Bargain

The rain fell in silver sheets, turning the training grounds into a glistening mirror of the storm-heavy sky. Li Qingyue stood motionless in the center of a simple array, her fingers weaving Rule Path energy between the raindrops. Golden light flickered as she bent the falling water into perfect geometric patterns—a beginner's exercise, but one she executed with great precision.

"Your control is improving," Zhuan Ming observed, stepping just outside the array's boundary, the rain parting around him as if unwilling to touch his robes.

Li Qingyue didn't startle—she'd sensed his presence the moment he entered the courtyard. "It should be," she said, not pausing her work. "You're the one who insisted I practice Rule Path and familiarize myself with it before moving forward." A final gesture, and the array solidified, the air within its boundaries visibly denser. She turned to face him, wiping her brow. "We should go inside."

Li Qingyue's quarters were meticulously organized—a reflection of her Rule Path discipline. Shelves lined the walls, each scroll and artifact placed with deliberate care. A low table sat centered in the room, its surface polished to a shine, with a neatly arranged tea set waiting atop it. The only hint of disorder was a single, half-unfurled scroll left open near the window, its edges fluttering slightly in the damp breeze.

"What do you want?" she asked as she closed the door behind them, shutting out the drum of rain.

"I need you to help me by going to the library's second floor," Zhuan Ming said, shaking the rain from his sleeves. "Look through texts to help me decipher markings I found."

I don't want to, she thought. But then she remembered the countless hours he'd spent stabilizing her condition, the artifacts he'd procured, the patience he'd shown when her control faltered.

"Okay," she said after a pause. "But I want a small reward."

"A reward?" Zhuan Ming replied in a confused manner.

"I promise it's nothing much and will take you only a second," she replied, suddenly flustered.

"What is it?" Zhuan Ming asked, somewhat curious.

"I'll tell you later," she said.

He studied her—the way her fingers twisted in her sleeves, the quick dart of her tongue over her lips. The pieces clicked together. Amusement curled in his chest. "Ah."

"Okay, I agree," he said.

Zhuan Ming pulled out drawings of the markings he'd found—a series of intricate, interlocking spirals that seemed to shift under the light, their edges blurred as if half-erased by time.

She analyzed them, her brow furrowing. "These aren't just symbols. They're... layered. Like a puzzle." She nodded. "Okay, I'll look through the texts."

A silence settled between them, filled only by the patter of rain against the roof.

"Anyways," she said abruptly, "do you want tea? It must be cold outside, and I can't send you back out in this rain."

"I'll be fine. I already had tea," he said. "I'll take my leave. See you tomorrow—I hope you have good results."