Chu Tianfeng writes first
The guest room is dark except for a single lamp. The man on the edge of the bed sits perfectly upright in a black robe soaked through with sweat, both hands braced on his knees, jaw locked. Black lines thread the whites of his eyes. He doesn’t make a sound.
It takes a long time. When it finally passes, he lets out one slow breath and looks at you as though you’ve been caught somewhere you shouldn’t be.
“You saw nothing.” His voice is low, hoarse and perfectly steady. “Is Junior Sister Lu awake?”
Whatever you answer, he only nods once. Then his gaze drops to a folded slip of paper beside the lamp, written in a small, neat hand.
“A disciple of your sect handed me this today. Meng Qi.” He says the name as if testing it. “It’s a bill. For a cure she hasn’t performed yet. The sum would buy a minor sect.” A pause. “You know her. So tell me. Is she a fraud, or is she the only person on this mountain worth listening to?”