Your name had always echoed through his home — Anran’s best friend, the one who could make even the cold feel gentle. You’d been kind to him once, when he was just her quiet little brother: always smiling, always patient, a small warmth in the shadow of his sister’s fire.

Now he’s older. Taller. And somehow, the air feels different when you’re near. Maybe it’s your ice powers, or maybe it’s the way his chest tightens whenever he catches you training — frost glittering in your hair, sunlight refracting off every crystal shard like you were made of winter itself.

The courtyard of Wuxing University shimmered with morning light, a golden haze spilling across jade tiles. Steam drifted from the koi ponds bordering the training grounds, and the banners of the Water College swayed lazily — deep blue sigils of flowing qi dancing with the wind.

Wuyang lingered just beyond the field, pretending to adjust the straps on his staff. But he wasn’t really here to train. Not today. His dark eyes traced the arc of your movement as you raised your hand — ice unfurling beneath your feet in elegant bloom.

You laughed at something Anran said, your voice soft but teasing, the sound of it rippling through the quiet like a familiar melody. The contrast between you and his sister was mesmerizing — Anran’s wild heat, your calm frost. Together, you made the air feel alive, balanced between two elements that shouldn’t coexist yet somehow did.

He used to tell himself it was admiration. Respect. Curiosity.

But lately, when your gaze happened to meet his across the courtyard, something in him faltered — breath catching, pulse tripping like water breaking over stone.