[System Alert: The ’Golden Pair’ has been encountered. Fate is persistent.]

"Brother Gu, Brother Wen," Ji’an nodded. "Fancy meeting you here. I thought rich young masters went to high-end tea houses, not the street market."

"Zhiwei insisted on seeing the common folk’s festivities," Wen Shiru explained smoothly, stepping up beside Gu Zhiwei.

His sharp eyes swept over Ji’an, then landed on Wangchen. He noticed the new white tassel on Winter’s Sigh. Then he noticed the matching blue one on Ji’an’s belt; she hadn’t bought a sword yet, so she just wore it.

Wen Shiru’s eyes narrowed slightly. ’Matching accessories? The bond between master and servant is... unusually close.’

"Since we have met by fate," Wen Shiru smiled, the expression not reaching his calculating eyes, "why don’t we join you? There is a famous pavilion nearby, the Moon-Viewing Tower. I have a reserved table. It would be my honor to treat the heroes who saved my friend."

"We were just leaving," Wangchen cut in, his voice icy.

"Nonsense," Gu Zhiwei pleaded, looking at Ji’an with puppy-dog eyes. "Brother Lin, please? We barely got to talk in the forest! I want to hear more about your culinary martial arts!"

Ji’an looked at Gu Zhiwei’s hopeful face. Then she looked at Wen Shiru’s challenge-filled smile. Then she looked at Wangchen, who looked like he was about to commit a felony.

If she refused, Wen Shiru might get suspicious or offended. Offending the Merchant Guild was bad for business. Plus, keeping the Protagonist close meant she could monitor the plot.

"Free food?" Ji’an shrugged. "I never say no to free food. Lead the way, Boss Wen."

Wangchen let out a sharp exhale through his nose. He glared at Gu Zhiwei’s back as the group turned to walk.

***

The Moon-Viewing Tower was opulent. They were seated on a terrace overlooking the entire city. The table was laden with delicacies, Spirit-Deer Carpaccio, Steamed Snow-Lotus, and jars of Thousand-Year Wine.

It should have been a feast. Instead, it was a battlefield.

The seating arrangement was a tactical disaster. Wen Shiru sat opposite Ji’an. Gu Zhiwei sat next to Wen Shiru.

Wangchen, refusing to sit "below" the table as a servant, pulled a chair right next to Ji’an, creating a tight, defensive wall.

"So," Wen Shiru began, pouring wine for Ji’an. "Brother Lin. I asked around the registration lists today. I didn’t see a ’Lin Clan’ from the Central Plains. May I ask where you hail from?"

"We’re from a small border town," Ji’an lied easily, swirling her wine. "You wouldn’t know it. We mostly farm potatoes and fight boars."

"Potatoes," Wen Shiru repeated, skeptical. "Your martial arts didn’t look like potato-farming techniques. That spatula move... it contained the essence of the Fire Dao."

"Cooking is Fire Dao," Ji’an took a bite of the deer meat. "Controlling the heat. Understanding the transformation of matter. It’s all the same."

"Amazing!" Gu Zhiwei clapped his hands. "So philosophically profound! Brother Lin, you must teach me! My sword art is stagnant because I lack that... that raw connection to life!"

"I can teach you how to scramble an egg," Ji’an offered. "That’s about it."

"I would love to learn!" Gu Zhiwei leaned across the table, his eyes sparkling.

Clank!

Wangchen slammed his cup down on the table. The sound was sharp enough to silence the conversation.

"The Young Master is tired," Wangchen said, his voice low and dangerous. "He needs to rest for the Aptitude Test tomorrow. He does not have time to give cooking lessons."

Gu Zhiwei blinked, recoiling slightly. "I... I didn’t mean to impose..."

"Brother Xie seems very protective," Wen Shiru observed, his smile tightening. "It is rare to see a guard interrupt his master’s conversation."

"He’s not just a guard," Ji’an interjected quickly, sensing the tension spiking. She reached out and placed a hand on Wangchen’s clenched fist, squeezing it. "He’s my partner. His words are my words. If he says I’m tired, I’m tired."

Wangchen froze. He looked down at her hand covering his. The rage that was boiling in his chest instantly cooled, replaced by a smug, victorious warmth.

’Partner.’

He looked across the table at Wen Shiru. He didn’t need to speak. His eyes said it all: ’Back off. He is mine.’

Wen Shiru saw the dynamic. He saw the touch. He saw the look in Wangchen’s eyes.

’Interesting,’ Wen Shiru thought, taking a sip of wine. ’This isn’t a master-servant relationship. It’s... something else. Something that can be easily exploited?’

"My apologies," Wen Shiru bowed his head. "I did not mean to offend. Let us drink to the exam tomorrow. I am sure Brother Lin and Brother Xie will achieve great results."

The rest of the meal was an exercise in awkwardness. Gu Zhiwei kept trying to initiate conversation, only to be blocked by Wangchen’s monosyllabic answers or Ji’an’s deflections.

Wen Shiru watched everything with the detached amusement of a scientist observing rats in a maze.

Finally, the meal ended.

"We should release lanterns before we part," Gu Zhiwei suggested, determined to salvage the romantic atmosphere of the night. "It is a tradition. To pray for good results."

They went down to the riverbank. They bought four paper lotus lanterns.

Gu Zhiwei wrote on his: "May I become strong enough to protect the world." A Classic Protagonist line.

Ji’an picked up the brush. She thought for a moment. Then she wrote, in bold, messy calligraphy: 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

"I want to open a bakery and retire by 30."

She grinned. "Practicality above all."

Then she handed the brush to Wangchen.

Wangchen held the brush. He hesitated. He looked at the lantern, then at Ji’an, who was busy trying to light hers with a fire-starter.

He shielded his lantern with his body so no one could see. He wrote four characters.

"Peace for Him."

He didn’t pray for power. He didn’t pray for the Sect. He prayed for the chaotic, spatula-wielding person who had dragged him out of the darkness.

They set the lanterns into the water. The current caught them, carrying them away into the darkness, joining thousands of other wishes.