Snow crunched under Lan Xiyue's boots as he stepped through the last archway into the Scarlet Sun courtyard.
At its center stood a man in black and crimson, tall and composed, his hair bound loosely so that a few strands fell to catch the moonlight. His eyes — sharp, amber, and faintly amused — held Xiyue as if measuring the weight of a blade.
Neither bowed.
Feng Lian: "Lan Xiyue. White Jade Sect's prized sword."
Xiyue: "Feng Lian. The Scarlet Sun's… troublemaker."
The faint smirk on Feng Lian's lips widened.
Feng Lian: "And yet you've come alone, through my mountains, in winter. That's either courage… or desperation."
Xiyue's hand rested casually on the hilt at his side.
Xiyue: "I've come for answers. About the resonance."
A pause. Then Feng Lian stepped forward, the air between them sharpening.
Feng Lian: "You mean Ruo Han."
The name in his voice wasn't casual. It carried a warmth that made Xiyue's chest tighten — not in jealousy, but in realization. This wasn't the first time they'd touched the same thread.
Xiyue: "You know it's dangerous for him."
Feng Lian: "Dangerous for us, perhaps. But for him? It's the only thing keeping his soul from freezing to dust."
Snowflakes swirled between them, melting as they touched the heat of their qi.
Feng Lian tilted his head slightly.
Feng Lian: "Tell me, Lan Xiyue — if it comes to choosing between his freedom and your sect's laws… whose side will you stand on?"
The question hung in the air, heavier than the cold.