Today was the day of the final of the secondary tournament. By sundown there would be a winner, and the winner would walk into the principal bracket through the eighth seat that had been waiting for them since the draw.

Lin Kai was already on the platform. His opponent stood across from him with the weight of a young man who had clawed through round after round to be standing where he was standing now.

Down in the contestants’ box, the rest of the secondary bracket watched with the resigned attention of people who had already lost and were now studying how the win was going to look.

Lin Xuan climbed the western stair toward the principal sector. Wei Tianming followed two steps behind, the new robe of Skyedge cut neat across his shoulders, the Skyedge inner disciple pin freshly fastened at the chest where there had been nothing the day before.

The patriarch had accepted Wei Tianming the moment Lin Xuan had presented him last night. It had taken less than a minute. Lin Zhen had asked the boy two questions, watched the way he held the sword, and nodded once. The sect needed disciples. The patriarch had been told by his son that the search would begin this trip. The search had begun. The first result had walked through the door before the trip was over. Lin Zhen had smiled the small private smile he gave to things that confirmed his hope had not been misplaced.

Lin Xuan, climbing the stair, allowed himself one private thought.

’Closer to the two hundred and fifty thousand Origin Points, Mira.’

[ ... ]

She did not comment.

He took it as her way of permitting him the satisfaction without giving him the dignity of a reply.

He scanned the principal sector. The cushion to his left was empty, the cushion two seats further to the right was empty as well. He turned his head over his shoulder.

"Sit there. If you have questions about the combat, you ask me afterward, not during. I have a few things to attend to this morning."

"Understood, Young Master."

Wei Tianming peeled off without further conversation and took the cushion he had been pointed to. He sat very straight, hands folded in his lap, with the deliberate stillness of a young man who had decided that today was a day to absorb and not to speak.

Lin Xuan walked the row in the other direction.

Su Qingyue was in the principal cushion of Frostmoon Ridge. She turned her head as he approached, the small curve forming at the corner of her mouth that he had begun to recognize as her version of a greeting.

"I had not expected the Young Master of Skyedge to come over this morning."

"And I had not expected the Principal of Frostmoon Ridge to be at the secondary final at all. Tell me, is one of the two boys down there a personal interest? A romantic curiosity, perhaps?"

She tilted her head a fraction, eyebrows lifting just enough to let him know what she thought of the question.

"Neither of those things. Neither of them is my type. I am studying my potential opponents. I might run into them in the final."

"Ah. Although, you know, to reach the final, you would first have to get through me. Are you so certain of yourself that you assume you will beat me on the way there."

She gave him a smile in return for an answer. She did not say anything.

"I see," he said.

He sat down beside her.

The combat had started some time ago. Lin Kai was already up by a comfortable margin, the kind of margin that meant the result had stopped being in doubt and had become a question of how many more exchanges the opponent would last before yielding.

The truth was that Lin Kai had the strength to be in the principal bracket. He had only ended up in the secondary because he had lost the duel that decided which Lin son would represent Skyedge as the principal. The secondary had been the consolation prize. He was now winning his consolation prize comfortably, which was about the kindest thing the day was going to give him.

Su Qingyue glanced past Lin Xuan toward the cushion two seats to his right.

"I noticed you came up with someone interesting this morning. One of my elders is, I believe the phrase is, pulling out his own hair, after seeing him wear the colors of your sect."

"Ah, that. Let us say I have a good eye for hidden gems."

She turned her head a degree more toward him.

"Hm. And what do those eyes see when they look at me right now? Do they think I have talent?"

He held her with his attention for a beat, allowing the smile to appear in his face.

"Hm. I am not sure what to tell you. I would have to watch you in combat to be entirely certain."

"Is that so. A pity."

"A great one."

Her smile did not retreat this time. It deepened by exactly one increment.

They kept talking through the rest of the combat in the same slow back and forth. The platform below had started to feel like a backdrop. Every now and then one of them would comment on a footwork choice or a wrist angle, and the other would agree or disagree and the conversation would drift somewhere else again.

At some point during the seventh exchange, Lin Xuan let his attention drift across to the eastern tribune.

Madam Mei was in her seat beside the patriarch. She was watching her son fight, of course, but her attention was not staying on the platform the way a mother’s attention was supposed to. It kept finding its way back across the Arena to the western sector, and to the cushion where Lin Xuan was sitting. He caught her looking three times in twenty exchanges.

[ She is watching you, Xuan. ]

’I know, Mira. There is nothing wrong with sitting and talking with a young lady from another sect, is there?’

[ Nothing at all wrong with it. Just be careful. I do not yet trust her at one hundred percent. ]

’No worries on that front. The guard has not been down at any point.’

The combat dragged on a few more exchanges before Lin Kai finally stopped extending his opponent the courtesy of an even fight and committed the realm. Three cuts in succession. Stage Seven Qi, unleashed without restraint. The opponent went down on the second and stayed down on the third.

