They passed beneath the red archway gates as dusk deepened into velvet night, lanterns bobbing in the warm breeze like drifting fire spirits.
Yuxin slowed her stride, gaze gliding over the vivid market streets: paper fans painted with cranes, trays of sugared lotus seeds, the crackling aroma of grilled river eel wafting from corner stalls. It was all color and noise and life—a sharp, almost dizzying contrast to the frozen graveyard they'd just left behind.
Tian Lei, predictably, walked through it all like a blade through fog. Straight-backed. Silent. Utterly untempted.
Yuxin sighed, long and theatrical, as she fell into step beside him. "You know," she said lightly, "the world isn't going to implode if you breathe in a little joy."
"I am breathing," he replied, without slowing.
"That's debatable." Her veil hid the smirk curling her lips. "Fortunately, I happen to be an expert in morale logistics."
