༺༻
o n e
☽✧☾
The perfect angle. That was all Lu Hua cared about in that crystalline, water-distorted moment. The late afternoon sun backlit the weeping willows dipping their emerald fingers into Emerald Mist Lake, casting long, romantic shadows. Her phone, encased in a garish pink otter case, was held precariously over the water, her reflection a wide-eyed, slightly pouting girl with artfully tousled dark hair. Just one more shot. The filter needed that exact shimmer off the water.
She leaned back, stretching for the composition, the weathered wooden planks of the little pier cool beneath her sandals. Her heel met empty air. A startled yelp ripped from her throat, swallowed instantly by the shockingly cold water as she plunged backwards. The phone flew from her grasp, a pink blur swallowed by the green depths. Panic, thick and cloying as the weeds suddenly tangling her legs, seized her. She kicked wildly, but the water felt heavier, denser than it should. The surface shimmered impossibly far above, the sunlight fracturing into alien, jade-green patterns. 'Not deep... shouldn't be this deep!' her mind screamed, lungs burning. Darkness crowded her vision, not peaceful, but frantic and cold. The last coherent thought was a furious, waterlogged curse aimed at the stupid lake, the stupid selfie, her own stupid balance.
★
Master Li Chen preferred the silence of twilight. High within the secluded Bamboo Whisper Pavilion, perched on the cliffs overlooking the mist-wreathed Ling Jian Academy complex, the world below seemed distant, manageable. Scrolls of intricate star charts and meridian diagrams lay unfurled before him on a low lacquered table, illuminated by a single, steady spirit-lamp. His long hair, the colour of freshly fallen snow, spilled over his shoulders and onto the dark wood floor like a frozen waterfall. His face, though bearing the timeless agelessness of profound cultivation, held a stillness that spoke of deep focus, perhaps weariness. The quiet was a balm.
Then, it shattered.
SPLASHHH!
The sound was jarringly loud in the pristine silence, echoing up from the usually placid Jade Reflection Pool nestled directly below the pavilion. Not the delicate plop of a koi, nor the rhythmic dip of a waterfowl's beak. This was a heavy, clumsy, full-bodied displacement of water. An intrusion.
Li Chen's pale silver eyes, sharp as honed glacier ice, flickered open. No ripple of annoyance crossed his serene features, only a swift, analytical alertness. He hadn't sensed any approach, no surge of Qi, no ward triggered. That in itself was... irregular. Setting down the delicate brush he hadn't realized he'd been holding, he rose in one fluid, silent motion. His pristine white and silver robes, embroidered with subtle, shifting patterns of frost, whispered against the floor.
He stepped onto the pavilion's open balcony, the cool evening air brushing against his skin. Below, the surface of the Jade Reflection Pool churned violently. Moonlight, just beginning to silver the water, caught on frantic movement. Something - someone - was flailing near the rocky edge.
Before Li Chen could fully process the anomaly, a head broke the surface with a desperate, ragged gasp. A girl. She clawed at the slick rocks, coughing violently, expelling gouts of water. Her movements were graceless, panicked, utterly foreign to the controlled energy cultivated within Ling Jian's walls. Her clothing was bizarre - tight, dark blue leggings, a strangely short, sodden tunic in a faded colour he couldn't name, clinging to her slight frame. Her long dark hair plastered itself to her face and neck like wet seaweed.
"Ugh! Cough! Blegh! Stupid... cough... friggin'... lake!" she gasped between retches, her voice raw and loud, shattering the tranquil twilight. She hauled herself halfway onto a flat rock, collapsing onto her stomach, shivering violently, utterly oblivious to the imposing figure watching from above.
Li Chen observed, the girl dressed like no citizen of the Celestial Empire he knew. She appeared without trace or warning in the academy's most sacred reflecting pool.
His left hand moved, a flicker of motion almost too fast to see. No grand gesture, just the slightest extension of his index finger, a silent command whispered to the air itself.
From its stand inside the pavilion, a sword hummed. Not the deep resonance of a heavy blade, but the keen, high-pitched shiver of something lethally sharp and impossibly light. The blade was slender like captured moonlight on ice and the hilt wrapped in silver wire. It shot from its scabbard with the speed of a striking viper, a streak of cold silver light slicing through the open doorway past Li Chen, and down towards the shivering figure on the rock.
