Fang Yuan's mind blanked.
What?
He turned just in time to see Fang Tian step forward with unexpected intensity.
The crowd stirred.
"I, Fang Tian," the young man declared, "vow to train with all my strength. And in three years, I will personally challenge Gu Xin… and reclaim the honor my family lost today!"
Fang Yuan's composure cracked.
Huh? WHAT?
He stared at his brother.
What the hell are you doing!? This was already a done deal! The engagement is off! Everyone's saving face! Why are you throwing down a challenge now!?
He wanted to scream. Tian! Are you STUPID!?
The entire pavilion froze for the second time that day.
Whispers began again but this time, far less respectful.
"…Did he just… challenge the direct disciple of the Divine Ice Sect?"
"Reclaim… honor?"
"Was there even honor lost?"
"Oh dear heavens…"
Elder Mo blinked. He hadn't expected this.
Gu Xin turned her head slightly just enough for a subtle furrow to form between her brows.
Fang Yuan stared dead ahead, face neutral.
While there was an utter tremors in his brain
Three years? THREE YEARS!? What am I supposed to do with that? Are you declaring war? An open challenge to one of the four great sects!? And what honor? No one insulted us!
He closed his eyes briefly, inhaled through his nose, and exhaled slowly.
Then opened them and smiled.
"I see," he said.
No, I don't see. I can't see anything. I've gone blind from secondhand embarrassment.
The entire room watched, waiting for his reaction.
Would he disavow his brother?
Would he spin it?
Or would he commit spiritual seppuku from sheer shame?
But Fang Yuan was nothing if not a master of banquets and blades.
He straightened his back.
Lifted his chin and with the best of his strength.
And said in a somewhat calm voice, "Then I shall look forward to seeing what my brother becomes in three years."
Elder Mo let out a slow, measured chuckle when he heard Fang Yaun.
It was the kind of laugh that held neither mockery nor warmth, merely the chilly amusement of someone who'd just been handed an unexpected gift of comedy.
"What fortuitous timing," he said, folding his hands behind his back. "In three years, the Divine Ice Sect will indeed be holding our next Sect Examination. If… Young Master Fang Tian here can pass the entrance, then perhaps—perhaps—he may be eligible to challenge Gu Xin."
He turned to the crowd with an elegant nod, as though sealing a royal decree.
The implication was clear.
You want to duel our sect leader's direct disciple? Then climb the mountain first.
Around the pavilion, the guests didn't even bother hiding their reactions this time.
"Oh heavens…"
"That's not just any examination—"
"Even geniuses struggle to enter…"
"Challenge Gu Xin? She's already…!"
They didn't say it aloud, but the conclusion hung heavily in the air: This boy has no chance.
Gu Xin, standing to the side like a sculpture of snow, didn't react at all.
Because she didn't have to.
At the age of eighteen, she had already reached the late stage of Golden Core realm.
A feat so absurd it would sound like fiction to most small cities.
And more critically… it was two years younger than when Fang Yuan himself touched golden core realm.
The audience didn't miss the comparison.
If Fang Yuan was hailed as Coldwind's unrivaled genius… then Gu Xin was something greater.
Peerless.
Untouchable.
Divine.
Fang Yuan felt the room's perception shift in real-time.
The glances thrown at Gu Xin weren't just respectful, they were reverent.
And the ones aimed at Fang Tian?
Pitying. Curious. Amused.
Even he had to admit it: Yeah… my brother is about to dive headfirst into a cliff without any sort of protective gears. Especially a cliff he dug out himself.
He glanced at Fang Tian again.
The boy stood tall, fists clenched, determination practically leaking out of his pores.
And yet, Fang Yuan's eye twitched.
Why? You have Fang Mei already!
Brother, be for real!
Fang Yuan closed his eyes briefly and sighed.
Then, unbidden, a line surfaced in his memory.
A song from Earth.
"Only know you love her when you let her go… and you let her go…"
He opened his eyes, dead inside.
Ugh. That's so cringe.
He glanced back at his brother, who was currently staring at Gu Xin.
And then over to Fang Mei, who had just returned with the jade scroll, looking between the two with conflicted eyes and an awkward little smile.
Fang Yuan sighed again.
Fine. Let's say this is love. I won't interfere.
But three years, Tian. Three years. If you're still in Qi Condensation by then, I'll send you and Fang Mei far far away, remotely far away and have you two settle down.
Still smiling, Fang Yuan stepped forward and gently took the scroll from Fang Mei's hands.
He offered it to Elder Mo with a light bow.
"The contract," he said.
"Thank you for honoring it… and for giving us the opportunity to rewrite its terms under clearer skies."
Elder Mo received it with a calm nod.
Their fingers touched briefly on the exchange.
No more words passed.
But the smile behind Mo's eyes said it all:
Looks like I win this round, clan head Fang.
Fang Yuan clicked his tongue while Elder Mo offered a shallow bow.
"Then we shall not linger," he said, voice clipped and smooth. "The Divine Ice Sect has spoken. In three years… let fate decide."
Gu Xin didn't speak, not even once during this whole exchange.
She gave one last glance towards the mountains beyond the city walls as if this entire visit had been little more than a passing flake in her winter-bound path.
She turned with the elegance of a falling snow petal and followed Elder Mo.
The disciples of the Divine Ice Sect moved with silent precision, their departure as seamless as their arrival.
And just like that…
They were gone.
Only the frost in the air remained.
The moment the last of their figures disappeared past the grand pavilion gate, the atmosphere collapsed in on itself.
Awkward coughs, stiff shifts of posture, and the scraping of chairs followed like a delayed echo.