It was late at night when Ye Mingzhi called Chu Xiyue out for a walk. The moonlight spilled silver across the quiet courtyard, bathing them in its cool glow.
"You survived your first assassin. Not bad," he said with a slow smile. "Seems like you've got potential."
He turned, eyes glinting. "But what if they used illusions alongside their blade? Would you still stand?"
He took a step forward, raising a hand. "Let's find out. Block this."
Though his strikes looked sharp, there was something teasing—almost affectionate—hidden beneath each move.
Xiyue met his palm with hers, the force too strong; she stumbled—straight into his arms.
"Careful, little sweetheart," he whispered, his breath warm by her ear."Your stance wavers when you're distracted."
"I'm not distracted," she murmured, her cheeks burning.
"No?" He leaned in slightly, gaze soft but intense."Then why is your heartbeat louder than your footsteps?"
She glared. "Master, you talk too much."
Without warning, she dropped into a low sweep, forcing him to leap back a step.
"Hah!" he laughed, clearly impressed. "Clever little ponytail. You should be mine."
Xiyue smirked, brushing back her hair."Not that little, Master."
Chu Xiyue let out a breath, her chest rising and falling as she steadied herself after the training. Her heart still pounded—not just from exertion, but from something more uncertain, something stirring quietly in her mind.
Ye Mingzhi stepped closer to her, his gaze soft but unreadable.
"Did you feel it?" he asked. "Your energy… it shifted just now."
Xiyue blinked, confused. "Shifted?"
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he reached out and gently placed two fingers against her wrist. A soft stream of energy flowed from him into her—subtle, careful, searching.
For a moment, something within her responded. A distant pulse—cold, ancient—rippled through her veins from deep inside her chest.
"…There it is," Ye Mingzhi murmured, almost to himself. "The demon blood."
Her eyes widened. "What? Is that… something bad? Just tell me the truth."
Ye Mingzhi gave her a small, bittersweet smile. "No. Not bad. Just… familiar."
Before she could press further, he turned and walked to the nearby stone bench, gesturing for her to sit with him.
"Tell me more about the assassin," he said. "Did he say anything before he attacked you?"
"He just showed me your face," she replied. "Said they were hunting you."
He sighed, his expression darkening. "They're getting bolder."
"Master… who are they?" she asked cautiously.
His gaze drifted upward toward the moon. "Old enemies. From before your time."
Then, softer, he added, "…from her time."
Xiyue tilted her head. "Her?"
He didn't answer. Instead, he reached out and gently tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. His touch lingered.
"You remind me of someone," he said quietly.
Her breath caught. "Was she important to you?"
He paused. Then smiled faintly, his voice low.
"She still is."
A moment of silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken memories and emotions.
Finally, Ye Mingzhi stood and offered her his hand.
"It's late," he said gently. "We'll talk more tomorrow. Come on, little sweetheart—rest now."