The golden hues of the setting sun bathed the entire Azure Frost Sect in warm light. Spring had begun to fully blossom, painting the sky in soft amber and the cherry blossoms in the eastern courtyard a rich, vibrant pink. Petals floated lazily in the air, carried by the gentle breeze. It was beautiful—almost suspiciously so.
Wang Li stood awkwardly in the courtyard, clutching a bamboo scroll in one hand and frowning at its contents. "So I'm really on the list for the Peach Blossom Duel," he muttered.
Beside him, Mu Qingling was doubled over with laughter. "You? Participating in a sect tradition meant for engaged or feuding couples? That's—oh heavens, that's priceless."
He groaned. "It's not funny. Someone signed me up without my consent. I don't even know who my opponent is!"
"I do," came a soft, dangerously familiar voice behind him.
Wang Li turned slowly to see Feng Yuling standing under the peach trees, dressed in a flowing icy blue robe that shimmered in the fading sunlight. Her hair was pinned up with silver frostpins, and a rare, mischievous smile tugged at her lips.
"Yuling?" Wang Li blinked. "You?!"
She arched an elegant brow. "Surprised?"
Mu Qingling raised her hands in mock surrender. "Oh, I am not missing this."
"Wait, wait," Wang Li said, backing up a step. "The Peach Blossom Duel is symbolic, right? It's usually for lovers who've broken up or—"
"—or for those settling unresolved tension," Feng Yuling said smoothly. "I think we fit the criteria."
He winced. "We didn't exactly break up. We just… stopped talking after you tried to freeze me during that sparring session."
"You dodged the last strike." She stepped closer, a frostflake forming on her fingertip. "I never got closure."
Wang Li laughed nervously. "You nearly encased me in ice!"
"And yet you're here. Breathing. Stronger." Her tone was even, but there was a faint playfulness in her eyes. "You're not getting out of this, Wang Li. Not today."
"Why do I feel like this is revenge dressed as romance?"
"Because it is," she said sweetly.
Before he could protest, the sect's ceremonial bell rang in the distance, signaling the start of the duel.
Within minutes, the eastern arena was abuzz with disciples. Word had spread fast: Wang Li, the now-infamous rising star with too many ex-girlfriends, was set to duel the Ice Princess herself. Naturally, it had attracted a crowd.
Wang Li walked into the arena, feeling very much like a lamb thrown into a peach blossom-scented lion's den. Feng Yuling stood across from him, her frost qi already swirling faintly around her robes.
Sect Elder Jian, who always looked like he desperately needed a nap and some tea, was acting as referee. "This duel," he yawned, "is symbolic. No lethal techniques. Winner gets… emotional catharsis, I guess. Begin."
The moment the words left his mouth, frost coiled around Feng Yuling's fingers.
"You're not really going to blast me, are you?" Wang Li asked, drawing his Shadowfang dagger and preparing his defensive stance.
"I'm going to test if you're finally worthy of standing beside me," she replied.
The duel began in a flurry of ice and shadow. Feng Yuling moved with terrifying precision, her frost arts blooming into elegant petals of ice, each aimed with surgical intent. Wang Li weaved between them, using agility and short-range teleportation to avoid the worst of the attacks.
"You're holding back," she accused mid-duel, her breath frosting the air.
"Because you're my ex-girlfriend, not an enemy!"
"Fight like someone who's trying to win me back," she shouted, sending a spike of ice toward his feet.
Wang Li deflected it, then disappeared and reappeared behind her, launching a palm strike that sent her skidding backward—though she grinned as if he'd just complimented her outfit.
The duel raged on for several minutes, a beautiful dance of elements and emotion. Every clash was charged not only with spiritual energy, but with memories—old wounds, unspoken words, and perhaps… lingering feelings.
Eventually, both of them stood panting in the center of the ring, the arena carpeted with shattered ice and scorched petals.
"I yield," Feng Yuling said suddenly.
Wang Li blinked. "What?"
"You heard me. I yield. I got my closure."
"That's it? You're done?"
She walked closer, close enough that he could feel the chill of her spiritual energy mixing with the warmth of his body heat. "You've changed, Wang Li. Stronger. Smarter. Less of an idiot."
"I try."
"I still don't like you," she said.
"But?"
"But…" She looked away, a soft pink rising to her cheeks. "I wouldn't mind giving things another try. If you impress me again."
He blinked. "You mean like… date again?"
"Don't push your luck," she snapped, then turned gracefully and exited the arena—leaving a very dazed Wang Li standing amid the wreckage.
The crowd erupted into cheers, laughter, and far too many romantic sighs. Mu Qingling appeared at his side moments later, clapping him on the back.
"You are so in trouble."
"I don't even know what just happened."
"She's thawing. Slowly. Like an ice phoenix."
"Is that good?"
"For your romantic prospects? Maybe. For your sanity?" She laughed. "Probably not."
That night, after the chaos of the duel died down, Wang Li returned to his courtyard, sore but oddly light-hearted.
He lit a small lantern, sat under the blooming peach tree outside his room, and sighed.
Then a soft cough interrupted his thoughts.
"Wang Li?" came a voice he hadn't expected.
He turned to see Lin Ruoyan standing there, holding a picnic basket. Her fiery red hair was tied into a casual bun, and she wore a plain pale dress—simple, but more intimate than her usual sect robes.
"I figured you could use some company," she said, holding up the basket.
"You brought food?"
She smiled. "And wine."
They sat under the tree, eating quietly for a while. The moon had risen now, casting silver shadows across the courtyard.
"You were amazing today," Lin Ruoyan said after a while. "I saw it all."
"I felt like a clown in a drama written by fate."
"Maybe. But you kept your composure. And you fought with heart."
He chuckled. "You know… you're not so scary when you're not threatening to beat me senseless."
"I'm only scary because I care."
Wang Li looked at her, genuinely surprised. "That almost sounded… affectionate."
"I'm practicing," she said, looking up at the moon. "In case I ever decide to stop pretending I don't like you."
He turned to her, heart skipping. "So there's still a chance?"
Lin Ruoyan's lips curled in a teasing smile. "Maybe. But only if you survive whatever chaos is waiting tomorrow."
He groaned. "Why is it never simple?"
"Because you have too many ex-girlfriends," she replied sweetly, sipping her wine.
And under that moonlit sky, with the petals drifting around them and the scent of roasted duck and plum wine lingering in the air, Wang Li couldn't help but laugh.
For once, chaos had brought a little warmth.