Gene's lips curled into a faint smile, though it carried no warmth. His pale face remained unreadable.
Seeing his distant expression, Lingyue's brows knit together. "You're still angry with me, aren't you?"
"Angry?" Gene tilted his head, weak eyes lifting to hers. "Why would I be angry with you?"
Her voice wavered with guilt. "Because I failed to reach you in time. You suffered alone while I was safe. Feng Tianyu tried to kill you, and instead of punishment, he mocked you openly. And… Third Aunt. She said things that cut deep."
Gene shook his head, the motion slow, each breath labored. "No, I hold no anger toward you. If you hadn't truly wanted to save me, you would never have risked sneaking out. And you would never have chased Feng Tianyu across the mountains on my behalf." His gaze drifted. "Tell me… how is he now?"
Lingyue's lips curved into a sneer, her voice venomous. "What does it matter? The sooner he's dead, the better."
Gene's smile twisted into bitterness. He knew all too well that hearts were not impartial. Feng Tianyu was the disciple of Ji Lianyu, a favored son of the Soul-Guard Alliance. Lingyue's outburst, her merciless pursuit of him, would not be forgotten. Gene could already imagine it: whispers circulating, glares sharpening. Among the alliance's disciples, those who admired Feng Tianyu would never forgive him.
"Did you hear what I said earlier?" Lingyue suddenly asked, seating herself at the edge of his bed, her eyes sparkling with determination.
"What did you say?" Gene asked, feigning ignorance though he knew.
Her eyes narrowed, displeased by his evasion. "Once you recover, my father will see justice done. Whatever you ask, he will grant."
Gene gave another thin smile but said nothing.
"Stop smiling like that." Lingyue scowled. "Do you even understand what I mean?"
"I understand." Gene drew a long, ragged breath, each word an effort. "You want me to ask the Alliance Master for your hand."
Her heart leapt with both hope and irritation. "Then why sigh like that? Do you… not wish it?"
"It isn't that I don't wish it," Gene admitted softly. "It is only… sudden. I am unprepared."
Lingyue's eyes darkened. She had lived long enough at his side to see through him. He was not unprepared. He had thought of everything. His hesitation was not confusion, but fear. Fear of the world's judgment.
"You're worried about gossip, aren't you? That they'll call you opportunistic, a man who clings to power and status?"
"This isn't gossip. It's truth." His answer was steady, almost cruel in its candor. "I am not worthy of you."
Her expression softened, her tone turning as gentle as falling snow. "Your heart is noble, your spirit untainted. What you lack is cultivation. Our alliance has countless spirit elixirs and profound techniques. With diligence, in time you will surpass your peers."
Gene said nothing. His silence pricked at her temper. She was, after all, the Alliance Master's cherished daughter—unaccustomed to being met with coldness, unaccustomed to waiting. With anyone else, she would have stormed away. But with him, injured and frail, she forced herself to endure. Her face, however, betrayed her displeasure, darkening like clouds before rain.
Seeing this, Gene hurried to explain, his voice urgent despite the pain. "Don't misunderstand. Even if you were not beautiful, even if you had no noble birth—your courage in seeking me, your tireless vigil, your sword drawn against Feng Tianyu—I would already owe you more than I could ever repay. But forgive me… hesitation is my nature. A man like me cannot help but feel small before someone like you."
Her lips trembled, anger melting into something lighter. She was, at the end of the day, a young woman with a tender heart. To hear herself praised—even awkwardly—softened her mood. A faint smile played across her lips.
"You speak nonsense," she teased, voice lowering. "Earlier, when you and Feng Tianyu quarreled, I heard every word. You said you dared not approach me. And yet—why did you hold me? Why did you kiss me?"
At once, blood rushed to Gene's pale cheeks. He stammered, "That… that was to provoke him! I thought I was about to die, so I lied to mock him! I never—never kissed you!" His words tumbled in panic, until he remembered. He had held her once, carrying her when their donkey was lost. He added hastily, "Even if I held you, it was only because there was no other choice. Someone had to bring you safely down the path."
Lingyue pressed her lips together, feigning outrage, though her eyes gleamed with mirth. "So bold, yet so cowardly. You dare do it, but not admit it?"
"I didn't! I truly didn't!" Gene protested, flustered, the exertion driving him into a fit of coughs that wracked his fragile body.
Lingyue's playfulness faded into worry. She hurried to bring him water, her hands trembling as she lifted his head. "Enough. Don't speak. I believe you. I know you wouldn't take advantage."
When his coughing subsided, she returned to the matter at hand. Her tone grew firm. "My father's word is law. He has promised, and before all others he will not retract it. When the time comes, you must not hesitate."
Gene lowered his gaze, his voice careful. "If I ask for marriage so soon, they'll say I repay life-saving kindness with greed. Even your father may think less of me. The disciples will never respect me."
Lingyue tilted her head, eyes narrowing. "Then what do you suggest?"
"I once thought to beg your father to take me as a disciple," Gene said slowly, weighing each word. "But after crossing Feng Tianyu, that path is closed. Even if I joined, discord would fester. Better that I ask for one thing—a skill, a teaching. With that, I can prove myself. When I have grown strong, when I have slain enemies and earned my place, then I will ask for your hand. It will not seem like opportunism."
As he spoke, he watched her face carefully. When she did not flare up, he pressed on. "Already the alliance whispers about us. Already they say our bond is unusual. In time, marriage is inevitable. But please, let me win honor first. Otherwise, no matter what I achieve, they will claim it is your shadow that raised me, not my own strength. That shame would cling to me forever—and to your father, who would be accused of favoritism."
His reasoning was sound, his tone earnest. Yet Lingyue's expression grew hard. Her brows arched, sharp as drawn blades. "So many excuses. Why do you truly refuse?"
The sudden shift chilled him, but he forced himself to remain calm. Lingyue had always been fiery, rash. That same fire was what drove her to hunt Feng Tianyu without hesitation. He owed her honesty. "I don't refuse. I only believe the time is not yet right. To seize something before one has earned it is to invite envy and destruction. A man with treasure but no strength cannot keep it."
But before he could finish, Lingyue cut him off, impatient. "If fear of jealousy holds you back, then leave me now. The alliance has two thousand disciples—most of them young men. Many already seek my hand. If I chose you, every one of them would hate you."
Her words fell like cold rain. Gene searched for an answer, but before he could speak, Lingyue rose.
"My father has promised to grant your request. I have promised him I will not share this chamber with you further. Three days from now, the monthly council of the Soul-Guard Alliance will convene. They will summon you. Decide then what you will ask."
Her voice was final.
Without waiting for his reply, she walked to the door. "Third Aunt will tend to you. My father has gifted you a healing pill. It will be delivered soon."
"Don't be angry," Gene said awkwardly, but his words fell into silence.
She did not answer. The door opened, light spilling in, then closed again as she vanished into the hall.