The knock didn't come.
That was the first difference.
Lu Yan stood still, listening to the quiet after Lin Yue's departure. The room hadn't cooled yet. Frost lingered in the seams of stone. Her restraint always left marks like that—controlled, precise, hard to erase.
Then the warmth.
Subtle. Human. Close.
He didn't turn immediately.
"You can come in," he said, voice even.
The door opened with a soft scrape.
She hesitated on the threshold, like she was deciding whether she wanted to be seen at all.
When Lu Yan looked, he understood why the sect's attention had shifted.
Su Mei.
She wasn't wearing her elder's robe tonight. Just a pale inner layer, sleeves loose, hair pinned up in a way that suggested she hadn't planned to leave her quarters. The scent of herbs clung to her—clean, calming, deceptive.
She closed the door behind her.
"I wasn't sure if you were alone," she said.
"I am," Lu Yan replied.
She glanced at the floor, where faint frost scars still etched the stone. Her lips curved faintly. "Not recently."
He didn't deny it.
She stepped closer, unhurried. Su Mei had never rushed anything in her life. That was what made her dangerous.
"You've been destabilizing the inner court," she said lightly.
"Only indirectly."
"Indirect pressure can be worse." Her gaze lifted to him, steady. "You're compressing too much."
Lu Yan leaned back against the table again, mirroring his posture from earlier. "You came to scold me?"
She stopped a few paces away. Close enough that her warmth pressed against the cold Lin Yue had left behind.
"I came to see if the rumors were exaggerated."
"And?"
"They usually are." She paused. "This time, less so."
Silence thickened.
Su Mei's eyes flicked to his chest, then back up. "Your breathing is controlled, but your qi isn't resting."
"It's stable."
"Stability can be misleading," she said softly. "Especially when it's emotional."
He watched her closely now. "You're very interested."
She smiled faintly. "I'm an alchemist. Instability fascinates me."
She moved another step closer.
Physical proximity shifted the room. Her presence was different from Lin Yue's—less sharp, more enveloping. Like standing near a slow fire instead of ice.
Lu Yan felt it immediately.
Not arousal.
Awareness.
The Manual stirred, curious.
New vector detected. Emotional contrast potential high.
Su Mei's gaze lingered on his face. "You don't look surprised."
"I was told to expect attention."
She chuckled quietly. "They're not subtle, are they?"
"No."
"And yet you invite it."
"I don't refuse it."
That earned a longer look.
"You know," she said, voice low, "Lin Yue came to the pill pavilion this afternoon."
Lu Yan didn't react.
"She didn't ask for anything," Su Mei continued. "She stood there. Silent. Watched me work."
"And?"
"She wanted to know how to calm something without extinguishing it."
Lu Yan's eyes narrowed a fraction. "What did you tell her?"
Su Mei smiled, slow and unreadable. "That some reactions need a second catalyst."
The space between them tightened.
"You," Lu Yan said.
"Possibly." She tilted her head. "Or someone else."
He studied her. "You didn't clarify."
"No."
She took another step.
Now she was close enough that he could smell the warmth of her skin beneath the herbs. Close enough that her sleeve brushed his wrist.
She didn't pull away.
"You're letting her burn," Su Mei said quietly. "And freeze. At the same time."
"She's choosing it."
"Yes," Su Mei agreed. "And you're enjoying watching."
Lu Yan didn't deny it.
Su Mei's eyes softened—not with indulgence, but with understanding. "Careful. That kind of pressure can fracture."
"It can refine," he countered.
"Or it can attract interference."
Her fingers lifted, hovering near his sleeve. Not touching.
"Like this?" he asked.
"Like me," she said calmly.
The honesty landed heavy.
The Manual chimed, pleased and intrusive.
[Secondary Interest Engaged]
Contrast Catalyst: Active
Jealousy Feedback Loop: Expanding
Lu Yan's core responded—not surging, but deepening. The pressure shifted, redistributing, like a weight settling into a stronger foundation.
Foundation Establishment — Late Stage (Compression, Reinforced)
Su Mei felt it. Her breath stilled for half a beat.
"You're changing," she murmured.
"So are you," he replied.
Her lips curved. "Perhaps."
She stepped back then, deliberately breaking the closeness before it could tip.
"I won't stay," she said. "Not tonight."
"I didn't ask you to."
"I know." She turned toward the door, then paused. "But Lin Yue will feel this."
He met her gaze. "Good."
Su Mei's smile sharpened. "You really are cruel."
"Yes."
She left without another word.
The warmth lingered after she was gone, layered awkwardly over frost. The room felt crowded with absence.
Lu Yan exhaled slowly.
Outside, voices murmured. Footsteps paused. Someone else had seen Su Mei leave his quarters.
By morning, the sect would be buzzing.
And Lin Yue—
The thought hadn't finished forming when frost brushed his door again.
Not a knock.
A reaction.
Lu Yan smiled faintly, eyes dark.
The night wasn't done extracting its cost.
And neither was he.