The morning mist hung thick over the Winding Spirit Forest, clinging to ancient trees like ghostly shrouds. Jia Wei Xin led her team—Luo Han, Chen Yu, Mei Lan, Chang Dian, and the newly added Yan Ping—to the edge of the dense woods. The air pulsed with ancient energy—a blend of vibrant life and simmering threat.
She glanced down at the map Elder Yuan had given them. It looked like it had been drawn with a chicken's foot during an earthquake. Smudged markings circled supposed checkpoints and scribbled warnings like "possible beast nest—maybe."
Great. Confidence inspiring.
---
She adjusted the strap of her qiankun pouch, her fingers brushing a talisman tucked inside. Liu Mo Fei had handed it to her that morning with a knowing smirk, flicking it into her palm with that infuriating grace of his.
"Use it if you're ever in real danger," he'd said, with that damn wink that always made her suspicious.
That was it. No explanation. But now, under the thick canopy of trees, with the forest stretching endlessly before her, she felt its quiet weight in her pouch like a silent promise. Or maybe a very stylish "get out of jail free" card.
---
"You remember the plan, right?" she whispered to her team as they prepped.
"Yes!" three voices chimed in enthusiastically.
Chang Dian was already halfway through a piece of jerky, chewing like they weren't about to enter a death trap disguised as forest exploration.
The Sect's Grand Contest was straightforward only in concept: enter the forest, gather five rare spirit herbs, avoid being eaten, cursed, or cursed and eaten, and return before sundown. Points were awarded for speed, teamwork, and not dying. A fourth, unofficial score—"cool factor"—was discussed only in whispers, dramatic poses, and the occasional illustrated fan scroll that suspiciously resembled Chang Dian.
"Alright," she said. "Checkpoint one's a two-hour trek. Chen Yu, you lead. Luo Han, rear guard. Mei Lan, Yan Ping—you stay close to the middle with me. Chang Dian, scout, but stay visible. No disappearing for dramatic re-entrances."
"Are you saying I'm predictable?" he asked, flipping his hood.
"I'm saying I will sew a cowbell into your robe."
The group moved with efficient rhythm. Chen Yu prowled ahead like a silent blade. Luo Han's calm presence guarded their flank. Mei Lan offered a running commentary on every herb they passed, her explanations filled with obscure trivia and dire warnings about the consequences of misidentification ("One leaf of this and you'll be hallucinating for a week! And not the fun kind, either."), and Yan Ping, though new, kept pace with impressive agility, her small stature allowing her to navigate the undergrowth with the grace of a startled rabbit.
Even Chang Dian, drama incarnate, proved his worth—his scouting sharp, movements fluid, and banter tolerable. Mostly.
They were a team. And Jia Wei Xin was proud.
By the time the first hour passed, they had collected two rare herbs and gracefully dodged a thunder-toothed boar. The boar, after a brief show of aggression, seemed mildly embarrassed and simply wandered off.
---
Then came the ravine.
They had just reached its edge when Jia Wei Xin paused, squinting toward a patch of overgrown thorns across the rope bridge.
"This feels off."
The trees were too quiet. The air too still.
She turned. "Stay here. I'll scout ahead."
Before anyone could protest, she was already crossing the bridge. The creaking ropes groaned beneath her steps, but she moved fast—alert, focused.
And then—
A flicker.
A sound.
She landed on the far side and took three cautious steps before—
A volley of arrows burst from the foliage.
She leapt into a roll behind a rock, cursing. Arrows hissed past her. One grazed her shoulder.
Then something even worse dropped from the trees.
Elder Hua Lian.
If "resentment" had a physical form, it was now standing in front of her. Her once-beautiful robes were torn and filthy. Her right arm was mangled, her hair matted with dirt and blood, her face twisted with hatred. She looked like a vengeful ghost dragged out of a compost heap.
"You!" Jia Wei Xin snarled. "I thought you were taking a dirt nap."
"I couldn't wait," Hua Lian spat. "You ruined everything—my face, my arm, my reputation! I'll make you beg before I'm done. And then I'll rip that smug sifu of yours apart piece by piece!"
