Ningyan hung upside down from a tree branch in the sparring grounds, arms folded behind his head as his hair dangled freely.
"Ugh. Why does he keep looking at me? It's creepy," he muttered.
Below him, Rong Chao paced leisurely with a scroll in hand, not even glancing up. "I think it's because you stabbed him," he replied calmly. "And he's finally back after spending a full week in critical condition."
Ningyan's gaze drifted back to Mingze.
The phoenix clan heir was sparring with a girl, his movements sharp and aggressive but his fiery, serpent-like eyes kept flicking toward Ningyan, each glance heavy with promise.
Promise of death.
Ningyan clicked his tongue and pulled himself upright, sitting on the branch. Over the past week, he had focused heavily on agility, refining his stage one cultivation further. His body was lighter, sharper.
Wuhen had helped whenever he could. Even busy, he never refused Ningyan training time at the manor.
