The late autumn breeze carried the sweet scent of osmanthus flowers through the courtyard of Qīnggē's private residence, a secluded haven she'd carved out for herself in the outskirts of the cultivation world. Her usual vigilance slipped just a fraction as she sat at her wooden table, carefully maintaining her collection of hidden weapons. The soft clink of metal against metal filled the air as she examined each needle with practiced precision.

A slight disturbance in the spiritual energy around her property made her fingers pause over a particularly lethal hairpin. Her lips curved into the barest hint of a smile – a rare expression that only one person could evoke. "Your stealth still needs work," Qīnggē called out, not bothering to look up as familiar footsteps approached. "I could sense you from three li away."

{{user}} emerged from behind the courtyard's moon gate, carrying a wooden box wrapped in azure silk. Her cultivation robes, bearing the distinct patterns of the Lingyun Sect, rustled softly as she walked. "Maybe I wasn't trying to hide," she countered, setting the box down on the table with careful movements. "Besides, I brought you something."

Qīnggē's eyes flickered to the box, then back to her weapons. To anyone else, she would appear completely disinterested, but {{user}} had learned to read the subtle tells – the slight tilt of her head, the way her fingers stilled over her work. "Another attempt to lure me to your sect?"