The morning sun glinted across the worn training yard, but Lang Xinya barely noticed.
His arms trembled as he swung his sword for the hundredth time. Sweat soaked his robe, stinging his eyes, but he forced himself to keep going.
Even here, in his own courtyard, he felt the weight of his weakness.
In their circle of friends, there was no doubt—he was the weakest.
Hells, even the least talented.
His teeth ground together at the thought.
He trained until his arms could no longer rise. He meditated until his mind threatened to snap. And yet… nothing changed. His cultivation remained shackled at the lowest step: a mere mortal body refiner.
Sect recruitment was coming soon. Each passing day pressed harder against his chest. If he couldn't change, his friends would leave him behind.
He shook the thoughts from his mind, forcing himself to focus on something else—Su Xinyue.
Even though he was just a common orphan, she had never treated him like one. She was kind, encouraging… and she had been the one to share his first clumsy kiss.
"Still training like a fool?" came a sharp, teasing voice.
Lang Xinya looked up to see Ten Shing leaning casually against the gatepost, arms crossed. "What, afraid you won't catch up?"
Xinya scowled, tightening his grip on the sword. "You're the one always looking for a fight!"
Ten Shing grinned, undeterred. "Just keeping you on your toes, weakling. Can't have you lazing around and falling too far behind now, can we?"
Before the argument could escalate, a soft voice broke in.
"Enough, you two," Su Xinyue said, walking toward him with a tray in her hands. "You'll both hurt yourselves if you keep this up."
Xinya's gaze fell on her, warmth flickering in his chest. She held out the tray with a small cup of tea. "Drink this," she said, smiling gently.
Just then, Teng Shing strode into the courtyard, sword slung across his back. "Morning, Xinya," he said, voice casual, "still whining about training? Pathetic."
Xinya shot him a glare, but Su Xinyue giggled softly.
Teng Shing's gaze lingered on Su Xinyue longer than necessary. "And you," he said, smirking, "don't think I'll let you slack off. Or steal her away."
Xinya's chest tightened, but Su Xinyue's hand brushing against his arm reminded him she was still by his side.
For a fleeting moment, the warmth in his chest returned.
But then—
A sharp, arrogant voice cut through the morning air.
"Miss Su. How did I know I'd find you at this commoner's hovel?"
Lang Xinya froze. Tao Chen, dressed in fine silks and accompanied by a string of lackeys, stood at the courtyard gate, grin sharp and arrogant.
Xinya's fingers tightened on his sword hilt. Ten Shing's smirk vanished, replaced by an alert gleam in his eyes.
The morning warmth, laughter, and teasing—all of it—had been shattered.
And just like that, the real test had arrived.
"Tao Shen."
Su Xinyue's voice was cold, her eyes narrowing into a glare. "What are you doing here?"
Tao Shen's grin spread like a demon's mask.
"Just saying hello… to my fiancée."
"What?!"
It wasn't Su Xinyue who shouted—it was Lang Xinya.
Tao Shen's laughter rang out, echoed by his pack of lackeys.
"Look at him, coveting what isn't his. A duck daring to dream of swan meat!"
Lang Xinya's hand trembled against his sword hilt. He turned to Su Xinyue, searching her face.
Her eyes wavered. Glassy. Ashamed. She looked away.
"It isn't set in stone," she said quickly. "I constantly fight against it—I swear!"
Tao Shen scoffed, his sneer twisting into anger.
"Explaining politics to a commoner? Pathetic. What's next—are you going to tell me you love him?" His finger jabbed toward Lang Xinya.
"Him? A mortal with no qi? No talent?"
"He's better than you," Su Xinyue snapped, stepping forward. "I won't marry any of you idiots, no matter what my family says. Now get lost!"
She gestured sharply, shooing them away.
Tao Chen's grin widened, sharp as a dagger.
"Such tough talk. Tell me, wife… what happens to him if you weren't here?"
He leaned closer, voice dripping with menace. "Converting another man's… wife would leave him dead."
The air around Su Xinyue shifted instantly.
"Touch him, and I'll kill you!" Her aura flared, eyes burning with lethal intent.
Tao Chen chuckled, unbothered.
"And cause a war between our families? I don't think so."
He turned his glare toward Lang Xinya. "I'll be seeing you guys around. Surely you're planning to attend the Dawnlight Pavilion sect opening?"
"What about it?" Teng Shing interjected, stepping forward.
Tao Chen's smirk deepened. "Let's make it interesting. If the commoner can't get in… you marry me, Su Xinyue."
"I wouldn't marry you even with a blade to my neck," she shot back, voice steady.
"Then what if that neck… belongs to him?" Tao Chen's eyes glinted, and a dark promise lingered in the air.
Su Xinyue's eyes widened.
"You wouldn't."
"Maybe I wouldn't… but with coin on the line, someone else surely would."
He leaned back, sneering, letting the threat hang like a stormcloud.
Tch.
Lang Xinya stepped forward, chest out, head held high.
"You can't force Xinyue to do anything by using me. If I don't get in, I'll leave her alone."
"Xinya…" Su Xinyue's voice trembled, caught between fear and admiration.
"Deal," Tao Chen said, smirking as he gestured to his lackeys. "Stay safe."
With that, Tao Chen and his entourage left, their laughter fading into the morning air