I felt it before I saw him.
A sudden chill ran down my spine, sharp and cold, as if something unseen had stepped too close.
Then-
I turned.
Qian.
He was right behind me.
Close enough that I could feel his presence pressing against the air around me, heavy and controlled.
His eyes-
cold.
Sharp.
Locked onto mine as if trying to read something I didn't even know I was hiding.
My throat tightened.
"Qia- Qian… when did you-"
I couldn't finish.
His gaze didn't move.
Not even slightly.
"What are you doing here?"
His voice was low.
Not loud.
Not angry.
But it carried something that made it harder to breathe.
I froze.
My mind went blank for a second, scrambling for something...anything.
I remembered something faint… something I had once learned.
*When cornered...lie.*
"I was heading back," I said, forcing the words out. "Piao and the others… they'll be worried."
He watched me.
Longer than necessary.
Like he was weighing every word, every breath, every pause.
"No need," he replied calmly. "I already informed Sister Piao and the others about your stay."
My chest tightened.
"…Oh."
I lowered my gaze slightly.
"I thought Piao would treat me… since my wounds opened again."
For the first time-
his expression shifted.
Just a little.
Something unreadable passed through his eyes.
"We have good medicine here," he said, his tone quieter now. "I… told Sister that you would be healing here."
A pause.
Silence stretched between us, thin and fragile.
"Now," he said finally, "come. Sleep."
Before I could react-
he moved.
His arms slipped around me, lifting me effortlessly off the ground.
I didn't resist.
Not because I didn't want to-
but because I couldn't.
My body was still weak, and his hold was… steady.
Unyielding.
The world shifted as he carried me back through the halls, his steps quiet, controlled, as if he had done this countless times before.
When we reached the room, he placed me down gently onto the soft bedding.
Carefully.
As if I might break.
For a moment, he didn't move away.
His hand lifted.
Then slowly, almost absentmindedly, his fingers brushed through my hair.
"Your hair…" he murmured.
His fingers slid down the length of it, pale strands slipping between them.
"…it's unusual."
A pause.
"…White."
His voice softened.
"Beautiful."
Something in my chest stilled.
All the air seemed to leave my body at once.
*Beautiful…*
So this…
this is what that word meant.
I stared at him.
Not understanding it fully--
but feeling it.
Without thinking, I spoke.
"Your eyes are also… unique."
He paused.
"Blue," I added quietly.
For a brief second-
his eyes changed.
They softened.
Lit faintly-
like distant stars catching light.
"…Yeah?" he said, almost under his breath.
Then-
just as quickly--
he turned away.
"Sleep."
That was all.
I didn't question it.
Didn't ask anything more.
I turned slightly on the bed, facing his direction, my eyes slowly closing as the quiet of the room wrapped around me.
And I slept.
Days passed.
Then weeks.
Doctors came and went, tending to my wounds with careful hands and quiet voices, while time moved slowly, almost gently.
I learned things.
Not through words-
but by watching.
Qian.
He wasn't just a fighter.
He was their master.
I saw him in the training grounds, standing among the children, his presence sharp and commanding as he guided their movements, corrected their mistakes, and shaped them into something stronger.
But after that night-
we barely spoke.
He was always busy.
Always somewhere else.
Or perhaps-
just not there when I was.
From the others, I heard things.
Fragments.
Whispers.
He had duties.
At the King's palace.
The place I now stayed in was not just a shelter.
It was something more.
A place filled with children- orphans, like me , once.
Children who laughed.
Played.
Studied.
Lived.
It felt… unfamiliar.
I had never lived like this.
My days used to be filled with a sword in my hand, training until my body could no longer move, whether Master was watching or not.
There was no rest.
No softness.
But here-
time slowed.
The children trained, yes.
But they also played.
Argued.
Smiled.
Piao spent her time among them, her presence warm and constant, bringing food, laughter, and comfort in ways I had never seen before. I'm not jealous... because I'm also there, right next to her...
Sometimes she stayed up through the night, sitting beside me, making sure I wasn't in pain.
Jun, on the other hand, taught me things I had never needed before.
Words.
Meanings.
Ideas.
Mistakes.
Regret.
Love.
Dreams.
He spoke about how every person walks their own path.
How each life holds something different.
How everyone carries a soul that belongs only to them.
I listened.
Not fully understanding.
But trying.
Time passed.
Months.
A year...
My wounds healed.
Faster than expected.
Even the doctors seemed surprised at how quickly my body recovered.
And then-
one day-
I found him.
Qian.
He stood at the training grounds, watching over the others as always.
I walked up to him.
Steady.
Certain.
"I want you to train me as well."
His eyes widened slightly.
Just for a moment.
Then-
without a word-
he turned.
"Come."
He led me to the battlefield.
The same ground.
The same place where I fell for the first time...
He stopped.
Turned to face me.
"Sure."
A wooden plank stood upright before me.
Thick.
Solid.
Unforgiving.
He placed it in front of me.
Stepped back.
"Slice it."
His eyes locked onto mine.
Watching.
Waiting.
Not just for the strike-
but for something deeper.