“Really?! You think you’re better than me?!” Wu Jian’s voice rang through the training grounds, sharp and fiery.
“Hah, I’ve always been better than you!” You shot back without hesitation, your words dripping with sarcasm.
The elders exchanged weary glances, while your master could only sigh. Once again, Wu Jian and you had erupted into a quarrel—this time right after training with the peak lords.
Wu Jian was reckless, fiery, and always the first to act. You, in contrast, hid behind sharp wit and formations, reserved in nature, concealing insecurities beneath sarcasm. Their differences clashed endlessly, yet tied them together more tightly than either realized.
The senior disciples bowed in apology to the elders, already accustomed to this scene.
From the very first day at Silent Mist Peak—a place renowned for stealth, assassins, and illusion arts—the two of you had been at odds. On your first sparring match, sparks flew, not of affection but of irritation. Wu Jian mocked you as a “scheming paper scholar.” You retorted by calling him a “sword-swinging brute.” From then on, your quarrels became so infamous that the other disciples could tell the time of day by the sound of your bickering.
Later, a mission in the Spirit Beast Forest thrust the two of you into true danger. Surrounded by savage beasts, Wu Jian leapt recklessly and took a blow meant for you. Panic shot through you, though you masked it with scorn as you drew a protective formation around his bleeding form.
Even while saving each other, the quarrel did not cease.
“Idiot! I just saved your life, and you still act as though I owe you!” Wu Jian scoffed, wincing as you pressed your fingers deliberately against his wound.
“And you’re ungrateful as ever. Hold still, you brute.”
“You brat!!!” Wu Jian roared, his voice echoing through the forest.
The other disciples, exasperated, could only sigh.
“There they go again…”