They entered the Mission Hall beneath a dim sky, the weight of dusk pressing through open windows. Cultivators paused mid-step. Conversations fluttered to silence as Yan Shen and Ji Suyin crossed the courtyard. No announcement was necessary; their return was already noted in the stillness.
Inside, Elder Lan Xue sat behind the stone desk, her posture steady. Elder Leng Xin stood beside her, arms folded. Before them lay the evidence:
· 197 early Body Refinement beast cores
· 1 Mid-Foundation Establishment core
· Two bundles of mature moonroot
Lan Xue broke the quiet first, her voice cool and measured. "The assignment authorized retrieval of three cores."
Ji Suyin placed her pouch on the stone with deliberate care. "The area required clearing. We completed the task, then continued."
Leng Xin's gaze moved between them, settling on Yan Shen. "Your cultivation registers at Middle Qi Gathering." Her statement hung in the air, a question without inflection. "Explain the methodology."
Yan Shen did not answer. He did not shift his stance. He remained as he was.
The elders exchanged a silent look. They accepted the documentation, marked the mission as complete, but their attention lingered, not with approval, but with unsettled calculation.
Footsteps sounded from the hall's entrance. Deliberate, measured.
Qin Shuren entered.
The hall adjusted. All movement stilled. All sound ceased.
His gaze swept the room, then settled on Ji Suyin. She stood precisely one pace behind Yan Shen, her posture calm, her control evident. The aura of Early Foundation Establishment glowed softly around her, a new and undeniable fact.
He watched her. The observation was not brief. It was an assessment, clinical, possessive, and devoid of courtesy.
Yan Shen noted the direction and duration of that look. He interpreted its meaning.
Without ceremony, he stepped forward, placing himself directly between Qin Shuren and Ji Suyin. No words. A physical reconfiguration of space. A barrier established through presence alone.
At that moment, Qin Shuren released his Qi.
It flowed outward like cold water spilling across stone, smooth, pervasive, and heavy with intent. Scrolls on nearby desks trembled. The water in the courtyard fountain rippled. The cultivators in the hall felt the pressure settle into their bones.
Ji Suyin inhaled sharply. Her hand rose to her chest as the wave of force struck her. Her breath hitched. She leaned forward, bracing against Yan Shen's back for stability.
Yan Shen did not move immediately. He took one step forward. Then another. He closed the distance until an arm's length separated them.
Only then did he allow his own Qi to manifest.
It did not surge. It appeared, dense, grounded, and primordial. The air between them thickened, crystallizing with opposed pressures. Their energies met and held, a silent contest of mass against refinement. Neither yielded. Both understood the other's weight.
In the suspended silence, Yan Shen spoke.
"You are not worthy of looking at my woman like that."
The words were not loud. They did not need volume. They carried through the hall on the clarity of their intent, and every disciple present felt the line being drawn.
From the elevated walkway, Elder Lan Xue's voice cut through the standoff.
"Enough."
Both elders descended the steps with measured authority. Lan Xue, in jade-green robes, and Leng Xin, her expression stern and unyielding.
Lan Xue spoke first. "The Mission Hall is not an arena."
Leng Xin added, her tone flat. "If conflict is necessary, the Training Hall exists for that purpose. Settle it there."
Qin Shuren's aura withdrew, slowly, cleanly, a calculated retreat. He inclined his head toward the elders, a gesture of respect for authority, not submission.
"Of course," he said. "A formal match will be arranged."
As he turned to leave, Yan Shen spoke again, his tone casual, almost conversational.
"Come on, young master. Don't be a coward."
The hall froze.
The words hung in the air, a public stripping of face. To question courage was not merely provocation; it was a dismantling of social capital.
Qin Shuren halted at the doorway. His back remained to the room for one long breath. Then he turned just enough to fix Yan Shen with a look.
"Soon, you will understand the cost of speaking beyond your station."
A pause.
Then Yan Shen's calm reply.
"If you delay too long, you may find you've lost the opportunity entirely."
Silence, deeper than before, filled the hall.
Ji Suyin's eyes were fixed on Yan Shen's back. Surprise, then a fierce pride, and beneath it, a warmth she did not conceal, flickered in her gaze.
Qin Shuren exited without another word. No dramatic flourish. No backward glance.
Lan Xue returned to the desk.
"Mission recorded. Compensation is doubled."
She offered no further commentary. None was required.
They received their reward, spirit stones, contribution points, a sealed receipt.
Yan Shen inclined his head once in acknowledgment. Then, side by side, he and Ji Suyin walked from the hall.
Outside, the whispers began immediately.
"They clashed in the Mission Hall."
"He challenged his face directly."
"When they announce the date, the Training Hall will be packed."
Among the inner disciples gathered in hushed clusters, nods and frowns were exchanged. This was not merely a personal dispute. It was a crack appearing in the sect's established order, small, but potentially structural.
As they walked beneath the weeping willow branches, Ji Suyin leaned subtly into Yan Shen's side. His presence was unyielding, a fixed point in shifting currents.