By midday, the rumors had already spun into three different versions. In the east market, folks were saying the Chen Family had finally come to their senses after enduring enough. Over in the tea houses near the academy road, the story was that Bia Yuzhen had stood there with a deathly pale face, utterly speechless. And down on weapon street, someone was absolutely certain he'd seen Yuzhen practically begging Chen Xianyi to reconsider, only to be flat-out rejected in front of everyone.
None of them had actually been there, of course. But that never stopped anyone in Mingzu City from spinning a yarn.
Their carriage rolled down the main street, the Bia Family crest hanging plainly on its side. Nobody dared to block their path. They'd be insane to try. Still, the closer they got to the inner city, the slower the horses seemed to pull, as if the entire city itself was just trying to get a good long look.
Inside the carriage, Bia Yuzhen leaned his hand against the window frame. He'd turned down the sedan chair his grandmother offered, refused the back route to the estate, and with a smile so faint it barely counted, had shot down every attempt to make this journey any easier.
Across from him sat Lin Suyue. She didn't ask if he regretted facing the Chen Family head-on, or how much it hurt. The old woman just took one look at him, noticed the tension in his shoulders, and reached out to smooth down the crease in his sleeve. That simple, ordinary gesture nearly undid him.
"Grandmother," he murmured.
"Hm?"
"If I ask you not to have those gossips from the market dragged out and punished, will you agree?"
She gave him a cool look. "Depends. Are you asking because you feel sorry for them, or because you don't want people saying the Bia Family can't handle a few words?"
Yuzhen let out a sigh through his nose. "The second one."
"I figured."
The carriage slowed. Even through the thick curtain, he could hear the market now – vendors shouting, wheels rattling on the stones, voices rising and falling, dropping to a hush when the Bia crest came into view, then picking up again once they thought they were out of earshot.
A man's laugh cut through the noise from somewhere to his left. "Told you so. A broken foundation is worse than a crippled path. At least with a crippled path, you can still hope."
"Shh! You want to die?"
"Die? For speaking the truth?"
A younger voice chimed in, eager. "I heard the Chen Family gave back all the engagement gifts right then and there."
"Nah, you got it wrong. It was the Bia Family that smashed the betrothal token."
"No way. If Bia Yuzhen still had that much pride, he wouldn't be hiding in a carriage."
The driver snapped the reins. The horses surged forward. Lin Suyue's expression didn't change, but the air in the carriage grew a little colder.
Yuzhen peered through the tiny gap in the curtain. He caught only glimpses – crowded stalls, the hems of robes, the bright red of candied fruit on a stick, a kid perched on a stone bench trying to see over the adults. Just normal, everyday market scenes. They should have felt miles away from him. Somehow, they didn't. That was the worst part. Mingzu City hadn't changed at all. Only the way it looked at him. He let the curtain fall back into place.
The carriage reached the Bia estate not long after, but just before it passed through the main gates, another procession crossed their path. Blue robes. Silver-threaded hems. A carriage so impeccably lacquered it practically mirrored the afternoon sun. The Xu Family.
The two convoys slowed, meeting in the middle of the street. For a single, tense second, no one moved. Then, the door of the Xu carriage swung open, and a young man stepped out without waiting for a servant's help.
Xu Yansheng. Sixteen years old. At the late Qi Condensing stage. The Xu Family's most talked-about young talent, second only to Yuzhen before his… situation. He was already broad-shouldered, handsome in that bold, obvious way people seemed to favor, and oozing more confidence than he knew what to do with. He stood there, one hand behind his back, glancing at the Bia carriage as if he'd just happened to stumble upon it.
Yuzhen knew better.
Lin Suyue clicked her tongue softly. "What rotten luck."
"Is it?" Yuzhen asked.
The carriage door opened before she could reply. A servant bowed from outside. "Young Master, Young Mistress Xu asks if the Bia Family requires the road."
Young Mistress Xu? No. That was even worse. Yuzhen stepped out of the carriage himself.
The street fell utterly silent. He could feel it, a hundred pairs of eyes suddenly sharpening the moment his boots hit the cobblestones. Some fixed on his face. More on his waist, where his sword used to hang. A few darted lower, perhaps expecting to see some sign of weakness in the way he stood. He gave them nothing.
Xu Yansheng took him in with a quick sweep of his eyes and a smile. "Young Master Bia."
"Young Master Xu."
"Bad day?"
Straight to the point, then. Yuzhen almost admired the lack of subtlety. "Depends. Were you hoping it was?"
A flicker crossed Xu Yansheng's eyes. Around them, several onlookers suddenly found something else to do, though none of them moved far enough away to miss the exchange.
"I heard what happened," Xu Yansheng continued. "I thought perhaps you might want to lie low for a while."
"Then your thoughtfulness is completely wasted."
A cough sounded from one of the Xu servants. Someone in the crowd stifled a laugh a moment too late. Xu Yansheng's smile tightened.
