Five hundred contribution points was a pretty good consolation gift for having lost a duel. Not to mention her increased perception, which was by and far more valuable than the contribution points ever could be— she was practically beaming when she was finally able to walk out of Qinfu’s pagoda and back onto the streets of the University of East Saffron.

  A cold spell had passed by while she was indisposed, and the campus had transformed under the oncoming of fall— and, closer than ever, winter’s first touch. The vigor of summer lay in tatters, glorious canopies shot through aureate and touch vermillion, and scarlet in turn, all the colors of fall intertwining to make the skies overstreet look as though they were wrought of gemstone and gold. There was a pleasantly crisp smell to the air, too, a mellow scent of wet leaves and bark, and rain passed recently. Not the usual acrid scent of East Saffron’s cramped city environs, by any means, but then again the University was not a usual part of the city.

  Nobody paid her any heed. Not that she’d really been expecting anything, but it felt almost… odd, to just go back to her regular schedule after all of that. Certainly, she’d not be accepting any more duels from suspicious individuals until she seriously upgraded her combat potential…

  Then her eyes caught on the radiance that was Avyr.

  Even compared to the other cultivators she’d seen, his qi had a deeply unique depth to it. It folded in on itself and pulsed in unison with the sunlight, vibrating and breathing in turn with the world around him as he walked. It was so much more alive than any other cultivator she’d seen after making her breakthrough. Not even Qinfu compared, though she was pretty sure most of the vibrancy of his cultivation was locked up behind the layers of his core, where her vision could not pierce, no matter how hard she strained to see.

  “It’s good to see you— hey. Stop that. Stop it.” Avyr playfully batted away her hand as she ran it through his fur, tracing the lines of sunlit light that folded away from her sight the moment she seemed to get a good look at them. It was… unfortunate, that she couldn’t perceive the totality of it, but in turn it was also exciting. That there was something out there still that defied her sight, deeper still… it meant there was more to go. “Seriously!” One final bat pushed her away with a stumble— the moment she did, Avyr pushing forward and fretting over her as though she were an injured kitten. “You’re alright, right? I’ve been worried.”

  She snorted, pushing herself upright, and trying not to focus at all on the way that she felt just a little more unsteady than she had before the duel. “I’m fine. Honestly, Avyr. I’m fine.”

  “You weren’t very convincingly fine when you were pawing at me just a few seconds ago.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I made a breakthrough in my qi sight. I can now perceive the…” how to put it— “the dimensions of qi much better. There’s more depth to all the qi around us than you could ever imagine.” Avyr gave her a doubtful look, and she just giggled. “Seriously! There really is so much. Like—” she pointed at him. “You, for example. Your cultivation folds in on itself and continuously revolves in these… countercyclical pathways? And that’s just the stuff that I can see. There’s so much more hidden in the intricacies of it.”

  Avyr glanced up at her, slightly surprised. “That’s actually part of my cultivation technique. One of the major aspects is a twice anti-parallel orbit around my more. When actively cultivating, I perceive them more as cylinders than mere revolutions, but they’re critical in the refining portion of the technique.” He was silent for a second. “You’ve a powerful tool, there, if your perception allows you to see someone else’s cultivation without meditating.”

  “I think that’s more of the interpretation side of things. Plus—” she snickered for a brief moment— “most people’s cultivation is a lot more boring than you might think. I’m a mere Shedding cultivator, not the sort of power that would be able to discern the secrets of heaven and earth at a glance. It’ll be useful for formations, though.”

  “Heaven and earth…” he trailed off for a brief second. “Mingtian gave me this cultivation method. He gave you the method to achieve higher comprehension in perception. It’s… odd, don’t you think?”

  Lily nodded. “Yeah, I suppose so. His background must be pretty weird. Whatever led to him living in East Saffron…” she shrugged. “One of those thoughts, you know?”

  Slowly, they began the walk back to their house, the cool air a pleasant counterpoint to the gentle stroll. It was one of those times, when the weather was just nice enough, before things would get rather bitter come the bite of winter’s advent. For a while, Avyr didn’t talk, merely walking alongside her, which was fine. She could appreciate that well enough. It was nice, being back with him.

  Together again.

  This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  ……….

