Yue hadn't spoken to Kai Jin since that night.
Not really.
There had been polite nods. A soft thank you she whispered when no one could hear. But real words? No. Words had weight, and Yue wasn't ready to drop any into the silence between them—yet.
But she watched.
From balconies above, through the lattice of meditation chambers, in the reflection of water jars near the sparring fields—she watched.
And she wasn't the only one.
The rumors were spreading like blood through clean cloth.
"They say he's a cursed disciple."
"A beast in human skin."
"He killed a man in his last fight. Crushed his arm beyond healing."
Yue heard them all. The mutters, the whispers, the glances. But she also saw him.
Kai Jin never retaliated when spoken about. Never corrected anyone. He walked through the sect like a ghost wrapped in flesh, but Yue knew ghosts didn't bleed. He did. Often.
That made him something more dangerous.
Alive.
She sat in the meditation pavilion nestled beside the starberry orchard, legs folded, posture immaculate—but her mind swirled with questions.
She tried to center her breath. Inhale. Focus. Let the world shrink.
But it was no use.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw his.
Blue and glacial. Not cold, but distant. Eyes that had seen something beyond this realm.
And yet, he had touched her hand gently when healing her.
So why couldn't she let it go?
That evening, she was summoned to the Hall of Reflection.
It was rare.
Even prodigious disciples were rarely called there unless they had experienced something... significant.
As she stepped into the silver-lit space, the incense stung her eyes. Golden lotuses floated in basins of clear spirit water, and the high priestess—mistress of internal energies—stood waiting.
"Yue of the Silver Path," she said. "Your cultivation has... shifted."
Yue blinked. "Shifted how?"
The priestess moved closer, placing two fingers over Yue's heart.
"You've begun to resonate."
Yue frowned. "With what?"
But the woman only smiled. "With someone."
She didn't sleep that night.
Instead, she climbed to the rooftop of the disciples' quarters and stared at the stars. Her fingers curled into her lap, eyes reflecting the constellation of the Broken Sky—a formation known for disaster and divine upheaval.
And that's when she felt it.
Not a pressure. Not a vision.
But a presence.
From the shadows of her mind, a voice—a gentle one—spoke.
Not her own.
Not Kai Jin's.
Something older. Feminine. Heavy with memory.
"You will choose him, in the end. Even if it kills you."
Yue gasped and spun around. No one.
The rooftop was empty.
But her heart had already accepted what her mind refused to process.