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In the dappled shadows of the forest, a silent duel seemed to unfold. The girl, her stance firm and her grip on the iron sword unyielding, eyed the boy who had breached the sanctity of her secret haven. The weapon's tip, a mere breath from Y/N's heart, seemed to question his very presence.
"Who are you?" she asked, her tone edged with the sharpness of her blade, demanding an identity for the intruder.
Y/N, his own heart beating a rapid tattoo against his ribs, raised his hands in a gesture of peace. "I... I'm Y/N. I didn't mean to—"
His words trailed off as he saw something flicker in the girl's eyes. Not fear, but a calculation, as if she were reading his intentions through the windows of his soul.
There was a beat, a moment where she seemed to study him, dissecting his intentions with a warrior's scrutiny. Yet, what struck her wasn't the potential of threat, but rather the absence of it. His gaze held a certain innocence, an admiration not of her weapon, but of her command over it.
"I'm not looking for trouble," Y/N continued, interrupting her reverie. "I just heard the sound of... training?"
Her sword lowered fractionally, a subtle shift in her defensive posture. "Training, yes," she acknowledged, the suspicion in her voice easing into curiosity. "An accident, then, that you find yourself here?"
"A chance, or perhaps misfortune," Y/N quipped, trying to smile, but the tension still hung heavy between them.
The girl's heart, often shrouded in the solitude of her rebellion, felt an unexpected warmth. Here was a stranger, who instead of challenging her presence or questioning her choices, simply admired them. It was a novel, warming sensation, and it flickered within her like the first spark of a welcoming fire on a cold night.
In her silent moments away from the standoff, memories would surface — her mother's voice chiding gently, "Ladies of our stature do not behave in such ways." The old tales spun images of demure elegance, not the gritty reality of steel and sweat that she embraced in these woods. She was the antithesis of the protagonists in those stories, her essence more akin to the fierce warriors they whispered about in awe.
When she had found the sword, its blade pierced into the ground as if it had been awaiting her claim, something ignited within her. That metal, cold and unyielding, had become her silent mentor. It taught her about resistance, about the weight of decisions, about the balance between force and grace.
"I train here because the trees do not judge," she finally said, her gaze less piercing now, yet still fixed on Y/N. "They do not pester me with duties and decorum."
Her training had been a solitary affair, each day's end marked by the notches of progress on her makeshift wooden targets. But solitude had not eased the hunger for something more, a yearning whisper that grew louder with each passing day, each swing of her sword.
Y/N nodded, understanding more than she realized. "The trees make for good company," he replied, "but they're not much for conversation."
The girl's lips twitched, almost smiling. "I suppose not."
The sunlight seemed to bless this newfound understanding, weaving golden threads between them, too subtle to be seen yet felt in a quiet kinship. With a movement as deliberate as a ceasefire, the girl sheathed her sword, her eyes still locked on Y/N's.
"My name is Jingliu," she introduced herself, her voice carrying the subtlest hint of an invitation, like an unseen thread pulling them into an orbit of trust.
Relief washed over Y/N, and he repeated her name, "Jingliu," a word that seemed to seal the truce between them, tethering his fate to hers with a gentle but resolute knot.
Perhaps it was the genuine admiration in Y/N's eyes, devoid of the usual skepticism or lust for control, that disarmed her. Or maybe, in the back of her mind, she recognized the need for an ally, for someone to share in the journey she had embarked upon alone.
"Would it be too much to ask to join your training?" Y/N's question was tentative, but his desire to learn, to be part of her world, was evident.
Jingliu weighed his request, sensing the earnestness that radiated from him. This boy, Y/N, was a tapestry of openness and sincerity, his intentions as clear as the forest stream. She saw no deceit, only an unspoken bond formed by mutual respect and, strangely, a sense of kinship.
"Train with me, then," Jingliu decided, her voice no longer commanding, but welcoming. "Perhaps we can both discover strength in this partnership."
The air, once filled with the tension of uncertain allegiances, now settled into a comfortable calm. They stood together, two kindred spirits against the world's expectations, bound by the silent promise to forge a new path — not as lone warriors, but as comrades in arms.
"GROWLLL"
The stillness of the forest was punctuated by an unexpected sound, a deep, resonant growl that seemed almost to belong to the wilderness itself. But as both Y/N and Jingliu froze, it became apparent that the source was far less threatening—it was the grumbling of an empty stomach.
Jingliu's cheeks flamed with embarrassment, the flush spreading as quickly as wildfire in the dry season. Y/N regarded her with an expression that hovered between amusement and sympathy.
"..."
