No one slept.
They pretended to. Eyes closed. Breaths measured. Bodies still.
But the clearing stayed awake.
The fire had burned down to a low, stubborn glow—embers breathing red, pulsing faintly like something alive. Shadows leaned inward. The forest listened.
Lu Yan sat with his back against the log, spine straight because if he relaxed even a fraction, he knew he'd tilt—toward one of them. Or both.
Zhao Qingyue sat to his left, close enough that her shoulder brushed his arm when she shifted her weight. She didn't apologize. Didn't move away.
Lin Yue sat to his right, a little farther, posture calm, composed. Her fingers rested on her knee. Still. Controlled. Like everything else about her.
Too controlled.
The air pressed down. Not spiritually. Emotionally. Thick with unspoken things.
Foundation Establishment — Late Stage. Compression ongoing.
The Manual didn't speak.
It watched.
Lu Yan could feel it—the way both women's attention kept orbiting him, never colliding, never leaving. A slow, tightening spiral.
Zhao Qingyue broke the silence first.
"You grabbed it."
Her voice was quiet. Even. But not casual.
Lu Yan didn't look at her. "It grabbed me."
"You didn't pull away."
"I was assessing."
Lin Yue let out a soft breath. Almost a laugh. "That's one word for it."
Zhao Qingyue turned slightly, eyes sharp. "You felt it too?"
Lin Yue met her gaze across Lu Yan's chest. "Of course I did."
The space between them narrowed. Not physically. Something worse.
Lu Yan exhaled slowly. "The fox spirit wasn't attacking," he said. "It was testing."
"Testing what?" Zhao Qingyue asked.
He paused.
The truth rose, unhelpful and sharp.
"Us."
Neither woman spoke.
The embers popped.
Somewhere deeper in the forest, something moved. Not close enough to be a threat. Close enough to be curious.
Lin Yue's fingers shifted. They brushed his wrist again—this time deliberately. Light. Grounding.
"You stabilized after," she said. Not a question.
"Yes."
Zhao Qingyue noticed. Of course she did.
Her knee pressed more firmly against his. Not enough to shove Lin Yue away. Enough to remind.
"I struck it," Zhao Qingyue said. "Before it could finish whatever it was doing."
Lu Yan turned his head then. Their eyes met.
"Thank you."
Her lips parted slightly. The tension there—pride, relief, something possessive she hadn't named yet.
"You didn't need to thank me," she said. "That was my role."
Lin Yue smiled faintly. "Funny. I thought that was his decision."
Zhao Qingyue's gaze snapped to her. "You think everything is a decision."
"I think everything is a choice."
Lu Yan closed his eyes for a moment.
The Manual stirred. A whisper at the edge of awareness.
Jealousy vectors intensifying. Emotional load approaching threshold.
He ignored it.
He shouldn't have.
A junior disciple on watch shifted near the perimeter. "Senior… there's movement again."
He Zhen was on his feet instantly. "Where?"
"West. Same as before. But farther."
Lu Yan opened his eyes.
He felt it too now. Not hostile. Not yet.
Interested.
Zhao Qingyue stood, hand on her sword. "We don't chase."
Lin Yue rose more slowly. "They're circling."
"Let them," Zhao Qingyue said. "We hold."
Lu Yan stood between them, naturally. Instinctively.
The fox spirits didn't show themselves. They didn't need to.
Pressure bled into the clearing. Subtle. Intimate. Like a gaze lingering too long on bare skin.
Lu Yan's breath slowed.
Heat coiled low in his abdomen—not arousal exactly. Something adjacent. Awareness. Readiness.
Foundation Establishment — Late Stage. Meridian response elevated.
Lin Yue noticed the change in his breathing. Zhao Qingyue noticed the tension in his shoulders.
Both reached for him at the same time.
Zhao Qingyue's hand closed around his forearm.
Lin Yue's fingers slid into his sleeve, gripping just above his wrist.
They froze.
Three heartbeats.
No one pulled away.
Lu Yan looked down at their hands. Then up.
The silence was heavy enough to bruise.
"I'm fine," he said softly.
Neither believed him.
Lin Yue released him first. Slowly. Deliberately. Like she was proving something—to herself more than anyone else.
Zhao Qingyue held on a second longer. Then let go.
"I'll take first watch," Zhao Qingyue said.
"I already volunteered," Lin Yue replied.
Their eyes met again.
Lu Yan stepped back. Just enough to break the line.
"I will," he said.
Both turned to him at once.
"No," Zhao Qingyue said immediately.
"You're not stable," Lin Yue added.
He smiled. Calm. Teasing. Sharp underneath.
"Then it's a good thing I'm not alone."
That did it.
Zhao Qingyue's jaw tightened. Lin Yue's expression cooled.
But neither argued further.
They took positions flanking him instead.
The night stretched.
Minutes bled into hours.
The fox spirits withdrew eventually, interest sated for now. The pressure eased—but didn't vanish.
When the sky finally began to pale, it wasn't relief that settled in Lu Yan's chest.
It was anticipation.
They broke camp in silence.
Zhao Qingyue avoided his eyes. Lin Yue didn't.
As they moved out, Lin Yue fell into step beside him.
"You're close," she said quietly.
"To what?" he asked.
She glanced ahead, then back at him. "Breaking. Or breaking through."
He didn't answer.
Ahead, Zhao Qingyue slowed—just enough to listen.
Lin Yue continued, voice low. "When it happens, you won't be able to hold all of it alone."
"I know."
Her gaze lingered on his face. "Then choose carefully who you let close."
She stepped away before he could respond.
Zhao Qingyue turned her head slightly as Lin Yue passed.
Their eyes met.
No words.
Just understanding.
Lu Yan felt the shift then. Not in qi. In alignment.
The realization struck deep and unwelcome:
This wasn't about who stood closer.
It was about who would still be there when he couldn't stand at all.
Behind them, unseen, a fox spirit watched from the branches—eyes bright, tail flicking once before it vanished.
The trial wasn't done.
Neither was the counting.