They left at dawn.
Not ceremonially. Not cleanly.
Just the sound of boots on stone and a line of figures moving through the outer gate while the mist still clung to the ground like it didn't want to let go.
Lu Yan walked in the middle.
He could feel it—the way space bent around him now. Not power flaring. Pressure. Contained. Every step measured so it wouldn't leak.
Foundation Establishment — Late Stage. Saturated.
No breakthrough yet.
The Manual was patient. It always was, right before it wasn't.
Zhao Qingyue walked half a step ahead on his left. Lin Yue half a step behind on his right.
A coincidence only in formation charts.
Neither spoke.
Their silence was louder than the junior disciples' whispers drifting forward and back along the line.
"She didn't sleep," someone murmured.
"He didn't either."
"Of course not."
Lu Yan kept his gaze forward. He didn't need to look to know Zhao Qingyue's shoulders were too straight, that Lin Yue's breathing was too even. Control on display. For him. For each other.
The path narrowed as they entered the foothills beyond the sect's wards. Trees leaned close. Sound softened. The world felt smaller.
Good terrain for mistakes.
The team leader—a senior disciple named He Zhen—raised a hand for a brief halt near a shallow stream. "Ten minutes. Drink. Check talismans."
The group dispersed.
Zhao Qingyue knelt by the water, cupping her hands. Lin Yue stopped a few steps away, pretending to check her storage ring.
Lu Yan stayed where he was.
Waiting.
It came anyway.
"You're walking wrong."
He turned slightly. Lin Yue stood closer than before. Close enough that the hem of her sleeve brushed his wrist when the breeze shifted.
"How so?" he asked.
"You're not compensating for the incline." Her eyes flicked downward, then back up. "You're distracted."
"Observant."
"I have to be."
Her fingers hovered near his arm. Didn't touch. Didn't need to.
"You let her set the pace," she continued. "You always do when she's angry."
Zhao Qingyue looked over from the stream.
Not sharply. Precisely.
"I'm not angry," she said.
Lin Yue smiled without warmth. "That's worse."
Zhao Qingyue rose, water dripping from her hands. She took her time walking back. Deliberate. Each step a statement.
"You're behind me because you chose to be," she said to Lin Yue. "Don't confuse proximity with priority."
Lu Yan shifted then. Just enough to break the line between them.
"Enough," he said.
Both women turned to him.
Not relieved.
Interested.
He Zhen cleared his throat loudly from upstream. "We move in two."
The moment broke—but it didn't vanish. It lodged. Stayed.
They continued.
By midday, the terrain grew rougher. Stone outcroppings. Twisted roots. The trial zone's edge loomed ahead, marked by broken pillars half-swallowed by moss.
That was when the first tremor hit.
Not from the ground.
From inside.
Lu Yan staggered half a step, catching himself before anyone else noticed.
Pressure surged, sharp and insistent.
Emotional vectors intersecting. Compression unstable.
The Manual didn't announce itself fully. It never did when it wanted him aware, not informed.
Zhao Qingyue noticed anyway.
She didn't reach for him. She stepped closer. Blocked the others' view with her body.
"Don't," she murmured. "Not yet."
Lin Yue's gaze sharpened. "What's happening?"
"Nothing," Lu Yan said.
They both knew that was a lie.
The tremor passed. Barely.
He Zhen signaled again. "Formation here. This is the boundary."
The group spread into a loose semicircle. Talismans flared. A faint barrier shimmered, then faded.
The trial zone accepted them.
And immediately, the air shifted.
Heavier. Charged. Like the moment before a storm that never quite breaks.
They moved deeper.
That was when the watching started.
Not beasts. Not yet.
Eyes.
From the trees. From the rocks. From the spaces between shadows.
"Spirit fox territory," someone whispered.
Zhao Qingyue's jaw tightened. "They're early."
"Or curious," Lin Yue said.
Lu Yan felt it then—a brush against his awareness. Light. Testing.
Not hostile.
Interested.
The Manual stirred.
Non-human attention detected. Desire resonance partial. Do not reciprocate prematurely.
He almost laughed.
They reached a clearing just as dusk bled into the canopy. He Zhen called for camp.
Too open. Too exposed.
But arguing would draw attention. So they set wards. Low flames. Quiet voices.
Lu Yan sat on a fallen log, back straight, senses extended just enough to taste the air.
Zhao Qingyue approached with a wrapped ration. She didn't offer it. She sat beside him instead.
"Eat," she said.
"I will."
She waited anyway.
Lin Yue watched from across the fire. Her gaze didn't flicker when Zhao Qingyue leaned closer, shoulder brushing Lu Yan's arm.
"This place amplifies things," Zhao Qingyue said softly. "Intent. Emotion."
"I know."
"Then be careful what you let surface."
He turned his head. Their faces were close now. Firelight caught in her eyes, gold and sharp.
"What if it's already there?" he asked.
Her breath hitched. Just once.
Lin Yue stood abruptly. "I'll reinforce the rear ward."
She didn't look at them as she left.
The night deepened.
The watchers crept closer.
A junior disciple screamed.
Short. Cut off.
The clearing exploded into motion. Weapons drawn. Talismans burning.
Lu Yan was on his feet instantly.
Shapes darted at the edge of vision—sleek, pale forms with too-many tails, eyes glowing with curiosity and hunger.
Not for flesh.
For tension.
One lunged.
Lu Yan moved without thinking. His hand closed around its wrist—warm, solid, surprisingly human.
The fox spirit froze.
Their eyes met.
Something snapped into place.
The Manual surged.
Desire resonance spike. External entity alignment detected. Danger: triangulation overload.
Zhao Qingyue struck from the side, blade flashing. The fox vanished in a shimmer of light.
Lu Yan staggered.
Too much.
Lin Yue was there instantly, hand gripping his sleeve. "Stay with me."
Her touch grounded him. Sharp. Clean.
The pressure eased.
He breathed.
Foundation Establishment — Late Stage. Fracture imminent.
The attack broke as suddenly as it started. The fox spirits withdrew, laughter echoing faintly through the trees.
No casualties. Just shaken nerves.
He Zhen cursed softly. "We pull back at first light."
No one argued.
The camp settled into uneasy silence.
Lu Yan sat between Zhao Qingyue and Lin Yue by necessity this time—space limited, fire small.
Neither spoke.
Their proximity was a coil tightening with every breath.
Zhao Qingyue's knee brushed his. She didn't move it away.
Lin Yue's fingers rested against his wrist. Steady. Possessive.
He closed his eyes.
Not to sleep.
To endure.
The realization came quietly, like a blade sliding between ribs:
This trial wasn't testing who would survive.
It was testing who would claim him when the pressure finally broke.
And somewhere in the dark, unseen eyes counted the seconds until it did.