Chapter 9: The Unseen Flame
The next morning brought a hush to the mountain. Mist rolled across the stone paths as if the world itself didn't want to speak too loudly.
Fu Gui stood in the training courtyard, his robe tied neatly, a wooden staff in his hand. He waited. Patient. Still. But when Mei Lin stepped into the courtyard, he turned—and something shifted in his eyes.
She wore simple clothes, but the morning sun caught in her hair like fire. She looked unsure.
"I've never trained like this," she said, arms crossed. "I'm not a fighter."
"You don't need to be," Fu Gui replied, handing her the second staff. "You just need to remember who you are."
She hesitated. "What if I don't want to be who I was?"
A beat of silence.
"Then become who you choose to be now," he said quietly. "But power follows purpose. Let's find both."
Their staffs clashed gently, back and forth. He didn't go easy on her, but he didn't overwhelm her either. He moved like water, and she, though untrained, responded like wind—uncertain but natural.
After a while, she laughed. "You're holding back."
Fu Gui raised an eyebrow. "Should I stop?"
She struck with renewed energy, catching him off guard for a second.
"Not bad," he said, stepping back. "Your instincts… they're not new."
"Neither is this feeling," she whispered, lowering the staff.
Their eyes met. Something passed between them—like an ember drifting from one soul to another. Quiet. Warm. Dangerous.
Just then, the sky darkened for a moment.
A shadow passed over the courtyard. Mei Lin flinched. Fu Gui turned his gaze toward the horizon.
"They're getting closer," he murmured.
She stepped toward him, voice barely a breath. "Then stay close."
His hand brushed against hers—not a promise, not yet—but not denial either.