Invitation

Hao stood with his hands pressed against the tree, fingers slowly tracing the bark. His red eyes locked onto the moon above, its pale light mirrored in his gaze. A black cloak draped over him, concealing his figure—and his presence.

Without looking away from the sky, he spoke in a low, steady voice.

"It's a long story. I'll tell you—if you agree to come with me."

Lan narrowed her eyes, gripping Qinglong in its cane form.

Her stance sharpened — legs anchored, balance flawless — ready to strike without hesitation.

The night air was still, but the tension between them crackled like static.

She didn't blink. Didn't breathe too loud. Just stared at him like a wolf sizing up prey.

Her voice finally broke the silence, low and edged with doubt.

"Wait…"

The single word slipped past her lips, barely a whisper — not fear, not confusion—just cold calculation.

She shifted subtly, almost like instinct.

A tighter stance. The center of gravity is low. Martial discipline kicking in.

Her grip on Qinglong didn't loosen. If anything, it got stronger.

Then her voice came again, a little sharper now.

"You're asking me to come with you?"

"To your place?"

The words hung in the air, thick with suspicion.

Her gaze didn't waver.

"Seriously… Who even are you?"

He turned his head slightly, just a glance over his shoulder —

Then paused.

His left eye widened for a brief second… before a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

"Hey," he whispered, voice low and dry,

"Why do you girls always treat us like this?"

Lan smirked right back, the glint in her eyes sharper than her blade.

"It's just in our nature," she said, almost sweetly.

"I can't help that."

Before the words finished leaving her lips, she shifted—quick, fluid, like a strike from a coiled snake.

She dropped low into a martial arts stance, then launched.

Qinglong twisted in her hands, morphing mid-motion as she swung it toward him.

At the same time, her body closed the distance. Her fist aimed for his back while the cane-weapon lashed toward his arm.

Fast.

Precise.

But he moved just in time.

He twisted, his body flowing like water under pressure. One hand snapped up, catching Qinglong clean out of the air. The other clamped down on her wrist before her fist could land.

Then—boom.

From the ground, black vines exploded upward like serpents. A thick bale snapped around Lan's free arm, binding her in place.

She struggled, teeth, but she couldn't move.

Completely locked.

He leaned in close, his breath warm against her ear, a dark smile playing on his lips.

"Moving in a rush like that…" he murmured, voice like a shadow.

"That's how you end up knocking on death's door, y'know… pretty girl."

But just as his fingers brushed her wrist to release her—

Qinglong pulsed.

It shimmered with a sudden flash of light, then twisted violently in his grip, breaking free like a beast off its leash.

Before Hao could react, the weapon transformed midair — sleek, deadly — into a full-blown spear.

It spun once, slashing clean through the vines like they were paper, then snapped back into Lan's hand like it had always belonged there.

She grinned.

So did he.

"Damn," he chuckled, clearly impressed.

"Your little partner's got spirit. Didn't expect it to have a will of its own."

Lan's eyes widened for a second… then a soft smile tugged at her lips.

"I gave you the right name," she said warmly. "You're worthy of it, Azure."

Hao glanced at the tree, resting his hand gently on its bark. A small smile crept onto his face.

"It's a good thing," he said thoughtfully, "having a companion like that on a journey."

He paused—then smirked over his shoulder, voice playful.

"Now believe in me… Will you come with me? I've got a friend who can make something that'll make you smile."

Lan stood up, Qinglong shifting smoothly back into cane form in her hand. She turned away, facing the moonlit sky with a calm, steady tone.

"Where's this place?"

Hao looked toward the forest ahead, grinning.

"Follow me this way, pretty girl."

Lan immediately scowled, her tone sharp and sarcastic.

"It's Lan. Lan Zhao. Call me 'pretty girl' again and I swear I'll squeeze your damn balls 'til you see stars."

Hao turned back to her with the tiniest flicker of fear behind his serious expression.

"Alright, alright, Lan," he said, his tone a bit more respectful now. "But… what's the deal with your surname?"

She smirked, voice slipping into something low and mysterious.

"Let's keep that a secret for now."

"Okay…" Hao muttered under his breath, already stepping into the shadows of the trees. "Then stay close. Don't wander off the path."

He shot her a sideways glance and added with a crooked grin—

"Unless you're in the mood to get boiled alive."

Lan didn't say anything at first.

She simply looked ahead, then at the strange man walking into the dark woods with that dumb, confident grin, and followed without a word.

Leaves crunched under their feet. The moonlight flickered through the branches above.

Lan narrowed her eyes.

Boiled alive? What kind of damn place are we going to?

But despite everything—the weird vibes, the danger, the mystery—her grip on Qinglong was relaxed.

For some reason, her instincts told her…

This is just the beginning.

•••