It wasn't aimed to kill. Not yet, but it is a warning shot. To gauge reaction, intent and capability.
Lu Hua saw the glint. Not consciously, not with her waterlogged brain still screaming about hypothermia and lost smartphones. It was pure, animal instinct, honed by a lifetime of dodging scooters in crowded streets, catching falling objects, the split-second reactions of modern chaos.
The air screamed where the sword tip would have pierced her shoulder. Instead, she was no longer there. In a desperate, scrambling lurch fueled by adrenaline and terror, she threw herself sideways, tumbling off the flat rock and back into the shallow, icy water at its edge with a graceless splash. The sword struck the empty stone where her shoulder had been a heartbeat before, embedding itself with a sharp chink, vibrating with a surprised, dissonant hum.
Silence crashed back, heavier than before. The only sounds were Lu Hua's frantic splashing as she scrambled back from the sword, her breath coming in terrified hitches, and the low, fading thrum of the embedded blade.
High above on the balcony, Master Li Chen remained perfectly still. But the glacial calm in his silver eyes had fractured, replaced by a profound unprecedented shock. His brows, usually smooth as snow-laden branches, drew together infinitesimally.
She hadn't felt the sword coming. He was certain. He'd sensed no surge of defensive Qi, no precognitive awareness. He'd felt only raw, untamed panic radiating from her moments before. Yet... she'd moved. Not with cultivated grace, but with a desperate, instinctive speed that had somehow anticipated the trajectory of Jade Cicada - his spirit-bonded blade, faster than thought.
Impossible. Utterly impossible for an "untrained", waterlogged girl who cursed like a dockworker.
Lu Hua stared up, water streaming from her hair, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. She finally saw him. The man on the balcony. Tall, imposing, radiating an aura of terrifying stillness. Hair like moonlight. Eyes like frozen mercury. And a sword... he'd just thrown a sword at her!
"Hey! What the hell, dude?" she yelled, her voice shaky but laced with indignant fury, the absurdity momentarily overriding the terror. "I almost drowned! What kind of psycho throws swords at drowning people?"
Master Li Chen tilted his head, the shock in his eyes receded, replaced by intense, analytical scrutiny. The impossible dodge echoed in the silence between them, louder than her shouted accusation. Who was this strange, water-sprite of a girl who appeared from the depths and defied the laws of cultivation with mere instinct?
He didn't speak. He simply watched.
Lu Hua's indignant fury warred with bone-deep cold and burgeoning confusion. She pushed sodden hair out of her eyes, blinking water droplets away, and finally looked past the terrifyingly handsome, sword-throwing lunatic on the balcony.
Her breath hitched again, but this time for a different reason.
Emerald Mist Lake was gone. The familiar weeping willows, the wooden pier, the distant city skyline - vanished. Instead, she was sprawled on slick, dark rocks bordering a pool that seemed carved from obsidian, reflecting the bruised purple and deepening indigo of a twilight sky she didn't recognize. Towering structures of dark, aged wood and pale stone rose around her in impossible, elegant sweeps - tiered pagodas with swooping roofs adorned with mythical beasts, arched bridges spanning misty chasms, pathways winding through meticulously sculpted gardens glowing with unfamiliar, softly luminous plants. The air hummed with a profound silence, broken only by the distant chime of a deep bell and the rustle of... giant bamboo? Lanterns, not electric but flickering with actual flames, cast long, dancing shadows. The architecture screamed ancient China, but not the kind you visited on a tour.
"Where... where is this?" she whispered, the fight momentarily draining out of her, replaced by a dizzying wave of disorientation. "Is this... some kind of theme park? Afterlife?" She shivered violently, her wet clothes like icy shackles.
A soft whisper of silk against stone. Lu Hua's head snapped back up. The white-haired man was no longer on the balcony. He stood on the rocks a few paces away, having descended with a silence and grace that defied physics. He hadn't jumped; he seemed to have simply materialized. He observed her, his silver eyes scanning her face, her strange attire, her shivering form with detached intensity. The initial shock she'd glimpsed was gone, replaced by an unnerving calm. He didn't radiate immediate menace anymore, just... profound, unreadable scrutiny. He sensed no Qi, no hidden power radiating from her, only raw confusion and cold.
