He didn’t look up as they entered, but his voice drifted across the courtyard, calm and smooth.

"You brought a guest, Brother Ji’an."

Ji’an stopped. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up.

There was no drop in temperature.

There was no murderous spike in spiritual pressure. The courtyard remained perfectly, pleasantly cool.

Wangchen set the teapot down and looked up. His dark, bottomless eyes swept over Ji’an, lingering on her face for a moment before sliding smoothly over to Gu Zhiwei.

He didn’t glare or sneer at her.

Instead, he offered a polite, incredibly serene, entirely hollow smile.

"Holy Son," Wangchen greeted, his voice an eerie, perfectly modulated baritone. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit to my peak?"

Gu Zhiwei, completely immune to subtext and atmospheric dread, beamed and bowed deeply. "Brother Xie! Brother Lin told me he was coming to see you before he leaves for the Azure Empire, and I wanted to come bid you farewell as well! I am leaving for the southern valleys today!"

"Is that so?" Wangchen murmured. He looked back at Ji’an, gesturing elegantly to the empty cushions across from him. "Please. Sit. The tea is freshly brewed."

Ji’an walked over and sat down, Zhiwei happily plopping down on the cushion beside her.

Ji’an felt... unsettled.

She had expected a reaction. She had expected Wangchen’s eyes to darken with that familiar, possessive irritation the moment he saw Zhiwei. She had braced herself to play peacekeeper.

But Wangchen was acting like the perfect, gracious host.

He poured a third cup of tea and pushed it across the table toward Zhiwei without a single ounce of killing intent.

’He’s... he’s completely normal,’ Ji’an thought, staring at Wangchen’s placid face. ’He isn’t jealous. He isn’t angry. He’s just... chilling.’

Logically, this was the absolute best-case scenario. This was exactly what Ji’an wanted.

The yandere villain had been successfully rehabilitated into a normal, functioning sworn brother.

So why did her chest suddenly feel strangely, uncomfortably tight?

Why did a tiny, irrational, completely illogical part of her brain feel a sudden, sharp pang of dejection?

’What is wrong with me?!’ Ji’an mentally slapped herself, her internal monologue spiraling. ’I should be throwing a parade! He is finally cured! But... he really doesn’t care that I brought another guy to our hangout spot? Does he not care that I’m leaving for a month? Was I the only one overthinking...?!’

"I brought your food," Ji’an said, her voice sounding a little too loud, a little too forced. She pulled the heavy jade stasis box from her spatial ring and set it on the table. "Thirty portions of the pork belly. Thirty portions of the crystal dumplings. Do not eat them all in one week, or I am cutting off your supply."

Wangchen placed his hand gently on the lid of the jade box. His long, pale fingers traced the intricate carvings.

"You are very diligent, Ji’an," Wangchen said softly, meeting her eyes. The smile on his lips was gentle, but his eyes were an impenetrable fortress. "I appreciate your care. I will ration them exactly as you instructed." 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞

He didn’t ask her to stay. He didn’t ask her when she was coming back.

"So, Brother Xie! Are you taking any missions for the Ranking Board?" Zhiwei asked enthusiastically, sipping his tea. "With your Flawless Ice Root, you could easily take the number one spot!"

Wangchen shifted his gaze to the Gu Zhiwei with a skeptical stare.

"I am not participating in the daily missions, Zhiwei," Wangchen replied calmly.

Ji’an frowned, her disappointment momentarily overridden by surprise. "You aren’t? But the Sect Leader said the top ten get to represent the sect at the regional tournament. You’re just going to sit it out?"

"I am not sitting it out," Wangchen corrected, his voice dropping into a slightly lower, more resonant register. He looked back at Ji’an, and for a fraction of a second, the terrifying, absolute intensity she had been missing flickered in the depths of his pupils.

"I am entering Closed-Door Seclusion," Wangchen announced.

The courtyard went quiet. Even Zhiwei lowered his teacup, his golden eyes widening in shock.

Closed-door seclusion was not just any casual meditation retreat.

It was a rigorous, grueling, and highly dangerous process where a cultivator sealed themselves entirely away from the outside world, cutting off all communication and sustenance, surviving solely on spiritual energy to forcefully break through a major cultivation bottleneck.

It could last for months or even years.

"Closed doors?" Ji’an asked, her voice faltering slightly. "For how long?"

"Until the final week of the six-month ranking period," Wangchen stated, his tone absolute. "I do not need to grind mundane missions to prove my worth. When I emerge from seclusion, my cultivation base will be sufficient to challenge the top-ranked disciples directly. I will take my place in the vanguard without wasting my time in the mud."

It was an incredibly arrogant, incredibly badass strategy. It was exactly the kind of overpowered flex a major antagonist would pull.

But to Ji’an, it meant something entirely different.

It meant that for the next six months, she wouldn’t be able to see him. There would be no tea sessions, no bickering over dumplings.

He was locking himself away in a frozen cave, entirely severing their connection until the tournament.

A heavy, suffocating wave of genuine, undeniable sadness washed over Ji’an.

She looked at Wangchen’s perfect, unbothered face. He looked entirely at peace with the decision.

He didn’t look like a man tearing himself away from his favorite person; he looked like a cultivator focusing on his Dao.

’He really has moved on,’ Ji’an thought, swallowing the bitter lump in her throat.

She forced her brightest, most arrogant chef smile onto her face, refusing to let him see how much the news stung.

"Well, look at you, skipping the line," Ji’an laughed, though the sound was slightly hollow to her own ears. She reached across the table, clapping him firmly on the shoulder.