Lu Yan woke to warmth that wasn't his.
It didn't touch him. Didn't intrude. Just hovered at the edge of his awareness, persistent, patient, unmistakably human.
He didn't open his eyes right away.
Last night still sat heavy in his chest—Lin Yue's frost slicing the air, Su Mei's quiet heat lingering where it didn't belong. Two pressures pulling in opposite directions, neither willing to collapse.
His core answered both.
Dense. Layered. Silent.
Foundation Establishment — Late Stage (Compression, Reinforced)
Stable enough to hold.
He exhaled slowly and rose, washing his face in cold water. The reflection that stared back at him looked calm. It always did. That was the part people misunderstood.
Outside, the sect woke reluctantly. Morning mist clung low to the stone paths, muting footsteps, blurring outlines. Lu Yan stepped into it and felt eyes follow him immediately.
Not curious.
Expectant.
They already knew.
At the outer pavilion, Su Mei stood with a group of inner disciples, sleeves rolled slightly as she demonstrated a refinement method. Her voice was steady, composed. She didn't look toward Lu Yan.
Not once.
Lin Yue stood at the far edge of the crowd.
She wasn't watching the demonstration.
She was watching Su Mei.
Lu Yan stopped where the mist thinned, leaning against a pillar. He didn't announce himself. He didn't need to.
Lin Yue felt him.
Her frost shifted, a subtle tightening around her feet. Her posture stiffened—not away from Su Mei.
Toward him.
Su Mei finished her explanation and stepped back, finally lifting her gaze.
Their eyes met.
Su Mei didn't smile.
She inclined her head, just slightly. Respectful. Measured.
Lin Yue's jaw clenched.
The disciples dispersed, murmuring. The space between the three of them stretched wide and thin.
Lu Yan didn't move.
Su Mei approached first.
"Good morning," she said, voice calm.
"Yes," he replied.
She stopped a polite distance away. Close enough to feel. Far enough to claim nothing.
"You didn't sleep much," she observed.
"No."
Lin Yue's frost crept another inch outward.
Su Mei noticed.
Her lips curved faintly. "That happens when reactions are… ongoing."
Lu Yan's gaze flicked to Lin Yue.
She stepped forward before he could speak.
"Did you come to supervise?" Lin Yue asked Su Mei coolly.
"No," Su Mei replied without missing a beat. "I came to teach."
"And afterward?"
Su Mei considered her. "Afterward, I'll leave."
Lin Yue's eyes narrowed. "You didn't last night."
The mist thickened, frost blooming faintly at Lin Yue's heels.
Su Mei didn't look away. "I was invited."
Silence snapped tight.
Lu Yan shifted his weight, the smallest movement. Both women felt it immediately.
"I didn't invite you to compete," he said evenly.
Su Mei inclined her head. "Of course not."
Lin Yue didn't respond. Her gaze stayed locked on Su Mei.
"You left warmth behind," Lin Yue said.
Su Mei's eyes softened, just a fraction. "You erased it."
"I didn't ask you to leave any," Lin Yue replied.
"I didn't ask you to feel it."
The words cut.
Lu Yan's core tightened, pressure redistributing again.
The Manual stirred, delighted.
Triangular jealousy stabilized. Yield trending upward.
"Enough," Lu Yan said quietly.
Both women turned to him.
"You're standing too close," Lin Yue said.
"To him," Su Mei corrected gently.
Lu Yan raised a brow. "To the situation."
Lin Yue exhaled sharply. "You don't deny it."
"There's nothing to deny," he replied.
Her frost flared, then receded with effort.
"You let her near you," Lin Yue said. "After everything."
"And you stood beside Wei," Lu Yan said calmly. "After everything."
Su Mei's eyes flicked between them, sharp and attentive.
Lin Yue stiffened. "That was different."
"Was it?" he asked.
She hesitated.
Su Mei spoke then, voice low. "Lin Yue, you're reacting to contrast."
Lin Yue's gaze snapped to her. "Don't analyze me."
"I can't help it," Su Mei said softly. "It's how I understand."
