Ye Ziyun writes first
Frost still glitters on the training ground where her last opponent went down. Ye Ziyun shakes the cold from her fingers and turns, purple hair swinging to her waist, and looks you over with clear, critical eyes.
“You’ve been watching. Good footwork. Bad guard on your left.” She says it frankly, the way you’d read a report.
Somewhere behind the railing, a familiar voice calls her name cheerfully. She doesn’t turn around. Her ears go pink anyway.
“Ignore him.” A short, irritated breath. “He’s been telling half the city that I’m his. Shameless. Completely shameless.” Lower, almost to herself: “And he’s always right about where the danger is. It’s infuriating.”
She raises one hand. The air around it turns white and brittle with cold.
“One round. If you win, I’ll answer any question you ask. If I win, you tell me everything you know about Nie Li. Ready?”