"..."
Breaking the silence, Y/N's voice held a hint of jest, "Haven't eaten, have you?"
Turning her head, Jingliu muttered a shy affirmation, her voice so soft it was nearly swallowed by the rustling leaves around them.
Y/N facepalmed lightly before extending a solution. "Come with me, I'll get you food."
Jingliu, her pride momentarily overshadowed by the pressing concern of her hunger, meekly fell into step behind him.
The path from the forest clearing to the edge of the woods was marked by the sound of their footsteps and the occasional bird call. Y/N led confidently, while Jingliu lingered a pace behind, her steps slower, laden with the weight of embarrassment.
Noticing her hesitation, Y/N paused, turning to look at Jingliu with concern. She mirrored his halt, confusion etched across her features. "Why did you stop?" she asked, the words hanging between them.
Without a word, Y/N closed the distance between them and reached for her hand. His grip was gentle but firm, an unspoken assurance of camaraderie. Jingliu's heart skipped, her words tangling into incoherence. "Th-this is an invasion of personal space!" she protested, but her voice lacked conviction.
Internally, she was a storm of emotions, a jumble of traditions and sudden, unfamiliar excitement. The contact of their hands was an uncharted territory, an innocent touch that sent ripples through the still waters of her life. Her mind raced with the shock of the new experience; she had never been this close to anyone outside her family, let alone a boy.
Y/N, naive to the implications of his gesture and to the customs of touching between men and women, simply smiled and tugged lightly. "This way, we won't lose each other, and we'll get there faster," he explained, oblivious to the inner turmoil he'd ignited.
And so, led by the hand through the last of the trees, Jingliu was ushered into a new world, her confusion and embarrassment slowly giving way to a quiet sense of trust. As the familiar sights of the city came into view, and the aromas of cooking food wafted toward them, the promise of a warm meal seemed to mend the embarrassment she felt, weaving it into the threads of a newfound friendship.
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The city was a living tapestry, each thread a stream of vibrant life against the canvas of dawn. Buildings cloaked in the warmth of ochre and russet rose up as silent sentinels, their windows glinting like jewels set in ancient crowns. At their feet, the cobbled streets whispered of centuries passed, each stone smoothed by the tread of countless sojourners. The early morning light cast an ethereal glow, bathing everything in a soft golden hue as if the city itself was dipped in honeyed sunlight.
Jingliu's gaze swept across the spectacle, her red eyes catching the luminous dance of lights that hovered around traditional lanterns, their amber flicker reflecting off the rippling water of the canal. The mirror-like surface of the waterway captured the sky's transition, from the blush of sunrise to the creeping azure of twilight, and now, to the impending slate-gray of a rain-heavy sky.
Y/N noted the way the sky darkened, a subtle symphony of hues weaving through the clouds, heralding the approach of rain. The air turned brisk, the previously still atmosphere now trembling with the silent promise of a downpour. The city, in its anticipatory pause, seemed to hold its breath.
Within minutes, they arrived at his aunt's restaurant. The establishment stood proudly, its architecture a harmonious blend of tradition and welcoming charm. The large, wooden double doors were thrown open, inviting the rare passerby to take refuge from the coming rain. It was quieter now, the morning rush dissolved like mist as the locals dispersed to engage in the day's labors.
As they stepped into the tranquil ambiance of the restaurant, his aunt's voice cut through the quiet, "Y/N!" Her tone was a melody of affection and surprise. But as her eyes flickered to the figure beside him, the melody hitched. Jingliu, with her ethereal pale blue hair that seemed to capture the serene light of dawn, stood out like a lighthouse in fog.
Her eyes, those twin pools of crimson, met the older woman's gaze, and in that moment, time seemed to freeze. The aunt's eyes widened, not with shock but with a profound realization—the kind that etches itself into memory, indelible and deep. There stood her nephew, his hand clasped in that of a girl's, a girl who appeared unbothered, even comfortable with the contact.
"Good morning, Aunty," Y/N greeted, his words slightly hesitant as he felt the weight of her stare.
"A good morning indeed!" The mentioned aunt's voice rose in a crescendo of delight. "But who is this little one with you?" Her eyes sparkled, mischievous and probing as they took in Jingliu's unique appearance.
Jingliu offered a polite bow, her pale blue hair cascading like a silent waterfall. "I am called Jingliu," she said, her voice a soft chime amidst the growing thrum of an impending rainstorm outside.
The restaurant owner clapped her hands together, the sound crisp and decisive. "Oh, what a lovely name! And those eyes, my dear—red as the most exquisite ruby!" She leaned in closer, her curiosity as palpable as the electric charge in the air before a storm.
