Night fell heavily.
The Clear Stream Sect quieted as if it were pretending to sleep. Lanterns dimmed. Footsteps faded. Voices lowered to whispers that quickly faded away. Zhou Wei sat on the edge of his bed, boots still on, hands resting loosely on his knees.
He hadn't lit the lamp.
The dark felt safer.
Mei Lin's emotions pressed against him like a bruise being poked. Fear again, sharp but not frantic. Beneath it, something tighter. Urgency. A sense of time slipping away.
Zhou Wei breathed slowly. He let the warmth inside him coil, contained but alert. It didn't like waiting. Neither did he.
A bell rang in the distance. One. Two. The signal that late night duties were over.
Then footsteps.
Soft. Careful. Someone trying to be silent.
Zhou Wei stood before the knock came.
Three taps. Light. Controlled.
He opened the door.
Mei Lin stood there, shoulders drawn in, hair still damp from washing. She had changed robes again. Plain. Clean. Her hands were clasped at her waist as if holding herself still.
"I can't go back," she said at once.
Zhou Wei stepped aside. He didn't reach for her. "Come in."
She crossed the threshold, then paused just inside, as if afraid the floor might collapse. Zhou Wei closed the door but didn't lock it. The corridor outside remained visible through a thin crack.
"If you want to leave," he said quietly, "you still can."
She shook her head. "If I leave now, it will be because I am running. Not choosing."
The warmth inside Zhou Wei stirred. He pushed it down.
"What happened?" he asked.
Mei Lin swallowed. "He sent someone to the kitchens. Not a message—a warning. He said Elder Zhang was disappointed in my distance. That disappointment would be corrected."
Her voice wavered only once.
"He said tonight," she finished.
Anger rose in Zhou Wei, cold and sharp. He let it settle without feeding it.
"You came here because you think this will protect you," he said.
She looked at him, eyes bright and tired. "Will it not?"
"It might," he answered honestly. "Or it might make him act faster."
She closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, something had shifted.
"I know," she said. "That is why I am still here."
Silence filled the room. Not empty. Tight.
The small space smelled faintly of rain and old wood. Zhou Wei became aware of how close she was and how shallow her breathing sounded in the quiet. He took a step back, deliberately creating distance.
Mei Lin noticed.
"You keep moving away," she said softly.
"Because if I move closer," Zhou Wei replied, "it stops being your choice."
Her fingers curled tighter. "You think I don't know what I am doing."
"I think you are under pressure," he said. "That matters."
She laughed, short and humorless. "Everything in this sect is pressure."
She took a step forward.
Zhou Wei didn't move.
"If I walk away," she continued, "I will be dragged back eventually. Or broken quietly. If I stay here and do nothing, the same thing happens."
She stopped a few paces away from him. Close enough that he could feel the heat radiating from her skin.
"But if I step forward," she said, "it is because I decided to. Not him."
The warmth inside Zhou Wei surged hard. He forced it down, jaw tightening.
"Listen to me," he said, voice low. "If you choose this out of fear, it will destroy you. And it will give me nothing."
She searched his face. "Then what do you want from me?"
He didn't answer right away. The truth weighed heavily on his tongue.
"I want you to choose when you are not cornered," he said at last. "I want you to know you could walk out that door and I wouldn't stop you."
Her breath shook. "You are cruel."
"Maybe," he said. "But not in the way he is."
Outside, footsteps echoed faintly. A guard passed. Mei Lin flinched, then steadied herself.
"I don't want him touching me," she said. "I don't want his hands on me. Every time I think about it, I feel sick."
Zhou Wei nodded once. "That is not desire."
"No," she agreed. "But what I feel now is."
The words hovered between them, dangerous and fragile.
Zhou Wei felt the warmth stir inside him, thick and heavy, waiting for permission. He did not give it.
"You can stay here tonight," he said. "You can sleep on the floor. I will sit by the door. Nothing will happen."
Mei Lin stared at him. "And tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow you decide again," he said.
She let out a long breath she seemed to have been holding all evening.
"That is unfair," she said quietly.
"Yes."
She looked at the door. Then at him.
Slowly, deliberately, she sat down on the floor, back against the wall. She pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them.
"Then I will stay," she said. "Not because you asked. Because I want time."
Zhou Wei nodded and sat near the door, back against the wood, facing outward.
The night stretched on.
Rain began again, light and steady. Mei Lin's breathing eventually evened out, exhaustion winning over fear. Zhou Wei remained awake, senses alert, sensing Elder Zhang's irritation simmering somewhere in the sect, unfocused but present.
Nothing happened.
No knock. No summons. No guards.
Just waiting.
As the hours passed, Zhou Wei felt something settle inside him. Not satisfaction. Not triumph.
Commitment.
This was the line. For the first time, Mei Lin had not been pushed across it.
She had chosen to stop before it.
That mattered.