The summons came quietly.
No raised voice. No messenger sent running through the halls. Just a folded slip of paper placed beside the servants' register sometime before dawn, marked with a single character written in careful ink.
Mei Lin's name.
Zhou Wei saw it before she did.
He was counting tools, hands moving automatically, eyes scanning the page out of habit more than suspicion. The moment he read it, the warmth inside him tightened, coiling low and dense. Not flaring. Not panicking.
Waiting.
Mei Lin stepped up beside him a breath later. She followed his gaze, then went still.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
"So he's done pretending," she said finally.
Zhou Wei folded the register closed and set it aside. "Yes."
Her fingers curled slowly, then relaxed. He felt the shift inside her immediately. Fear surfaced, sharp but brief, then settled into something narrower. Focus.
"That's new," he said.
She glanced at him. "What is."
"You're not freezing."
She considered that. "I don't have the luxury anymore."
Zhou Wei shook his head. "That's not it. You're choosing how to feel."
That earned a thin smile. "Don't make it sound noble."
"It isn't," he said. "It's practical."
The sky outside was still gray, the air cool and damp against skin. Servants moved quietly through the outer yards, voices low, footsteps careful. The sect had learned to whisper over the last few days.
Mei Lin picked up the slip of paper and smoothed it flat. "He wants me in the inner chambers. Alone."
Zhou Wei nodded. "He thinks this is still his ground."
She inhaled slowly, then folded the paper and tucked it into her sleeve. "I'm going."
The warmth inside Zhou Wei pressed outward, testing restraint.
"I know," he said. "And you won't go empty-handed."
She looked at him sharply. "You said no interference."
"I said no force," Zhou Wei replied. "This is neither."
He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "You will refuse him."
Mei Lin blinked. "Just like that."
"Just like that," he said. "Calmly. Publicly, if possible. With witnesses close enough that he has to choose between retreat and exposure."
"And if he doesn't care."
"He does," Zhou Wei said. "Very much."
She studied his face, searching for doubt. She did not find any.
"All right," she said. "What if my voice shakes."
"It probably will."
"And if he threatens me."
"He will."
Her jaw tightened. "You're very reassuring."
Zhou Wei met her gaze. "This is a test. Not of you. Of him."
The words settled between them.
Mei Lin straightened, smoothing her robe with deliberate care. When she moved, there was no rush in it now. No apology in her posture.
"I won't provoke him," she said. "But I won't bow either."
Zhou Wei nodded once. "That's enough."
He did not follow her.
That was the hardest part.
He positioned himself near the eastern corridor instead, far enough to avoid notice, close enough to feel the tension spike when it came. The warmth inside him stayed tight and quiet, like a blade held close to the body.
Time stretched.
When Mei Lin reached the inner chambers, Zhou Wei felt it immediately. Elder Zhang's presence sharpened, irritation flaring hot before being forced down beneath control. Desire surged, then checked. Surprise followed, thin and sharp.
Something had not gone as expected.
Zhou Wei kept his eyes on the floor as a pair of inner disciples passed him, murmuring quietly. He listened without seeming to.
"…thought she'd be easier…"
"…Elder was displeased…"
"…too many people around…"
The words were fragments, but enough.
Moments later, the inner chamber door opened.
Mei Lin stepped out.
She walked steadily, back straight, hands folded loosely in front of her. Her face was pale, but her eyes were clear. Behind her, Elder Zhang stood framed in the doorway, expression smooth and unreadable.
Zhou Wei felt the truth beneath it.
Fury, leashed so tightly it trembled.
Zhang spoke, voice calm. "You may go."
Mei Lin bowed. Not deeply. Correctly. Then turned and walked away without another word.
Zhou Wei did not look at her until she reached the far end of the corridor.
When she did, she exhaled sharply and leaned against the wall, fingers digging into stone. Her breath shook once, then steadied.
"That was close," she murmured.
Zhou Wei stepped out of the shadows, keeping his voice low. "What did he say."
"That I was forgetting my place," she replied. "That fear was making me arrogant. That he could correct both."
"And you."
"I said I was ill," she said. "That I would not dishonor the sect by appearing before him in such a state."
The warmth inside Zhou Wei pulsed once, restrained approval.
"He didn't like that," she added.
"No," Zhou Wei agreed. "But he couldn't touch you."
Her lips pressed together. "He tried to dismiss the guards."
"And they didn't leave," Zhou Wei finished.
She nodded. "The Heavenly Purity elder was nearby. I could feel it."
That explained the restraint.
Mei Lin laughed softly, then stopped herself. "I thought I would break," she admitted. "When he looked at me like that."
"But you didn't," Zhou Wei said.
"I wanted to," she corrected. "But wanting isn't the same as doing anymore."
That mattered more than either of them said.
They moved apart again as footsteps approached, resuming their roles. Servant. Observer. Nothing out of place.
Later, when they met again near the south wall, Mei Lin spoke first.
"He won't forgive this."
"No," Zhou Wei said. "He'll escalate."
She nodded, unsurprised. "Good."
He studied her carefully. The tremor had faded from her presence now, replaced by something steady and sharp. Not confidence. Not arrogance.
Agency.
"You passed," Zhou Wei said.
Her brow furrowed. "Passed what."
"The first real test," he replied. "Refusal under pressure."
She let that sit for a moment.
"I didn't feel strong," she said. "Just stubborn."
Zhou Wei allowed himself a faint smile. "That's usually how it starts."
As he left her there, returning to the tightening web of the sect, Zhou Wei felt Elder Zhang's intent sharpen somewhere behind him, no longer content with half-measures.
The test had not broken Mei Lin.
Which meant the next one would not be gentle.
And next time, Zhang would not rely on words alone.