Y/N shifted uncomfortably, feeling the tremor of unease that the older woman's intense scrutiny brought. He caught Jingliu's glance, a silent conversation passing between them—one of caution and a mutual decision to remain guarded.
Y/N's aunt, undeterred by their silence, chuckled—a sound that seemed to stir the very air around them. "Well, I never thought I'd see the day my nephew would bring such an enigmatic guest. Tell me, Y/N, where did you find such a rarity?"
Y/N cleared his throat, searching for a response that would satisfy his aunt's burgeoning curiosity without revealing too much. "We met... through unexpected circumstances, Aunty."
"Unexpected circumstances," she repeated, drawing out the words with a playful lilt. "And holding hands, are we?" She nodded towards their interlocked fingers, her eyes dancing with untold stories she was already crafting in her head.
Jingliu's cheeks flushed a delicate shade of pink, a stark contrast to her striking hair and eyes. "It's a gesture of friendship," she offered, her voice steady despite the obvious attention.
"Friendship, of course!" The older woman's laughter was full of warmth and something bordering on affectionate teasing. "Well, I'll be sure to remember that when I tell of this day. My nephew and his mysterious friend, bonded by fate and rain!"
She ushered them further into the restaurant, her energy as vibrant as the lights that illuminated the establishment. "Now, come in! You must be hungry. And I want to hear everything—over breakfast, of course!"
Y/N and Jingliu exchanged another glance, this time a shared resignation to the inevitable storytelling that awaited them. The rain began to tap against the windows, a rhythmic accompaniment to the new chapter they were about to unfold together.
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In the quiet confines of the small dining area, Y/N and Jingliu sat opposite each other, each ensnared in a web of silent thoughts. The air was thick with unvoiced questions and untraveled paths of conversation. Y/N berated himself inwardly for his lack of foresight—this impromptu breakfast was turning into a theater of awkward pauses. Jingliu, with her stoic veneer barely concealing a storm of contemplation, debated whether to inquire into Y/N's life. Yet propriety held her back; they were practically strangers, after all.
Their introspection was delicately shattered by the arrival of Y/N's aunt, carrying trays laden with an assortment of light breakfast dishes. Y/N's face lit up at the sight; his appetite was a beast with an insatiable hunger, always ready for a second round. Jingliu's reaction was more reserved. She eyed the food with a noblewoman's caution, her upbringing clashing with the practical needs of her warrior's existence.
Sensing the young lady's hesitation, the restaurant owner—aunt to Y/N—offered a comforting nudge. "Go on, dear. A body like yours, trained for the sword, needs a hearty meal to start the day," she said with a knowing smile.
Y/N, meanwhile, had transformed into a portrait of innocent indulgence, devouring his meal with the enthusiasm of a child. Jingliu, surprised by the aunt's perceptiveness, cautiously lifted her chopsticks. She was greeted by a burst of flavor that was both exquisite and foreign, rich in a way that her usual delicate fare never was.
Amused by the scene, the aunt took a seat beside her nephew, who was now halfway through his dish. She broke the silence with an impish query, her voice cutting through the clatter of Y/N's less-than-stellar table manners. "So, Y/N, how exactly did you come across this fine maiden?"
The question caught Y/N off guard, causing him to choke on his food, while Jingliu froze, her chopsticks hovering mid-air. "Maiden?!" she echoed, the word tasting strange and intimate.
Y/N, still recovering from his coughing fit, was equally baffled. "Maiden? I thought that was a term for... you know, girlfriends and... love!" he replied, his tone dripping with unintended innocence.
A blush crept over Jingliu's cheeks at his words, while the aunt's smile stretched wider, delighted by the undercurrents of drama at her table. The older woman was in her element, fishing for tales and tidbits.
Jingliu's eyes pleaded with Y/N, her expression a mix of a warning and a silent plea for discretion. He caught the hint, recognizing the expression that mirrored his mother's when she was on the verge of extracting secrets. Choosing to spare Jingliu any further discomfort, Y/N recounted the story of their chance encounter earlier that morning, carefully curating the details to keep their privacy intact.
As Y/N spoke, the aunt's eyes twinkled with mischief, Jingliu's shoulders relaxed, and the room once again filled with the gentle sounds of a morning meal being enjoyed.
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Under the now serene sky, the trio lingered at the restaurant's entrance. The remnants of the storm lingered only as a gentle mist that whispered through the air. Y/N patted his full stomach with a flourish, eliciting a soft chuckle from Jingliu. "I think I've eaten enough for two warriors," he boasted playfully, his voice resonant with satisfaction.