Before he could say anything else, a light, amused voice called from inside the Xu carriage. "Second Brother, if you keep blocking the road to exchange pleasantries, people will think the Xu Family has too much free time."
A curtain was drawn back from inside by slender fingers. A girl leaned out, perhaps fifteen or sixteen, her eyes sparkling with the kind of intelligence that found trouble amusing. Xu Qingli. Yuzhen knew her by sight; most of Mingzu did. Unlike her brother, she didn't stare at him like she was waiting for him to crumble. She looked once, directly, then smiled as if he were just… himself.
"Young Master Bia," she greeted. "You look better than the rumors made you out to be."
"That sets a pretty low bar," Yuzhen replied.
That earned him the slightest upward curve at the corner of her mouth.
Xu Yansheng frowned. "Qingli."
"What?" she asked. "I'm being polite. Aren't we all trying really hard to be polite?"
The silence that followed was almost pleasant. Even Lin Suyue, still in the carriage, seemed less frosty.
Xu Yansheng exhaled through his nose. "The road is wide enough. There's no need to make a scene."
Coming from him. Yuzhen inclined his head. "Then let's not." He turned to get back into the carriage.
"Bia Yuzhen."
He stopped. Xu Yansheng had called out to him after all. Of course he had. Pride rarely knew when to keep quiet. When Yuzhen looked back, the Xu heir's expression had shifted. It wasn't pity. Not quite mockery either. Something closer to a challenge, though Yuzhen wasn't sure from what position.
"Cangyuan Sect enrollment is in less than three months," Xu Yansheng said. "I'll be going."
A ripple went through the crowd again. Small. Hungry. Yuzhen understood immediately. This wasn't about concern. It was about being seen saying it.
"I know," he said.
Xu Yansheng waited. And there it was. The real question, disguised as nothing. *Will you?*
Yuzhen looked at him for a heartbeat, then another. "I'll see you there," he said.
This time, the stillness on the street was absolute. Xu Qingli's eyebrows shot up. One of the market women almost dropped her basket. A Xu servant looked openly startled before catching himself. Xu Yansheng stared at Yuzhen as if he'd misheard. Yuzhen didn't repeat himself. He stepped back into the carriage, closed the door with his own hand, and sat down before anyone outside could recover enough to speak.
Only when the wheels started rolling again did Lin Suyue turn to him. "You enjoy causing trouble," she stated.
He rested his head lightly against the carriage wall. "No."
"Liar." That almost made him smile.
Outside, the market noise gradually returned, but it sounded different now. Less certain. Less bold. As if the story everyone had been telling all morning had been nudged just slightly off its track. He knew what they were thinking. A broken foundation. A discarded engagement. A father trapped in some secret realm. What exactly was left for Bia Yuzhen to do at Cangyuan Sect except embarrass himself? A perfectly reasonable question.
He closed his eyes briefly. Inside him, spiritual energy stirred in places it shouldn't. Thin, jagged, unreliable. Every time he tried to gather more, it scattered before obeying. His meridians still ached on damp mornings. His dantian felt like cracked jade whenever he cultivated for too long. No physician in Mingzu had lied to him. His foundation was ruined. But ruined wasn't dead.
The carriage passed beneath the Bia gates. As it rolled into the estate, a servant sprinted across the front courtyard, nearly slipping on the stone path. He caught himself, bowed hastily, and lifted his head, clearly agitated. "Young Master," he panted, "the Family Head has sent men to the northern market."
Lin Suyue's gaze sharpened. "For what?"
The servant swallowed. "Someone there was spreading words about you kneeling to the Chen Family."
Yuzhen opened his eyes.
"And?" Lin Suyue pressed.
The servant hesitated. "The Family Head said… if they like talking so much, they can kneel in the square and talk to the paving stones instead."
For the first time all day, Yuzhen laughed. It came out quieter than he expected, a little rough around the edges from disuse, but it was real. Lin Suyue looked at him for a moment, then reached over and tapped his hand once. "Remember that sound," she said. Yuzhen looked at her. "You'll need it," she added, and stepped out of the carriage.
He stayed put for another breath. Beyond the courtyard, beyond the estate walls, Mingzu City was still talking. It would keep talking tomorrow. And the day after. It would pick apart his ruined cultivation, his broken engagement, his father's absence, his face, his pride – whatever scraps it could reach. Let it. He lowered his gaze to his own palm. The marks from his nails were still there, faint crescents against pale skin. Three months. If he couldn't even steady his breath under a few market whispers, what right did he have to say he'd stand at the gates of Cangyuan Sect?
Outside, footsteps approached the carriage again. A servant's voice, careful and low: "Young Master, there is… one more matter."
Yuzhen looked up. "What is it?"
The servant bowed deeper. "The Chen Family has sent someone to return your betrothal jade."