The challenge arrived with no fanfare.
No messenger. No divine bell. No scroll wrapped in silk.
Just a single line, etched in frost across the entrance of Peach Blossom Sect's main gate:
"By Rite of Divine Balance, I, Xue Ran, call Lian Qiao to a Trial of Truth."
Under it: the mark of the Frozen Court, glowing with cold authority.
Lian Qiao stood before it, heart thudding.
Master Bai exhaled a curse.
"She didn't waste any time."
"She's calling me out," Qiao said, trying to steady her voice. "Officially."
"It's more than that," Bai replied, serious now. "The Rite of Divine Balance is ancient. It predates the current Celestial Council. It's a sanctioned trial of challenge — but it also forces truths."
"Truths?"
"If you're lying to yourself… if you're hiding something… the Rite will tear it out of you."
Qiao looked down at her palm.
The flame mark pulsed.
What am I hiding from myself?
She already remembered the past.
Already chose the binding thread.
Then why… did her chest ache like something was still locked away?
⚔️ The Ice Arena — Three Hours Later
Set high in the Wind-Swept Range, the Ice Arena was built between two peaks, its floor carved from frozen skyglass, its outer ring protected by wind wards and immortal shields.
The Celestial Council would not interfere.
Only observe.
Mo Yujin stood near the edge of the arena, arms crossed, face unreadable.
When Qiao arrived — dressed in her dark-ember training robes, Flamebinder strapped across her back — his gaze followed her silently.
She didn't meet his eyes.
She couldn't.
Because for the first time since her return… she felt unsure.
What am I forgetting?
Xue Ran entered in a trail of snow.
Clad in silver and glacier blue, her twin daggers — Cryshade and Stillfang — gleamed at her hips.
She offered no bow. No greeting.
Just: "Step into the ring, Lian Qiao. Let us see which flame dies first."
The Duel Begins
The wind sealed the arena with a shimmer of divine light.
Xue Ran struck first — swift, graceful, deadly.
Her blades curved like ice-dipped swans, dancing in arcs too fast for mortal eyes. Frost bloomed in her wake. The air burned with cold.
Qiao blocked, barely, flames licking across her arms as Flamebinder sang in her hand. She staggered once, found her footing, then pushed.
Ember met snow. Sparks hissed against frost.
But Xue Ran moved like someone who had trained her whole life for this moment — and Qiao?
Qiao fought with instinct. With memory. Not yet with mastery.
Xue Ran's voice sliced between attacks. "He doesn't love you."
Qiao growled, parrying. "I didn't choose him."
"Then why does he burn when you fall?"
They clashed — light and sound exploding between them.
Xue Ran circled. "He was mine. He was cold. Controlled. Perfect. Until you made him remember how to break."
Qiao spun and knocked her back, breathing hard. "Then maybe he was never yours to begin with."
Suddenly — the arena pulsed.
The Rite triggered.
A divine light slammed down between them, freezing their weapons mid-air.
TRUTH PHASE INITIATED
The air thickened.
Each girl floated inches above the ground, paralyzed — not by force, but by memory.
Their minds unlocked. The rite demanded honesty.
Xue Ran's lips parted, trembling.
"I waited. For centuries. For his eyes to shift toward me. For the frost to melt.I was everything he was told to want. And he… never looked."
And Qiao?
Her truth broke like thunder.
"I remember dying in his arms.I remember loving him.I remember losing myself to bring him peace.But what I fear now—what I haven't said—is this:I don't know if I'm strong enough to do it again."
Tears fell.
Not many. But real.
The Rite faded.
They dropped back to the ground.
Both panting. Both shaken.
But only one was smiling.
Xue Ran.
Because Qiao's hands were trembling — not from fear…
But from revelation.
🌌 Outside the arena
Mo Yujin turned away.
Not in rejection.
But in remorse.
Because he knew the truth in her words.
And he remembered, too:
The moment she shattered herselfto shield him.