Jingliu's lips curled into a rare smile, her usual reserve melting away in the warmth of the moment. "The food was excellent," she admitted, the light in her eyes reflecting her inner contentment. "And the company was... not as dreadful as I would've thought."
The aunt, her face a map of laugh lines and good humor, watched the exchange with a twinkle in her eye. "You kids are always welcome here," she announced with a heartfelt generosity. "Don't you worry about me. My pot's been full for a long while."
The girl, taken aback by such kindness, couldn't help but voice a concern that this could be a costly gesture. "Hm? Isn't that a bit much?" she asked, her forehead creased with worry. "You could lose profit because of us."
The aunt waved off the concern with a hearty laugh that seemed to vibrate through the room. "My dear, I've got enough to feed an army and then some. My wealth is like a river that flows on, long after I've taken my last breath," she said, her voice imbued with a robust confidence.
Jingliu's thoughtful gaze fell upon the aunt, then shifted to Y/N—his typically carefree demeanor now seen through a new lens of introspection. The reminder of their promised training session lingered between them, stirring a mix of excitement and determination within her.
As if nudged by an unspoken cue, Y/N mumbled his farewells to his aunt in a hurried, almost frantic manner, his anticipation for the day's plans evident in his voice. He then hurriedly gathered his things, his usual levity returning. "We should get going. Training awaits!" he exclaimed, the eagerness clear in his voice.
The aunt's laughter followed them out. "You two make sure to have fun on your little 'dates'," she teased, her voice rich with mirth, rang out with a rich, hearty laugh that left Y/N and Jingliu groaning in shared embarrassment as they exited the restaurant.
"Oh, Auntie, please!" Y/N groaned, his cheeks tinged with red, while Jingliu merely shook her head, a ghost of a smile still playing on her lips.
Their steps in sync, they traversed the now familiar path with a silence that was comfortable yet charged with the morning's revelations. When Y/N inquired about the earlier mention of sword training, Jingliu simply instructed him to return to the forest where they met earlier.
With the speed and grace of a deer, Jingliu dashed ahead, leaving Y/N trailing in her wake. His determination fueled his legs, propelling him forward until the familiar woods enveloped them once more. "So, what's the plan?" Y/N panted, barely catching his breath.
Without a word, Jingliu snapped a branch from an overhead limb, its length and heft resembling that of a sword. She tossed it to Y/N with an effortless flick of her wrist, arming herself with a similar wooden blade. "We spar," she declared, her voice as steady as her stance. "I want to see your instincts."
Y/N juggled the makeshift sword awkwardly, its balance foreign in his untrained hands. "You sure we shouldn't, like, warm up first? Do some drills?" he half-joked, trying to mask his nervousness with humor.
Jingliu's response was immediate, her branch slicing through the air towards him. "I prefer direct action," she stated flatly.
The first clash sent a jolt through Y/N's arms, his block more accidental than skillful. "Hey, hey, take it easy!" he yelped, stumbling back.
Her next move was a swift, angled descent aimed at his left. Y/N managed to raise his branch in time, but the strike was strong enough to make him wince and lose balance. As he hit the ground, the impact drove a puff of breath from his lungs.
Jingliu loomed above him, her expression softening for a moment. "Enough," she said, her tone carrying a subtle edge of concern. "You lack experience." Yes, Jingliu, we know that.
Y/N propped himself up on his elbows, a mix of surprise and disappointment crossing his face. "But we just started," he protested, his voice a blend of confusion and a faint quiver of pride.
"You're hasty, yet you instinctively guard. You have potential," Jingliu analyzed, watching him closely. "However, a traditional sword may not be suited for you." The words hung heavy, a challenge to his burgeoning identity as a warrior.
The sting of her assessment was palpable, and Y/N felt it keenly. "What? I can't use a sword?" he asked, his eyes moistening, his voice trembling just enough to betray his emotions.
Jingliu's eyes widened a fraction at the sight of his distress. She quickly clarified, her voice gentle but firm, "No, I mean that maybe a lightsword, or shortswords, aren't right for you. There's a weapon out there that will feel like an extension of yourself. We just need to find it."
His spirits rallied at her reassurance, and Y/N got to his feet, dirt clinging to his clothes—a physical testament to his first fall, but not his last. "Alright, I'll take that challenge," he said, a newfound resolve kindling in his gaze.
Together, they stood amidst the whispers of the forest, the story of their intertwined journey unwinding before them, each step, each fall, a narrative in the making.
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End of Chapter