༺༻
t h r e e
☽✧☾
Lu Hua kept the bag held out. The silence stretched. Outside, the distant chime of an academy bell echoed through the mountain air. Inside, the Master of the Frost Peak and the girl from another world sat facing each other, separated by a low table and an open bag of vividly colored, gelatinous candy. The absurdity hung thick in the air, a tangible counterpoint to the majestic view beyond the balcony. Lu Hua's offering, a tiny piece of her lost world, lay suspended between them, waiting to be accepted or rejected in the quiet.
Li Chen stared at the bag of unnaturally bright, worm-shaped objects. After a long moment of profound silence, his pale fingers moved with deliberate slowness. He plucked a single, vibrant red gummy worm from the bag Lu Hua held out. He held it up, examining it under the morning light as if it were a rare insect specimen. His expression remained utterly unreadable.
Lu Hua, satisfied he hadn't rejected it outright, pulled the bag back and popped a green one into her own mouth. "It's good," she mumbled around the chewy candy, the sour tang sharp on her tongue.
Her eyes drifted to the scrolls scattered on the low table. Curiosity overcoming caution, she reached out and carefully unrolled one near her. The characters were elegant but completely alien. She squinted. "What's this? Poetry? Instructions on floaty-sword maintenance?" She traced a finger over a stylized drawing that looked vaguely like a deer with glowing antlers. "Ooh, pretty deer."
Li Chen watched her, not commenting on her handling of the scroll. His gaze lingered not on the scroll, but on the state of her hair. It was mostly dry now, but a tangled, damp mess, falling haphazardly over her shoulders and into her face as she leaned over the scroll, completely absorbed in deciphering the picture of the deer.
Without preamble, his quiet voice cut through her focus. "Your hair."
Lu Hua jumped slightly, looking up. "Huh?"
"It is... disordered," he stated, with typical bluntness. A pause. "I can brush it. If you permit."
Lu Hua blinked, surprised. She touched her messy hair self-consciously. "Oh. Uh, yeah. Sure. Go for it." She shrugged, turning slightly on the cushion to give him better access, though she kept her eyes on the scroll, trying to figure out what the symbols next to the glowing deer might mean. "Thanks."
Li Chen shifted position smoothly, kneeling behind her. His movements were efficient, not gentle, but not rough either. His cool fingers carefully gathered her thick, dark hair, separating the strands that had dried tangled. He worked in silence, his focus absolute. Lu Hua felt the occasional tug, but mostly just the cool, precise touch of his hands as he methodically smoothed and gathered the mass of hair.
She kept her attention mostly on the scroll, pointing at another illustration – a bird wreathed in flames. "Whoa. Fire chicken? That's metal." She flipped the scroll slightly. "And this one? Big lizardy thing. Looks grumpy." She was completely oblivious to the intense concentration of the powerful cultivator meticulously braiding her hair high on the back of her head.
Li Chen didn't respond to her commentary on the spirit beasts. He worked steadily, his expression focused but calm. After a few minutes, he reached towards his own hair. With a deft movement, he pulled free a simple, elegant hairpin made of polished, pale wood – maybe jade or bone – shaped like a single, unfurling leaf. He slid it smoothly into the base of the braid he'd created, securing it firmly.
"Done," he announced, his hands withdrawing.
Lu Hua reached back, her fingers encountering the neat, secure braid and the cool smoothness of the pin. She gave her head an experimental shake. It stayed perfectly in place. "Oh! Nice!" she grinned, genuinely pleased. "Feels way better. Thanks, Li Chen."
Li Chen simply gave a small, almost imperceptible nod of acknowledgement. He rose fluidly to his feet, looking down at her. "The hour grows late," he stated. His gaze flickered to the window, where the light was indeed softening towards late afternoon. "We should take evening meal now."
He gestured towards the sliding door that presumably led deeper into the residence. It was a simple, practical statement – dinner time. No fanfare, no elaborate pronouncements. Just the next necessary step in the strange new reality of Ling Jian Academy.
