Realisation

The rain had stopped, leaving the ground muddy. Li Qingyue picked her way carefully avoiding the areas that were most concentrated with water. The air smelled of wet soil and crushed grass, fresh but there was lingering storm qi.

"Ugh, I was reading all day but I gained nothing useful." She kicked a pebble, watching it plop into a puddle. "He won't be disappointed, right? It's not like you can always succeed." The image of Zhuan Ming's face flashed in her mind—his calm, expectant expression as he'd said, "See you tomorrow. I hope you have good results." Her stomach twisted.

"Well, nothing can be done. I'll just tell him what I found and hope for the best."

She was so lost in thought that she nearly missed the commotion ahead.

"Get up! You bitch—you muddied the clothes I gave you!"

A man, his fine robes splattered with dirt, was dragging a girl to her feet by the arm. The girl—a disciple, Li Qingyue realized with a start—couldn't have been older than her. Her plain gray training robes were soaked through, her hair coming loose from its braid.

"I'm sorry, Master," the girl stammered, her voice trembling. "The path was slippery, and—"

The man shook her hard enough to make her teeth click. "Do you know how much that silk cost?"

The girl tried to bow, her knees sinking into the mud. "I'll work extra shifts to pay it back, I swear—"

The merchant raised his hand.

Li Qingyue moved before she could think.

"Enough."

The merchant turned, his sneer faltering when he saw her inner disciple robes.

"This doesn't concern you, Miss," he said, though his grip on the girl loosened slightly.

Li Qingyue met his gaze, her voice icy. "It does when you're disrupting sect grounds." She flicked a glance at the girl. "Up."

The girl scrambled to her feet, her eyes wide.

The merchant's face darkened. "She's under contract to me. This is none of your—"

"Contracts don't override sect law," Li Qingyue said flatly. "And sect law says no disciple may be physically disciplined without a master's oversight." She tilted her head. "Unless you'd like to explain to the elders why you think otherwise?"

A beat of silence. The merchant's jaw worked, but he dropped the girl's arm. "This isn't over," he muttered, before stalking away.

The girl swayed, her breath coming fast. "Th-thank you, Elder Sister."

Li Qingyue hesitated. She should walk away. This wasn't her problem. But the girl's wrists were ringed with bruises, old and new.

"...What's your name?"

"Yanmei," the girl whispered.

Li Qingyue reached into her sleeve and pulled out a small pouch of spirit stones—her allowance for the month. "Take this. Buy out your contract."

Yanmei stared at the pouch like it might bite her. "I—I can't—"

"You can." Li Qingyue pressed it into her hands. "And if that man gives you trouble, you can come to me."

The girl's eyes filled with tears. Before she could speak, Li Qingyue turned on her heel and walked away.

Her heart pounded. Zhuan Ming would call this sentimentality. A waste of resources.

But as she stepped over a patch of mud, she noticed something—the markings her boots left behind. Spiral patterns, just like the ones in Zhuan Ming's drawings.

Wait.

She crouched, tracing the shape with her finger. The mud clung to her skin, but the pattern was unmistakable.

The carvings weren't just symbols.

They were footprints.