He took a single, deliberate step closer. "Who are you?" His voice was low, resonant, like deep water flowing over smooth stones. It held no anger, only pure, commanding inquiry.
"Lu Hua," she stammered automatically, still trying to process her surroundings. "My name is Lu Hua." Her teeth chattered. "Look, mister, I don't know what's going on. I was just taking a selfie by Emerald Mist Lake, I fell in, and then..." She gestured helplessly at the impossible vista around her. "This. I don't remember any place like this near the lake. Seriously, where did they build this? It looks crazy expensive." Her modern slang sounded jarringly out of place amidst the ancient grandeur.
As she spoke, her gaze, drawn inevitably back to him, lingered on his face. The moonlight caught the sharp lines of his jaw, the elegant sweep of his snow-white eyebrows, the unnerving clarity of those silver eyes. Despite the terror and confusion, a completely inappropriate, half-hysterical thought bubbled up. "Wow," she breathed, the word escaping before she could stop it. A giggle, tinged with nerves and disbelief, followed. "Seriously, dude? You look like you walked straight out of a... a historical drama. Or a really intense cosplay event. That hair... that face..." She trailed off, shaking her head as if trying to clear waterlogged nonsense. "Unreal."
Master Li Chen remained impassive, though a flicker of incomprehension passed through his eyes at the words "selfie," "cosplay," and "dude." Her reaction was as bizarre as her appearance. Fear, yes, but also this... irreverence? This bizarre commentary on his appearance? He had been called many things - Master, Honored One, - but "dude" and "handsome" in such a flippant tone were unprecedented.
Lu Hua suddenly straightened, a new wave of violent shivering wracking her frame. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself, her wet tunic offering no warmth. The absurdity of complimenting her attempted murderer warred with the immediate, desperate need to not freeze to death. Her eyes, wide and still slightly dazed, locked onto his with startling directness.
"Aren't you gonna, like, do something?" she demanded, her voice rising with a mixture of accusation and sheer, cold-induced misery. She gestured at her dripping form. "You throw swords, you stand around looking like an ice sculpture... but are you just gonna let me freeze into a Lu-Hua-sicle right here? After you dragged me out of your fancy koi pond?" The logic was flawed, but the urgency was real. Her lips were starting to turn blue.
Master Li Chen stared at her. The calm analytical detachment seemed to waver for a fraction of a second, confronted by the sheer, illogical, shivering audacity of this dripping girl who appeared from nowhere, dodged Jade Cicada, insulted his sacred pool, called him handsome, and now demanded he alleviate her discomfort.
Without a word, his hand moved again. Not towards a weapon this time. With a fluid motion, he unfastened the outermost layer of his robes - a long, heavy garment of pristine, silver-threaded white silk. He held it out towards her, the fine fabric shimmering faintly even in the dim light.
Lu Hua stared at the offered robe, then back at his impassive face. Hesitation warred with desperation. It looked warm. So warm. With a choked sound that was half sob, half whimper, she scrambled forward on her knees, her water-numbed fingers fumbling as she snatched the robe from his hand, almost yanking it.
She didn't say thank you. She just huddled into the impossibly soft, blessedly dry silk, pulling it tightly around her shaking shoulders. The residual warmth from his body seeped into her, a stark, almost shocking contrast to the lake's chill. It smelled faintly of frost and something else... clean, sharp, like ozone after lightning. She buried her nose in the fabric, trembling violently, the enormity of her situation crashing over her again, momentarily held at bay by the simple, vital comfort of warmth.
★
Lu Hua huddled deeper into the impossibly soft folds of Master Li Chen's robe, the residual warmth from his body a stark, vital contrast to the deep chill still seeping from her own bones. The immediate terror had subsided, replaced by a profound, shivering bewilderment. She was sitting on the cold, damp rock beside the obsidian-like pool, the unnatural beauty of the academy grounds surrounding her like a dreamscape she couldn't wake from.
Her fingers, still stiff and cold, fumbled in the pocket of her sodden leggings. The phone. With a surge of desperate hope, she pulled out the garish pink otter case. Maybe... just maybe... waterproofing had worked a miracle. Maybe she could call someone. Anyone. Explain this insane theme park mix-up.