Lu Hua scrambled up, the unfamiliar robes swirling around her ankles. The braid felt secure, the pin a small, solid reminder of this bizarre act of normalcy in an impossible situation. "Okay," she said, a little breathless. "Food sounds good." She offered him a tentative, slightly lopsided smile.
★
The next morning, Lu Hua paced the serene stone paths of Li Chen's mountain-top garden. Sunlight warmed the air, birdsong echoed from the surrounding peaks, and the view was breathtaking. But Lu Hua only had eyes for the lifeless rectangle in her hand – her phone.
"Come on, you stupid brick!" she muttered, jabbing the power button with desperate intensity. "Just a little spark! A flicker! Anything!" She shook it, held it up to the sun like an offering, then sighed dramatically, shoulders slumping. "Useless. Absolutely useless. What am I supposed to do now? Stare at rocks?" She kicked a small pebble, watching it skitter across the path.
Suddenly, a familiar blur of iridescent blue and green zoomed past her ear. A melodic chirrup sounded right beside her head.
Lu Hua shrieked. Not a little gasp. A full-throated, ear-splitting, horror-movie scream ripped from her lungs. She jumped a foot in the air, fumbling the phone.
Inside the quiet study, Li Chen, calmly reviewing a disciple's progress report, didn't flinch. He simply vanished. One moment seated, the next moment standing directly beside Lu Hua on the garden path, materializing without a sound.
Lu Hua didn't hesitate. The second she saw white robes, she lunged. Both hands clamped onto his arm like a vise, fingers digging into the fabric. She yanked herself behind him, using him as a human shield, peering fearfully over his shoulder.
"It's back! The flying fire-cat-monkey-thing!" she yelled, pointing a trembling finger at the creature, which now hovered a few feet away, tilting its head curiously at the commotion.
Li Chen didn't try to pull away. He stood perfectly still, a pillar of calm amidst her storm. "Be still," he said, his voice low and steady. "It is a Cloud Lynx. It means no harm. It is merely... curious." He paused, then added with a hint of dryness, "And you are crushing my arm."
Lu Hua loosened her grip slightly but didn't let go. She peered more closely at the creature hovering in the air. Now that she wasn't screaming or falling off a mountain, she could see it better. It did have wings, shimmering like dragonfly wings but larger. Its body was covered in soft, plush fur patterned in stripes of orange and black, like a tiny, fluffy tiger. Its large, golden eyes watched her with open interest. A tiny puff of harmless-looking, pale blue smoke drifted from its nostrils.
"Huh," Lu Hua breathed, the panic slowly ebbing. "It kinda... looks like Mr. Snuggles." Mr. Snuggles had been her best friend's incredibly lazy, incredibly fat orange tabby. The resemblance, especially around the eyes and the slightly smug expression, was uncanny, wings and tiger stripes aside.
Tentatively, still half-hiding behind Li Chen's arm, Lu Hua slowly reached a hand out towards the hovering lynx. "Hey there... Floof?" she cooed softly. "You're not so scary, are you?"
The Cloud Lynx blinked. Then, it drifted closer, ignoring Li Chen completely. It nudged its furry, striped head against Lu Hua's outstretched fingers.
A soft, rumbling purr vibrated through the air. It sounded like a contented motorboat mixed with tiny chimes.
Lu Hua's eyes widened in delight. "Oh! You purr!" She gently scratched behind its ears, just like she would with Mr. Snuggles. The purring intensified. The lynx closed its eyes, leaning into her touch, a small, happy puff of blue smoke escaping its nose.
A huge, relieved grin spread across Lu Hua's face. She forgot about the dead phone, forgot her fear, and focused entirely on the magical flying cat currently melting under her scritches. "Who's a good little fire-breathing floof? You are! Yes, you are!" she cooed.