The Master of Ceremonies declared Lin Kai the winner and the holder of the eighth seat in the principal bracket. The applause that followed was generous but not warm. The crowd had seen better fights this week and they remembered them.

Lin Xuan got to his feet.

"It is time for me to go back. Tomorrow opens the principal bracket, and the first match of the principal is mine."

Su Qingyue rose with him as far as the corner of her cushion, hands folded at her waist.

"I hope you win, Lin Xuan. I would like for us to meet in the next phase."

"I hope I am able to live up to that promise we now have, then."

He inclined his head a fraction. She inclined hers a matching fraction back.

He walked the row toward Wei Tianming, and the boy fell in beside him as he descended the stair without needing to be called.

The walk back through the streets of Yuncheng was quiet. The crowd was thick with the energy of people who had just watched a final and were already discussing the next day’s opening of the principal. Wei Tianming stayed at his shoulder, asking nothing.

Lin Xuan was halfway through the second avenue when the realization arrived.

’Damn it!!’

[ What is wrong, Xuan? Has something happened? ]

’I forgot to ask her what her type was.’

[ ... And here I was thinking it was something serious. ]

’It is. Very.’

The Skyedge residence was warm with light and noise when they reached it.

The patriarch had organized something that was being called a small celebration in honor of Lin Kai’s victory. It was modest. The sect’s funds did not allow for the kind of banquet a richer family would have thrown together for the moment, and the patriarch had not pretended otherwise.

The dishes had been cooked in the residence kitchen by the regular staff. The wine was the standard travel wine of the sect, decanted into the simple cups they had brought from Skyedge. A single carved figure of a dragon, carried over from the Skyedge ancestor hall for ceremonial reasons, sat at the head of the long table. The room was lit by lanterns rather than by formal Qi-lamps. Humble and very honest. Skyedge as it was.

Lin Zhen rose with a cup in hand. He had been drinking for at least an hour and the warmth of the wine had reached the edges of his voice.

"I am proud of both my sons. Both of them are in the principal bracket of this tournament. Congratulations, Lin Kai. And tomorrow we expect a great deal from you, Lin Xuan." 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

"You may rest easy, Father."

Lin Zhen raised his cup, drank, and lowered himself back into his seat with the slight unsteadiness of a patriarch enjoying a moment that he had not had many of in recent years.

A woman approached Lin Xuan with a tray. She was one of the staff of the Yuncheng residence, Skyedge-uniformed, the kind of face he had seen four or five times in the last week without ever quite registering. She held out a cup with both hands.

"Young Master. Please."

He took the cup, drank, set it back on the tray, and inclined his head in thanks.

The small celebration moved on around him.

After his father’s speech, he excused himself from the room and walked back toward the wing where his quarters were. Wei Tianming followed.

—————————————————————————

The Arena was packed the next morning when the principal bracket opened.

Fifteen thousand voices in the rings settled into the low charged murmur of a crowd that had been waiting three days for the real fights to begin. The banners above the upper ring lifted in the morning breeze. The eight cushions of the Principal sector were full for the first time. Madam Mei was in the patriarchal tribune beside Lin Zhen, hands folded in her lap, expression composed.

The Master of Ceremonies climbed onto the polished stone of the fighting floor.

"First combat of the principal bracket. Young Master Lin Xuan of Skyedge Sword Sect, against Young Master Lei Yan of Thunder Lotus Sect."

Lin Xuan stepped down from his cushion, walked the row, descended the western stair, and crossed the bridge over the moat to climb up onto the fighting floor.

Lei Yan was already there. Stage Seven, the lightning-etched straight blade of Thunder Lotus at his hip, faint blue-white sparks crackling once around the hilt before settling. Four generations of duels in the archives between their two lineages. The crowd knew. The crowd had been waiting for this match more than for any other in the first round.

The two of them bowed at the formal angle.

The Master of Ceremonies stepped back.

"Begin."

Lin Xuan reached for his Qi.

But it was not there.

’WHAT THE FUCK!’

The dantian opened the way it always opened, the channels parted the way they always parted, but the flow that should have arrived through them did not arrive. A second pulse, harder, returned the same emptiness. A third pulse sent something else entirely back through his body, a sharp pinch that ran from the base of his sternum out along every meridian he had spent the night before testing.

His hand on the hilt of Plain Steel went numb at the tips.

Lei Yan stepped forward and opened his stance.

[ Xuan— ]

Mira’s voice cut through with an edge he had not heard from her before.

[ Something is wrong. The Qi is not flowing. There is something in your meridians that should not be there. ]

His feet moved on instinct, footwork he had drilled for months carrying him a half step back without thinking. The crowd registered the movement as opening posture. They did not see what was happening underneath.

In the patriarchal tribune, Madam Mei lifted her cup with both hands, took a slow sip, and lowered it again.

The line of her mouth was content.