She wiped the screen frantically on the dry silk robe. Pressed the power button. Nothing. Held it down longer. Still nothing. She shook it gently, tapped it against her knee, whispered frantic pleas. The black rectangle remained stubbornly, accusingly inert.
"Ugh! No! Come on!" she whined, her voice thick with frustration and encroaching tears of helplessness. She held the dead phone out in front of her, shaking it slightly. "Don't do this to me now! I just paid it off! Stupid lake! Stupid selfie! Stupid... everything!" She let her head drop forward, hiding her face in the robe's collar, and let out a theatrical, utterly fake sob. "My life is over!!!"
The faint scent of frost and ozone preceded him. Lu Hua peeked up through damp strands of hair. Master Li Chen stood a few respectful paces away, having approached with that unnerving silence. He held a simple, dark wooden tray bearing a single, steaming celadon cup. The fragrant aroma of warm tea - something floral and earthy - drifted towards her, instantly making her aware of her parched throat.
He didn't comment on her display. His silver eyes, however, were fixed not on her face, but on the object clutched in her hand - the bright pink rectangle she'd been lamenting.
He stepped forward, offering the tray. Lu Hua sniffled dramatically, wiped a non-existent tear, and reached out, her fingers curling gratefully around the warm cup. "Thanks," she mumbled, the word thick. The heat seeped into her palms, another small comfort in this bewildering nightmare. She took a cautious sip. The tea was perfect - hot but not scalding, subtly sweet and calming. She sighed, the genuine tension in her shoulders easing slightly.
Master Li Chen remained standing, his gaze still locked on the phone. "What," he asked, his voice low and measured, "is that object you hold?"
Lu Hua blinked, looking down at her phone as if seeing it for the first time. "This? It's my phone," she said, holding it up. She tapped the black screen again, fruitlessly. "Well, was my phone. Now it's a very expensive brick."
He tilted his head, a minute gesture of profound incomprehension. The word meant nothing. "Fone?" he repeated, the unfamiliar syllable sounding strange in his resonant voice. "What is its function?"
Lu Hua stared at him, the warmth of the tea momentarily forgotten. He wasn't joking. The utter lack of recognition in those pale eyes was absolute. "Function? It... does everything?" she said, bewildered. "Calls, texts, internet, games, music, maps... selfies! You seriously don't know what a phone is?" The concept seemed as alien to him as his sword-throwing was to her.
"No," he stated simply, without a trace of embarrassment. "I do not."
Lu Hua scratched her head, damp hair tangling around her fingers. Maybe he's just some super remote rural guy? Living way off the grid? That would explain the robes, the sword, the lack of basic tech knowledge... and maybe even the weirdly perfect architecture? A very dedicated historical reenactor community? The theory felt flimsy, absurd even, but it was the only anchor she had in the sea of her confusion. "Right... okay," she mumbled, taking another long sip of tea, letting the warmth ground her.
A slightly less awkward silence fell. "So," she ventured, setting the cup down carefully on the rock beside her. "Thanks again. For the tea. And... not letting me freeze. I guess." She paused. "I told you my name. Lu Hua. What's yours?"
He regarded her for a moment, those silver eyes assessing. "Li Chen," he stated. No titles. Just the name.
"Li Chen," Lu Hua repeated, testing the syllables. She nodded.
"Alright, Li Chen." Trying to inject some normalcy, some semblance of polite interaction, Lu Hua pushed herself up slightly. She extended her right hand towards him, palm open, in a gesture as natural to her as breathing. "Nice to meet you. Properly, this time. Without the, you know... impalement attempt."
Li Chen didn't move. His gaze dropped to her outstretched hand. He stared at it as if it were a venomous serpent coiled to strike. His expression didn't change - no frown, no scowl - but his absolute stillness radiated profound confusion and wariness. What was this gesture? An attack? A bizarre ritual? An offering? He remained rooted, his hands clasped loosely behind his back, his posture radiating an unbreachable distance.
Lu Hua held her hand out for a few heartbeats, the silence stretching. She felt a flush creep up her neck. Right. Maybe handshakes weren't a thing here. Or maybe touching the scary sword master was forbidden. "Oookay then," she muttered, her voice tight with embarrassment. She quickly retracted her hand, letting it fall back into her lap, fiddling with the edge of the oversized robe. "Guess not."