The festival's embers glimmered in the night, leaving the courtyard wrapped in silver moonlight and shadow. Disciples wandered off in small groups, but a tension lingered—a sense that not all debts had been paid.
Kai Jin stood alone beneath an ancient pine, watching lanterns drift against the star-flecked sky. He was almost at peace.
But trouble had its own orbit.
Jinhai stepped from the darkness, flanked by two disciples from the Heaven-Splitting Faction. Their expressions were tight, voices low. "You embarrassed me before my sect. I won't forget that."
Kai didn't turn to face them. "You should forget pride. It breaks easier than bone."
Jinhai's fists clenched. "You act like you're above us. But you're just a dog hiding behind a woman's shadow."
A few meters away, Yue emerged from the festival's last circle of lanterns. Her eyes locked onto Kai's—steady, unafraid.
Jinhai moved first, fast and furious. Kai dodged the first blow, caught the second, and let the third land—a test, a measurement. He rolled his shoulder, took a step back. The World Eye's voice flickered through his mind:
*"You could end this in one move. So why do you hold back?"*
*I want them to remember fear, not pain.*
The other two attacked together. Kai flowed between them, a ghost in the moonlight—never still, never quite in reach. He swept the legs from the first, ducked beneath a wild punch from the second, and let their momentum crash them together.
Jinhai snarled, summoning a flicker of energy, and lunged again. This time, Kai met him head-on, palm to chest. Jinhai stumbled, breath stolen, and fell to his knees.
"This isn't finished," Jinhai spat.
Kai finally faced him. "No. But you are."
Jinhai staggered to his feet and retreated with his followers into the darkness, their pride bruised more than their bodies.
Yue crossed the courtyard to Kai. She reached for his face, fingers gentle as she wiped away a bead of blood.
"I told you not to let them get to you."
"Some lessons need to be taught more than once."
She smiled, soft and secret. "You're hopeless."
He caught her hand, squeezed it—just for a moment, in the moon's quiet glow. "Only for you."
A promise passed between them, silent but unbreakable.
Lanterns floated high above, carrying their hopes into the dark.
And the World Eye, watching, whispered:
*"Maybe you're learning after all."*
---