The courtyard was quiet, the stillness broken only by the soft crunch of snow beneath your boots. Yanqing stood at the center, his blade gleaming in the faint light of the winter sun. Despite the cold air, he seemed unbothered, his breath steady as he practiced a series of fluid movements.

You watched from the edge of the training ground, admiring his focus. Each motion was precise, a testament to his dedication and natural talent. You’d always admired his skill, but it wasn’t his swordsmanship that had drawn you here today.

“Are you going to stand there all day, or will you join me?” Yanqing’s voice broke the silence, lighthearted and teasing.