The academy gates stood tall, unchanged.
As he stepped inside, familiar voices and laughter filled the air. Students moved as usual, nothing out of place.
Yet his eyes searched only for one person.
And it didn't take long.
Near the practice yard—
Zhao Han.
Exactly where he always was.
Sword in hand.
Posture straight.
Expression cold.
Unchanged.
For a moment, Li Xian just stood there.
Watching.
A strange sense of relief settled in his chest.
He's fine.
"…You're staring."
Zhao Han's voice cut through the distance without him even turning around.
Li Xian blinked, then let out a small breath.
"Heh… you noticed?"
Zhao Han finally turned to face him.
Their eyes met.
For a second—
Silence.
"You're back," Zhao Han said.
Same tone.
Same calm.
But his gaze lingered just a little longer than before.
"Yeah," Li Xian replied. "Missed me?"
The words came out automatically.
Like old times.
teasing energy.
Zhao Han's expression didn't change.
"No."
A pause.
Then—
"You were gone longer than expected."
Li Xian raised a brow slightly.
"Oh? You were keeping track?"
"…No."
Too quick.
A faint smile appeared on Li Xian's lips.
For a moment, neither spoke.
The space between them felt unfamiliar now.
Not distant—
But not easy either.
"How is your wound now?"
Zhao Han's eyes shifted slightly to Li Xian's arm.
Li Xian glanced at it, then shrugged. "It's nothing."
"You say that often."
"…And I'm always right."
Zhao Han didn't reply.
But his gaze didn't move away immediately.
Li Xian looked at him for a second longer.
Something in his chest felt lighter.
And heavier.
At the same time.
"…You're okay," Li Xian said quietly.
Zhao Han frowned slightly. "What?"
"Nothing," Li Xian replied quickly, shaking his head. "Just saying."
Silence fell again.
But this time—
It wasn't uncomfortable.
"…You should return to training," Zhao Han said finally.
"Hmm… already ordering me around?" Li Xian muttered.
"You've been away for days."
Li Xian smirked faintly. "Worried I'll fall behind?"
Zhao Han's gaze sharpened.
"You already have."
For the first time—
Li Xian let out a real laugh.
Small.
But real.
"Then I guess…" he said, stepping forward, hand moving to his sword,
"I'll have to catch up."
Zhao Han turned fully toward him now.
No words.
But his stance shifted slightly.
Ready.
And just like that—
Without saying it—
They returned...