Hua Lian lunged, her blade streaking toward Jia Wei Xin. Demonic qi crackled off her in pulses, distorting the air. Their swords clashed, sparks raining as she attacked with rabid intensity.
Jia Wei Xin matched her blow for blow, but each hit came heavier, darker. The demonic energy wormed into her defenses, slowing her, making her limbs ache. She was tiring.
And then—Hua Lian saw an opening. She lunged, blade aimed straight for Jia Wei Xin's chest.
Too fast.
Jia Wei Xin lifted her sword to block—but she was too slow.
Then—Wind.
Flash.
Zhang Tian.
The air split with a sound like tearing silk. Zhang Tian materialized between them, his blade a black crescent meeting Hua Lian's strike—not with a clang, but a whisper.
"Tut-tut," he chided, flicking her sword into the bushes. "Bad elder."
Hua Lian snarled. Zhang Tian sighed. "And here I thought we'd have a civilized murder attempt."
But Hua Lian shrieked and came again—this time with clawed fingers crackling with corrupted energy.
Zhang Tian didn't hesitate. He pulled Jia Wei Xin behind him, one arm around her waist, the other channeling raw power.
With a harsh incantation, the air behind him split open. A black sigil bloomed midair, vines of dark qi writhing around it, silver flames dancing at its edges.
"Begone," he said, voice low and lethal.
A black spear materialized above his palm—shifting, jagged, alive.
It flew straight through Hua Lian's chest.
She froze mid-lunge, mouth open in a silent scream, before the spell exploded—her form vanishing in a burst of ash and light.
Her body halted mid-air, suspended in stunned silence, before dissolving into ash with a final, choking gasp.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Zhang Tian's eyes, however, were only on Jia Wei Xin.
Then the ground gave way.
---
They didn't land gently.
They crashed into the forest floor of a lower clearing in a tangle of limbs and robes, leaves exploding around them like confetti at the world's most violent wedding.
"Couldn't let you fall into a death chasm," Zhang Tian said, voice low and hoarse.
She blinked.
Realized her hands were curled tightly in his robe.
Realized... he was on top of her.
His knee—between her thighs. His chest—against hers. His eyes—far too focused on her face.
"You're heavy," she gasped.
"You're welcome," he replied—and didn't move.
Her cheeks went up in flames. "Get. Off."
He tilted his head. "Are you always this flustered after being rescued?"
"No! Just—stop looking at me like that!"
He didn't stop. He brushed a leaf from her cheek with one thumb. And didn't pull his hand away.
"You owe me," he murmured, voice dipped in silk and sin.
She groaned. "I'll owe you a kick to the shin."
Then he kissed her.
It started slow. Careful. Like he was asking a question she hadn't prepared for. Then it deepened—suddenly and irreversibly.
Her brain promptly blue-screened.
She froze. Then panicked. Then pushed.
Her hands fumbled in his robe just as—
"Jia Wei Xin!" a voice echoed from far off in the forest.
The kiss suddenly broke like it touched lightning. Zhang Tian let go—reluctantly.
Jia Wei Xin scrambled upright, face flaming, adjusting her cloak like it hadn't just been crushed by the full weight of Zhang Tian's ego and excellent cheekbones.
Zhang Tian didn't look even remotely guilty.
"You kissed me!" she hissed.
"Technically, I did all the work."
She looked like she wanted to summon a thunderbolt.He looked like he'd just won the Grand Contest. Twice.
---
Few seconds later, Mei Lan crashed through the bushes with Yan Ping right behind her, teary-eyed and pale.
"We thought you fell! Are you okay?!"
"I'm fine!" Jia Wei Xin said too quickly. "Totally fine. Not dead. Very alive. See?"
Luo Han and Chen Yu followed, glancing between her and Zhang Tian. Chang Dian raised one brow. Of course he did.
"I—it was lucky," she stammered, pointing randomly, "that Chang Dian arrived to save me!"
Jia Wei Xin turned away from Zhang Tian, trying very hard not to trip over air.
---
As they regrouped, she kept her face neutral. Her stride calm.
But she could feel it.
Zhang Tian's presence, just behind her.
Silent.
Unrelenting.
Watching her like she was the only thing worth protecting in this realm.
And maybe… the only thing he wanted.