly. "Wei Jingyan and Lin Wuyue—another pair decided by fate."
The girl bowed quickly. "I… I'll do my best, Shixiong."
"Don't worry," Wei Jingyan replied warmly. "Just remember to smile sometimes. The world's kinder when you do."
Her lips curved, just barely.
Finally, Shen Lianxiu came bouncing forward, praying dramatically under his breath: "Heavens, grant me a miracle today." He plunged his hand into the tray and drew out a white flower, holding it up like a trophy.
"White—pure as my intentions!" he declared, earning groans and laughter.
Ling Xiuyuan stepped up last. Without even glancing at the tray, he reached in and lifted the remaining white flower.
The crowd erupted.
Lianxiu froze for half a breath, then his grin spread ear to ear. "Heaven listens to those with pure hearts!"
Xiuyuan sighed quietly.
The courtyard filled with laughter. Roulan waved her flower; Nie Xiaohuan gave his Shixiong a respectful bow; and somewhere near the back, Lin Wuyue peeked up shyly to watch everyone laughing in the sunlight.
Lianxiu, meanwhile, followed close behind Xiuyuan, humming like a lovesick fool. "Do you believe in fate, Shixiong?"
Xiuyuan didn't answer.
"I do," Lianxiu whispered to himself, smiling at the white flower in his hand.