Qin Yue did not slow her steps until she was far from the training ground.
Only when the stone paths curved and Lin Yuan's presence faded from her senses did she finally stop.
Her chest felt tight.
She pressed a hand lightly against it and took a slow breath.
Calm down.
She had faced life-and-death situations before. High-grade beasts. Broken meridians. Exhaustion so deep she thought she would collapse where she stood. Compared to that, a conversation should have been nothing.
And yet—
Her heartbeat still hadn't settled.
Why does he always do this to me? she thought, half-frustrated, half-resigned.
He hadn't said anything improper. Hadn't acted cold or dismissive. He had treated her the same way he always did—calm, polite, distant.
That was the problem.
Qin Yue had grown up surrounded by attention.
As a talented disciple, as someone who broke through faster than most, people looked at her differently. Compliments, admiration, expectation—she had heard them all.
But Lin Yuan had never looked at her that way.
From the very first day, his gaze had been steady and clear, without hunger or judgment. When he spoke to her, it was always about cultivation, about stability, about what came next.
Never about feelings.
She leaned against a stone railing and closed her eyes.
I love you.
The words echoed again in her mind, as they had countless times before.
She had fallen in love quickly.
Too quickly.
The hunting competition had been meant to temper her experience. Instead, it had nearly ended her life.
She could still remember the weight in her limbs, the burning pain in her side, the sound of beasts closing in from every direction. She had been proud back then—too proud to retreat early, too stubborn to ask for help.
When she finally realized she couldn't escape, fear had washed over her so suddenly that it stole her breath.
Then the sky had split.
One strike.
Clean and terrifying.
Every beast fell.
And when she looked up, Lin Yuan stood there, robes untouched, expression calm, as if he had simply arrived late to a gathering.
At that moment, something in her heart had broken open.
Strength like that… control like that…
How could anyone not fall?
Qin Yue opened her eyes.
She had trained harder since then. Pushed herself past exhaustion. Ignored injuries she should have rested. Not because she wanted fame.
Because she wanted to stand closer to him.
Not beside him.
Closer.
Even now, after reaching Peak Foundation Establishment, she knew the truth.
I'm still not worthy.
She had sensed it clearly today.
Lin Yuan had grown again.
Not in realm—she knew he was suppressing himself—but in presence. His control was sharper, his aura more refined. It felt as if the distance between them had widened instead of shrinking.
And Zhao Ming…
Her lips pressed together.
Zhao Ming was arrogant, obsessed, and bitter—but he was not stupid. His resentment came from losing to Lin Yuan, but his drive was real.
She understood that feeling.
She just didn't let it turn into hatred.
Qin Yue straightened and resumed walking.
Around her, the inner sect was alive with quiet activity. Disciples trained, debated techniques, discussed the upcoming ranking battle. Names were whispered. Predictions were made.
Lin Yuan's name surfaced again and again.
Always followed by speculation.
Always followed by longing.
She noticed the glances.
Female disciples who pretended not to look.
Male disciples who measured him silently.
Rivals who burned with ambition.
And none of them truly knew him.
They see the surface, she thought. That's all.
She reached her residence and closed the door behind her.
The quiet pressed in immediately.
She sat down and began circulating her cultivation, but her mind refused to settle.
I should tell him, she thought suddenly.
The idea startled her.
Why not?
She was not weak. Not anymore. She had talent, background, and resolve. Even her master had praised her foundation.
So why did the words refuse to leave her throat?
Her hands clenched.
Because you're afraid.
Afraid he'll look at you the same way he looks at everything else.
Calm. Distant. Unmoved.
She opened her eyes sharply.
No.
She wouldn't let fear decide everything.
Even if she couldn't say it now, she would move forward.
Stronger.
Closer.
Until one day—
"I love you," she whispered softly into the empty room.
Saying it out loud, even to no one, made her heart race.
She smiled faintly.
"I'll catch up," she said quietly. "Just… wait."
Outside, the sect bells rang, announcing another day of cultivation.
Qin Yue stood.
Her resolve had never been clearer.