Lin Jian's progress had been swift, almost irritatingly so. He was always moving forward, always training, always improving. We still managed to meet once a month—just the two of us, for a quick catch-up, a sparring match, or the occasional fishing trip. I'd lost some of the drive I once had for the investigation we'd started months ago. Nothing was going anywhere. So, I decided it was time to call it quits. I asked Lin Jian to take a walk, to talk it through.
We were in the middle of discussing the case when a familiar voice stopped us. "Lin Jian!" It was Li Yang. The moment she appeared, the air seemed to shift, carrying the delicate scent of plum blossoms with her. She smiled and approached him, her hand outstretched with a silver pendant dangling between her fingers.
"I found this at the market," she said, her tone playful. "Thought it might bring you good luck."
Lin Jian's expression softened, and his hand reached for the pendant with that calm, steady grace I'd seen so many times. "Thank you, Li Yang," he said, his voice warm. I watched, almost detached, as he fastened the pendant to his waist, the silver catching the sunlight.
A strange feeling curled in my stomach. It wasn't jealousy—not exactly—but something else. Something that made my grip on the straps of my bag tighten. I forced myself to look away, but the words came out before I could stop them. "It's a nice pendant," I said, almost too casually, though my voice felt strained.
Lin Jian glanced at me—just a flicker of acknowledgment—and then returned his gaze to Li Yang. "Thanks, Yinuo," he said, his voice still light, though there was something different in the way he spoke to me. "You notice all the small things."
I nodded, but I couldn't help the tightness in my chest. It was subtle, but there was a shift in his tone—one that made something inside of me feel…off. Was it just the situation, or was it something more? Did I care more than I wanted to admit?
I shook the thought off, trying to regain some composure. "You should be careful with charms like that," I said. "They say they bring good luck, but sometimes they can be... more trouble than they're worth."
Lin Jian's eyes lingered on me for a moment, then shifted back to Li Yang. The way his attention flitted back and forth between us unsettled me. Was I imagining this? Was this... normal?
After a beat of uncomfortable silence, I cleared my throat. "Anyway, that's why I wanted to talk. I'm ending it. There's nothing left to follow. What do you think?"
Lin Jian didn't hesitate. He just shrugged lightly, as if the decision didn't bother him either way. "That's fine. If you need anything, you know where to find me."
I turned to walk away. My mind still echoed with the image of him smiling at Li Yang, that spark in his eyes when she'd given him the pendant. It wasn't a big deal, I told myself. Not really.
But the strange feeling inside me lingered, like a weight I couldn't shake off.
Seeking solace, I went back to my room, my peridot sword sitting on the altar. A soft glow emanated from it, a silent acknowledgment of my inner turmoil. The warmth from the light helped to soothe my feelings.
Later, as Master Xinyue and I dined, he inquired subtly about my day, his gaze watchful for shifts in my demeanor. He presented me with a new set of fur coats, dyed in rich reds and pristine whites. He knows, of course, my preference for white. It's not merely a preference; it's a necessity. The faintest smudge, the slightest imperfection, feels like a violation. My world must be impeccably clean, a sanctuary of spotless surfaces and unblemished fabrics. The very thought of anything else... it's unsettling, a discordant note in the symphony of my meticulously ordered life. White is my refuge, my purity, my obsession.
As I walked back to my room, a shadow flickered across the stone path. Instinct kicked in. I drew my dagger, its edge catching the moonlight as I spun.
A soft grunt.
"You always this dramatic before bed?" Lin Jian's voice, dry and amused, cut through the tension.
Without thinking, I lunged. He didn't even bother drawing his sword—just caught my wrist and twisted until I was pinned, back against the old oak behind the courtyard. His braided curls brushed my cheek, warm and clean. He smelled faintly of sunlit cotton and something soft—like the skin of a newborn warmed by sleep. His sleeves swept past, blue and green like flame and sea, flickering as if they breathed.
I stared at him, incredulous. "You seriously just disarmed me with zero effort?"
He grinned, maddeningly calm. "You've gotten predictable."
I scoffed, yanking my arm back as he let go. "You could've warned me."
"I could've," he agreed, "but where's the fun in that?"
I turned to leave, but he matched my pace. "By the way," he said, casually like he wasn't still too close, "why do you let Li Yang hang around me so much?"
I slowed, glancing at him from the corner of my eye. "What do you mean?"
He shrugged, the hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "I don't know... maybe just curious. You don't usually let people get so close to your... business."
I stopped walking for a moment, my heart unexpectedly pounding. "Who says you're part of that business?" I shot back, trying to mask the unease creeping up in me.
"I didn't say I was." His voice was low, unreadable.
I raised an eyebrow. "Is this your way of fishing for a confession?"
"Maybe," he shrugged. "Wouldn't be the first time someone fell in love with my charm."
I let out a laugh, sharp, disbelieving. "Charm? Please. The only thing you've got going for you is tactical annoyance."
He placed a hand dramatically over his chest. "You wound me."
"Good."
We stood there for a beat, the silence full of unspoken things.
He broke it first. "You're not half bad in a fight. Clumsy, sure, but scrappy."
"A compliment? Did you hit your head earlier?"
He smirked. "Don't get used to it."
I sighed, stretching out my shoulder. "Come on, let's go. You're going to whine about my technique the whole way back, aren't you?"
"Absolutely."
He walked me back, carrying my sword like it was nothing, tossing it up and catching it midair just to annoy me. I let him. At my door, he gave a mock bow.
"Try not to stab any more shadows tonight."
"Try not to lurk like one," I replied, smirking.
I slipped inside, the door clicking shut behind me. But I didn't sleep right away. I stared at the ceiling, smiling like an idiot, talking quietly to my peridot blade resting nearby.
"He's still insufferable," I muttered, "but maybe... not completely intolerable."
The blade shimmered faintly in agreement.