Li Chen watched silently, his arm still partially captive, a faint, almost imperceptible sigh escaping him. The girl was now befriending the spirit beasts. He carefully, but firmly, extracted his arm from her grip. "Try not to encourage it to breathe fire indoors," he stated flatly, then turned and walked calmly back towards his study, leaving Lu Hua giggling and petting the purring Cloud Lynx under the morning sun.
A few hours later, Lu Hua was sprawled dramatically across the pile of cushions and blankets Li Chen had eventually assembled in a corner of his study. It was a clear attempt to stop her from just flopping onto the floor like a disgruntled starfish whenever boredom struck.
Li Chen sat at his low table, a scroll held with his usual calm focus. Lu Hua crunched loudly on the last few crumbs of her sour gummy worms, the empty bag discarded beside her.
"Uuuugh," she groaned, stretching like a cat and knocking a cushion askew. "This is so boring. No TV. No music. No games. Not even a stupid lightbulb. It's like camping, but forever. And worse." She flopped onto her back, staring at the ceiling. "I miss fried chicken. Crispy, greasy, delicious fried chicken." Her stomach growled loudly, underlining the point. "Li Chennnn," she whined, turning her head towards him. "I'm staaarving."
Li Chen didn't look up from his scroll. He simply set it down with a quiet sigh. "Very well," he stated. He rose smoothly and walked towards the doorway that led to the kitchen area of his residence.
Lu Hua perked up slightly, a grin forming. "Ooh, Master Chef time?" But she didn't follow him. She just snuggled deeper into her cushion nest, watching dust motes dance in the shaft of sunlight coming through the window. "Hope it's better than that weird grain porridge breakfast..."
Meanwhile, in the simple kitchen, Li Chen was efficiently gathering ingredients – fresh vegetables from a small garden plot outside, rice, some dried herbs. He selected a sharp, well-balanced knife. He was about to begin preparing the vegetables when a polite cough sounded from the entrance to his residence's main receiving area.
A young male disciple, dressed in the academy's standard blue-grey robes, stood nervously just inside the open doorway. His eyes widened slightly as he took in the scene: the revered Master of Frost Peak, sleeves neatly rolled back, standing at a kitchen counter holding a knife.
"Master Li Chen!" the disciple stammered, bowing deeply. "I-I apologize for the intrusion!"
Li Chen turned, his expression as impassive as ever. "Speak."
The disciple straightened, holding out a beautifully lacquered, multi-tiered food box. "Disciple Bai Yuling sent this, master. Freshly prepared delicacies from the kitchens below. She… she wished to ensure you were well-nourished." The disciple couldn't quite meet Li Chen's silver eyes, his cheeks slightly pink. Everyone knew Bai Yuling, a nobleman's daughter from a prominent family, held a significant, if utterly hopeless, torch for the aloof Master.
Li Chen knew it too. Bai Yuling was talented, certainly, but her persistent gifts and lingering glances were… irrelevant. He was a Master; she was a disciple. His path was cultivation, not romance. Besides, he felt nothing beyond detached acknowledgement of her skill.
He looked from the elaborate box to the simple vegetables on his counter. Then his gaze flickered towards the study door, behind which Lu Hua was probably complaining about the lack of salt or something equally baffling. Preparing a meal would take time he could spend on other matters.
Without a word, Li Chen walked over, took the lacquered box from the surprised disciple, and set it on a nearby surface. "My thanks to Disciple Bai," he said, his tone flat, offering no further explanation or encouragement.
The disciple blinked, clearly expecting a refusal or at least a dismissal of the gesture. "O-of course, Master! Shall I convey any message?"
"No," Li Chen replied simply. He turned back towards the kitchen counter, effectively dismissing the young man.
The disciple bowed again, deeply confused but relieved he hadn't been scolded, and hurriedly retreated.
Li Chen looked at the fancy food box, then at the vegetables. He picked up his knife again. He would prepare the simple meal as planned. The noble girl's offering could wait. Or perhaps the perpetually hungry anomaly in his study would appreciate it more. He began slicing a root vegetable with precise, efficient strokes, the rhythmic *thock-thock-thock* the only sound in the quiet kitchen.