Lu Yan watched Lin Yue's control strain. Frost thickened, then thinned again, responding to emotion she refused to name.
"You enjoy this," Lin Yue said to Lu Yan.
"I'm aware of it," he replied.
"That's worse."
Su Mei's gaze lingered on him. "You don't interrupt."
"No," he agreed.
"You let us collide."
"Yes."
Lin Yue took a step back, as if the ground had shifted under her feet.
"This isn't balance," she said. "It's displacement."
Lu Yan nodded slightly. "That's how growth happens."
Her eyes searched his face, desperate for something softer.
She didn't find it.
"I won't be made smaller," she said.
"You aren't," he replied. "You're being seen."
Her breath hitched.
Su Mei took a careful step back, creating space. "I should go."
Lin Yue didn't look at her. "You will."
Su Mei inclined her head to Lu Yan. "Later."
She turned and left, her warmth trailing faintly behind her like a promise she hadn't made.
The mist swallowed her.
Lin Yue stood rigid, frost coiling tight.
"You didn't stop her," she said again.
"You didn't ask me to," Lu Yan replied.
"I shouldn't have to."
"That's possession," he said gently.
Her control snapped—not violently, but inward. Frost collapsed into a tight ring, sharp and disciplined.
"I don't possess," she said. "I choose."
"Then choose," he replied.
Silence.
Disciples pretended not to listen. Elders pretended not to see.
The sect breathed in unison, waiting.
Lin Yue turned away abruptly.
"I need to train," she said. "Alone."
"Yes," Lu Yan replied.
She paused, then glanced back once. "If she comes again—"
"I won't stop her," he said.
Her eyes darkened. "Then I won't retreat."
She left, frost whispering across stone.
Lu Yan watched her go, pressure settling deeper into his core.
Foundation Establishment — Late Stage (Compression, Near Breakpoint)
The Manual pulsed.
Primary bond nearing inflection.
—
Afternoon bled into evening.
Lu Yan trained alone, movements slow and precise, each breath a measured release of pressure he refused to let spill. The sect watched from a distance, whispers curling like smoke.
"She's angry."
"He didn't chase."
"Su Mei was there."
"That's dangerous."
By nightfall, the rumors had grown teeth.
Lu Yan returned to his quarters as the moon climbed, light silvering the stone.
The warmth returned before he reached the door.
Not knocking.
Waiting.
He opened it.
Su Mei stood there again, this time with her elder's robe half-fastened, hair slightly undone. Her expression was composed, but her eyes held something sharper now.
"I told you I'd leave," she said.
"You did."
"I didn't say I wouldn't return."
He stepped aside.
She entered, closing the door behind her.
Lin Yue's frost wasn't here this time.
Just warmth.
"You shouldn't be here," Lu Yan said.
"I know."
"You're being watched."
"I'm always watched."
She moved closer, unhurried.
"You didn't deny anything today," she said.
"I don't deny truth."
"You let her hear."
"Yes."
"That was unkind."
"I'm not kind," he replied.
Her lips curved faintly. "I noticed."
She stopped just out of reach.
"You're compressing too far," she said quietly. "If this continues—"
"It will break," he finished.
"Or transform," she countered.
He studied her. "You want to be the catalyst."
"I want to understand," she said. "Before it's too late."
"For whom?"
She hesitated. "For her."
"And you?" he asked.
Her breath caught. "For me."
The honesty hung between them.
Lin Yue's frost brushed the outer wall—distant, reactive.
Su Mei felt it. "She's close."
"Yes."
"She'll feel this."
"Yes."
Su Mei stepped back, deliberately creating space. "Then I won't stay."
She turned toward the door.
At the threshold, she paused. "You're cruel."
"Yes."
"And careful."
"Yes."
She left.
The warmth faded.
The frost surged.
The door rattled softly as Lin Yue's presence pressed close on the other side.
Lu Yan didn't open it.
He leaned back against the wall, eyes closing briefly as his core thrummed—compressed, stable, waiting.
The night pressed in from both sides.
And somewhere between frost and heat, something inside him shifted—quietly, irrevocably.
Tomorrow, the sect would choose sides.
And so would she.