  She set to cooking the moment she got home. Not that Qinfu’s food had been bad by any measure of the imagination— she was pretty sure someone would have to be clinically insane to call food for Core Formation cultivators bad— but she’d missed her own favorite recipes. Avyr had tried to help, but she’d shooed him off, claiming that she’d wanted to cook things her own way. Plus, despite how good Avyr had gotten around the house, he was still of a rather incompatible bodyplan. It made everything just a little bit awkward at times.

  He didn’t leave the room, though, content instead to stay with her as she chopped up the vegetables and set to work readying the meat. “So… how has the University been, since the duel?”

  Avyr flicked an ear, so slightly tilting his head, so slightly unbothered. “It’s been as you might imagine. A great deal has changed, and a great deal hasn’t changed at all. I think every single teacher mentioned the duel at least once in class, though I can’t speak for your instructors, of course. The combat class had analyzing the duel as an entire day’s worth of class.”

  “Really?”

  “We went over it in exhausting detail. What you did wrong, what Banwei did wrong…” Avyr shivered softly, hackles rising just for a moment before he calmed himself. “I did not particularly enjoy that class. Everyone kept asking me questions.” He scowled. “They kept demanding to know how I got so close to the fight without anyone noticing. It’s not my fault that Banwei and the outer disciple were unobservant!" There was a real vitriol in his voice, though it didn’t take a genius to know that it wasn’t borne of that specific misinterpretation. At least, not that alone.

  Lily paused her cooking for a moment, wiping carrot juice off her hands on the nearby kitchen towel before ruffling the fur between Avyr’s ears. “Sounds rough. Can’t imagine what could possibly be worse than getting bothered by your fellow students for winning a duel.”

  “I didn’t win, I successfully interfered. There’s a rather dramatic difference, I’m sure you’re aware.” Nevertheless, there was that certain look to the cat, slightly smug, eyes atwinkle, that made her know he was taking the whole thing in good humor.

  “And Banwei? What happened to him?”

  “He… hasn’t shown his face in classes yet. I heard he got an exemption similar to yours.”

  Lily’s eye twitched, and if her next sliced down into the carrot was hard enough to embed the knife in the chopping block and cast strange eddies in the natural qi of the world, then nobody would ever have to know. “How? Qinfu told me he only managed that because he was favored by some elder or another. How did Song Banwei of all people manage that?”

  “His clan is an important clan, I gathered. It’s not entirely beyond belief that they have some connections they can pull on when it comes to these sorts of things.” Which… made sense. She’d just stupidly assumed that just because the Outer Elder had come down on that other disciple with the crushing condemnation of heavenly fire, that nobody else would— or even could— stand up for Banwei. A wrong impression, as it were.

  Unfortunately. She’d have loved to have him left high and dry, his only support taken by the Outer Elder away to who-knew-where. That would’ve been a large weight off her shoulder.

  “I’m not going to have to fight the other Song clansman, will I?”

  Avyr was quiet for a moment. “It depends. I did tell him that if he laid so much as a single hand on you that I would challenge him to a duel and rip out his guts, but I’m not sure if the threat really sank in. It’s entirely possible that he’ll be able to pull on his family connections somehow to get an artifact or slaughter formation or some such implement that would allow him to deal with me after he’s killed you.”

  That was… not a particularly reassuring answer. She sighed, tying— and largely failing— to focus on the meal in front of her, throwing the last of the vegetables into a bowl and drenching it with a variety of sauces. Not too much sauce, hopefully, though she had…

  She paused, for a moment just staring at the bowl full of chopped greens, smeared over with the blood of spicy pepper paste. “I’m going to have to put some work into making some new combat… things. I need to be able to beat anyone who dares to challenge me, and it can’t even be close.” There were rules that were supposed to prevent this sort of disorder… but, no, they were walking the path into the lawless domain of the jianghu. It was a bit earlier than she’d expected, but this sort of thing was something she’d just have to learn to deal with over time.

  “I won’t let them hurt you.” There was a terrible conviction in Avyr’s voice, low, a growl rumbling in his chest that almost managed to seem threatening even to her.

  Still… Lily couldn’t but smile. “I wonder what I did to deserve such a good friend.”

  “I, the same.” He pressed against her, for a moment, the gentle warmth of his fur brushing across her a pleasant counterpoint to the chill that had managed to invade the kitchen through the open window… “I’ve been lonely this past while. Everything has been overturned, Lily, caught and changed, and…” he sighed. “I’m glad you’re back.”

  Lily just nodded, staring at nothing in particular. “Me too.”