Dawn cracked the sky into pale blue shards.
Jin Mu rose first, his mind already charting what needed to be done.
Su Lin slept on, her breathing slow and steady for the first time since he'd known her.
It felt almost wrong to disturb that fragile peace—almost.
But there was too much to do.
He stepped outside the tent, tapping the thin circlet of cold iron at his wrist—his personal sigil relay—and murmured:
"Shen Yan. It's time."
The relay sparked with a faint flicker, and then Shen Yan's voice crackled to life, rough with sleep but edged in wariness.
"You're alive."
"Barely," Jin Mu replied dryly. "And you?"
"Annoyed you waited this long to contact me."
He exhaled.
"That's fair."
There was a pause—then a sigh on the other end of the link.
"What do you want, Jin Mu?"
He leaned against a frost-bitten pine and studied the horizon.
"To apologize," he said at last.
That earned a stunned silence.
"Say that again."
"I said I'm sorry," he repeated, more patiently than he felt. "I was…cold. To you. To everyone. You didn't deserve that."
"You were colder than a corpse," Shen Yan muttered, but his tone had softened.
"I know," Jin Mu admitted. "But things have changed."
Another pause.
"So…what do you want me to do about it?"
He straightened, voice turning crisp.
"I want you to meet me at the western ridge. I've found evidence the Concord has a primary slave storage hidden beneath the old jade works."
A low whistle carried across the link.
"That's…bolder than I expected, even from you."
"They're not going to stop," Jin Mu said quietly. "And the more they build their network, the harder it'll be to break."
"You want me to help you take it down."
"Yes."
"And the girl?"
Jin Mu turned his head, listening to Su Lin stir inside the tent.
"She's part of this now. She wants to fight."
Shen Yan's voice lowered.
"You trust her?"
"I trust what she's survived," Jin Mu said simply. "That's enough for me."
There was another long silence, then a rough exhale.
"All right," Shen Yan said at last. "I'll come. But first…I want to see her strength for myself."
Two hours later, Shen Yan arrived on a slate-gray ridge overlooking the sprawl of frozen pines.
He looked much the same as ever: tall, broad-shouldered, hair drawn into a warrior's knot, eyes the color of old steel.
He inclined his head at Jin Mu, then turned to Su Lin.
"So you're the one he risked his life for," Shen Yan said, studying her without condescension.
Su Lin met his gaze squarely.
"I am."
He smiled faintly.
"Good. I want to see what you've learned."
They squared off in the hollow beneath the ridge.
Jin Mu stood back, arms folded, letting the cold seep through his cloak as he watched.
Su Lin dropped into a ready stance, her breath fogging the air.
Shen Yan only raised one brow, rolling his shoulders as if loosening a long-held tension.
"Ready?" he asked.
She nodded once.
And then they moved.
Su Lin: "Hidden Flame—Scorching Spiral!"
Fire erupted from her palms, a ribbon of molten gold.
Shen Yan: "Iron Shear."
His hand sliced the air, and her flame split apart, forced into twin streams that hissed harmlessly past his flanks.
Su Lin pivoted, not hesitating, and launched forward with a sweeping kick.
He caught her ankle in one hand—but she twisted, using his grip as leverage to bring her opposite fist crashing toward his temple.
At the last possible instant, he ducked. Her knuckles grazed his cheekbone, drawing a thin line of blood.
Shen Yan: "Better than I expected."
She gritted her teeth.
Su Lin: "I'm not done."
He surged in, blindingly fast.
Shen Yan: "Sky-Cutting Palm!"
A wave of invisible force slammed into her midsection, driving her back. She skidded across the frost, breath ragged, but she didn't fall.
Instead, her eyes blazed.
Su Lin: "Flame Crown!"
Fire rippled from her shoulders, a corona of light that threw his shadow across the trees.
She lunged, flame trailing her limbs in blazing arcs.
He met her without flinching.
They collided again and again—fire and tempered will clashing in strikes too quick to follow.
Jin Mu watched, his heart lifting despite himself.
She had come so far, so quickly.
The frost hissed into steam under their feet.
For every blow she landed, he returned one, equal in force.
But she refused to yield.
Finally, Shen Yan caught her wrist in both hands and drove her back one last time.
Her heel struck a buried root, her balance slipping.
In that fraction of a heartbeat, he pressed his palm to her sternum.
Shen Yan: "Yield."
She hesitated, chest heaving, flame guttering.
Then she exhaled—and nodded.
He released her wrist carefully, his breathing not quite even.
"Almost had me," he said, voice low.
Her lips curved, exhausted but fierce.
"Next time."
He glanced over at Jin Mu.
"You were right," he said quietly. "She's ready."
Jin inclined his head, feeling a strange, unexpected pride.
"She had to be."
Shen Yan turned back to Su Lin.
"I won't pretend this will be easy," he said. "The Concord doesn't forgive failure. If we do this, we burn every bridge behind us."
She lifted her chin.
"Then let it burn."
A smile tugged at Shen Yan's mouth.
He looked at Jin Mu.
"When do we move?"
"Tomorrow," Jin Mu said. "At dawn."
He extended his hand, palm open.
Shen Yan clasped it without hesitation.
That night, they camped by the ridge, the fire throwing shifting shadows across their faces.
For the first time in too long, Jin Mu felt something like certainty settling in his chest.
He glanced from Shen Yan—stoic, unyielding—to Su Lin, who sat staring into the flames, her hair a ragged halo of ember light.
Perhaps this was what it meant to begin again.
To not fight alone.