The city gate bottlenecked under the midmorning sun. Lin Hao’s fingers twitched near his spatial pouch—one flick and Firescale Tiger’s roar would scatter these armored fools. Four Treasures circled overhead, its enhanced vision transmitting tactical overlays.

  “There! The gray-eyed bastard!” Madam Zhu’s screech cut through the crowd. Her bandaged face resembled a half-melted wax figure as she jabbed a sausage finger toward Lin Hao. “Cut his tendons! Now!”

  City guards tightened their formation, halberds gleaming. A merchant’s son behind Lin Hao muttered, “Move, you’re blocking my—”

  Thunk.

  Xiao Bai’s claws embedded in cobblestones inches from the man’s sandals. The crowd surged backward, creating a kill zone.

  Lin Hao calculated trajectories—six halberdiers, three crossbowmen on the ramparts. Firescale’s flames could melt steel, but civilian casualties would bring imperial inquisitors. His thumb brushed the tiger summoning token…

  “Halt!”

  The command carried the timbre of glacial streams. Zhao Ling’er stepped from the throng, azure robes rippling with unseen currents. Recognition punched Lin Hao’s gut—wife.

  Madam Zhu’s jowls quivered. “Seize that harlot too!”

  Zhao Ling’er’s fingers danced. Water glyphs crystallized midair, condensing into a swirling stormcloud above the fat noblewoman. Torrential rain drenched Madam Zhu’s silks, revealing lumpy contours better left veiled.

  “My face! My makeup!” The noblewoman flailed, mascara streaking like war paint. Her green parrot—replacement for the one Lin Hao had acquired—squawked “Ugly! Ugly!” from its gilded cage.

  The guard captain lowered his halberd. “Mistress Ling’er of the Zhao hydromancy clan?” His tone shifted to deference. “This… misunderstanding…”

  Zhao Ling’er’s gaze swept the guards. “The Azure Battalion’s charter mandates neutrality in civilian disputes. Shall I consult your commander about today’s breach?”

  Crossbows clicked into safety mode. Halberdiers shuffled backward. Madam Zhu’s wails faded as she waddled toward a silk merchant’s awning for shelter, her humiliation complete.

  Lin Hao met his wife’s eyes across the clearing. Four Treasures landed on his shoulder, mimicking his dry tone: “Gratitude. Unnecessary.”

  Zhao Ling’er’s lips quirked. “The Zhao family repays debts. You spared my cousin during the Lin clan purge.” She tossed a jade slip engraved with tide patterns. “Tianyan’s third trial involves water maze navigation. This may prove… useful.”

  The crowd parted as she walked away, puddles freezing beneath her footsteps into fractal ice flowers. Lin Hao crushed the jade slip—hydrographic maps flooded his mind.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  “Complicated woman,” Four Treasures observed.

  “Complicated world,” Lin Hao countered, stepping through the unmanned gate. The trial grounds awaited, and with them, Zǐ Yè’s promised arsenal. Somewhere beyond those obsidian monoliths, a lich priest’s laughter echoed.

  The game deepened.

  The Flower Already Has a Master

  The crowd buzzed like a kicked hornet’s nest. Zhao Ling’er’s glacial beauty left a trail of slack jaws and racing pulses in her wake. Lin Hao followed, tethered by the azure silk ribbon in her hand—a leash both practical and symbolic.

  “How’d a blind man get here?” sneered a pockmarked youth.

  “Must’ve crawled,” his companion chuckled.

  Four Treasures swooped low, talons snatching the mockers’ hair ornaments. Twin yelps pierced the air as scalps bled. The parrot circled back to Lin Hao’s shoulder, preening. “Master’s wife. Respect.”

  Zhao Ling’er’s grip tightened on the ribbon. “Control your bird.”

  “It merely defends your honor,” Lin Hao countered, savoring the citrus-and-snow scent clinging to her robes. “Husbandly duty, no?”

  She quickened her pace. The ribbon snapped taut, nearly yanking Lin Hao off-balance. He grinned—this dance of push-and-pull amused him more than any Tianyan trial.

  ——

  The mountain path twisted like a wounded serpent. Cultivators leapt boulders with gazelle grace, showing off for Zhao Ling’er’s imagined approval. Lin Hao counted their missteps through Four Treasures’ eyes: a merchant’s son tripped over his ceremonial sword; a fire mage singed his own eyebrows.

  “You’re slowing me down,” Zhao Ling’er muttered as they navigated a scree slope.

  Lin Hao tugged the ribbon, pulling her flush against him. “Am I?” His breath stirred the jade hairpin at her ear. “Or are you savoring this?”

  Before she could retort, a voice slick as oil cut through the crisp air. “Miss Zhao! What fortune to meet you here!”

  Li Changfeng descended from a higher trail, white robes billowing with calculated elegance. His entourage—two sycophants clutching spirit beast eggs—snickered at Lin Hao’s milky eyes.

  “The gravity array on Tianyan’s steps is child’s play for one of your talents,” Li purred, ignoring Lin Hao entirely. “Might I offer guidance through—?”

  Four Treasures dive-bombed, shredding Li’s left sleeve. “Wife! Wife!” the parrot shrieked.

  Chaos erupted. Li’s spirit beast egg shattered, releasing a baby basilisk that promptly bit his ankle. Zhao Ling’er stifled a laugh behind her sleeve—a fleeting crack in her ice-princess facade.

  Lin Hao pressed his advantage. “Jealousy suits you.”

  “Delusion suits you better,” she shot back, though the ribbon’s tension eased.

  ——

  The trial grounds sprawled beneath them—a thousand stone steps ascending to black iron gates. Cultivators massed at the base, some meditating, others vomiting from exertion. The air rippled with distorted gravity.

  Zhao Ling’er produced a jade vial. “Drink this. It’ll counteract—”

  Lin Hao crushed it underfoot. “Watch.”

  He stepped onto the first stair. Bone creaked; capillaries burst in his eyes. The crowd jeered—until he took the second step. And the third. Each footprint left cracks spiderwebbing through stone.

  Li Changfeng gaped. “Impossible! His meridians should’ve collapsed!”

  Zhao Ling’er’s nails dug into her palms. Lin Hao’s spine hadn’t bowed an inch. The ribbon hung slack between them, forgotten.

  At step 500, blood seeped from Lin Hao’s pores. At 750, his tendons snapped like lute strings. Still he climbed—a marionette with invisible threads.

  The gates loomed. Lin Hao collapsed against them, grinning through crimson teeth. “Told you I’d make it.”

  Zhao Ling’er found herself running—a first in her meticulously controlled life. She caught him as he fell, his blood staining snow-white silk.

  “Why?” she demanded.

  His chuckle bubbled wetly. “Couldn’t let my wife enter alone.”

  The gates groaned open. Elder Wen observed from the shadows, jade tablet glowing. The character for ‘persistence’ had rewritten itself in Lin Hao’s profile—a trait not seen since the academy’s founding.

  Somewhere in the mortal realm, a lich priest toasted with a goblet of molten stars. “To chaos.”