The morning shift was relatively calm, and at lunch, there was the same manic crowd as the day before; the fatigue and lack of sleep didn't help Heng's meditation.

  In the afternoon, after he was done eating far too much, he went to study in his room. There, he mimicked the shapes and patterns shown in the scroll, and translated their meaning and functions with the help of the Chang patriarch’s book.

  It was challenging, and the many failures at replicating even the smallest portions were frustrating to say the least; he forced himself to persist.

  The silence was slowly filled by a new ruckus in the shop: Men and women discussing, alternating between heated arguments or simply talking over each other, their loud voices distracting to say the least.

  Annoyed, he slowly descended the stairs, trying to see who was making it.

  He hid behind a wall, and could barely feel the aura of a Cultivator. Poking only his head out, he saw a group of men and women sitting in chairs around one of the tables, arguing among themselves.

  “... But the funds aren’t sufficient for that, it’s just not doable!”

  “Just take them away from your stupid laundry plan, and we have them! They’d be wasted there anyway!”

  “Are you stupid? It’d cover its cost on its own within months, and then we can do whatever idiocy you want to”

  Two spat at each other.

  Other conversations happened at the same time.

  “We need to find more people to make the work; restructuring so many buildings at once needs more manpower.”

  “I say we appoint more recruiters, so we can find new volunteers or supporters that can fill the gaps.”

  “Right now, we lack the funding for that. We need the people we have to actually work, and not find more people to do it in their stead.”

  “We just need to make the process more efficient, we are wasting too many hands, between the protests and the so-called seamstresses.”

  “I will take care of finding more people to help.” A known voice said, pink hair the only visible part. “But to make them stay, they will need to feel like a community. We can’t reduce the production of-”

  Xin turned back to look at him despite his hiding with surprise in her eyes.

  “Chang Heng!” She stood, her expression moving from passionate to… respectful? “I did not think I’d see you here. To what do we owe the pleasure?”

  The people around shifted in discomfort, but kept on speaking between themselves, their voices hushed. The boy heard one complain about how she could feel his aura, unlike all the other mortals there, who did not like being spied on. He left his hiding spot, embarrassed to have been found out like that; he now had another thing to train on, apparently.

  “It’s just Heng now. Lost the family name for… You know.”

  “Hm? I’m not really sure…” Then, it dawned on her. “Oh! Oh. I… did not expect it’d end up like that for you. Sorry.”

  An embarrassed moment of silence stretched.

  “It’s… It’s not your fault. I don’t mean to sound rude, but it wasn’t about you, just about my… the clan’s reputation. And with me, and you…” He gestured vaguely.

  “So it still is because of me. Sorry again, but I really needed every win.” She said, smiling apologetically, then looked at the people behind her. “At ease guys, we don’t risk offending any big shot here.”

  The noise resumed, but this time they weren’t shouting anymore.

  Their young eyes met again. Heng couldn’t read her at all, and he felt a mix of too many emotions looking at her cute face. Eventually, awkwardness won over anger and blame that he was desperately trying not to show.

  “I can make you something to eat. I work here now, until we go to the sect, at least.”

  “Sure, I’ll help you. Lung’s being kind enough as is, letting us use the place, no way I’m making you do it alone. But I’m not helping you that way, if you know what I mean.”

  The boy was not sure what the joke meant.

  The two walked into the kitchen, and after checking the available, and at Xin's insistence, the cheapest ingredients, they settled to make some fried dough. She insisted again, this time on frying them in used oil, instead of the more expensive, new oil.

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  The boy started the fire as they talked.

  “I found Lung because of my once-cousin. How did you guys end up here?”

  “The man’s trusted in the community, one of my friends proposed it, we saw no reason not to accept. And the creepy statue in front helps to find the place.”

  “Yeah, that thing’s quite weird. I think I saw a book about it in his library, I planned to read it one of these days.”

  “You know how to read? That's rare.” She asked with curiosity.

  “Yeah, my parents were very firm on giving me a good education, and I spent enough time at home that it grew easy. The characters were hellish hard to read for years, especially with the kind of stuff that I am into.”

  “That sounds nice.” Her tone was genuine, like her smile. The pink-haired girl moved a few steps away to grab a pan, as the boy fueled the fire to grow. “I bet they are good people. You seem like you are one, too, you must have taken it from them.”

  They are, and I don’t get to see them because of you.

  The boy hated himself a bit for that thought. It wasn’t fair, especially with how nice she was being to him.

  Their first encounter came back to mind. She had called him “cutie”.

  “I don’t think I’m as good as them, but… thank you.” He tried to hide his reddening face with the light of the fire.

  “Just take the compliment, Heng. And, you’re welcome.” Her tone a mix of kind and acidic.

  How could I?”

  The silence came back, but this time it wasn’t as embarrassing, as they worked to get the dough ready and the frying oil boiling. It was nice working with a peaceful company, he decided. It was a bit funny too, when he got to teach her how to handle the dough with only one day of experience of his own.

  “Hey… How has Cultivation been for you?”

  She appeared shy for the first time as she asked it, with a hint of worry.

  “Well… the parts unrelated to it, that I have to do anyway? Loathe them. Tournament was just stress and more stress, the training humiliating, and learning fighting Techniques a pain. I don't get how any of this should make sense, but I get that everyone else cares about fighting and stuff, and so I need to do it too, or I'll be bullied into the short stick more often than I'd like.

  But at the same time… I kind of love it. I'm not sure how to put it into words. I can feel myself improving every passing day, no matter how slow the process is. My body is not just a source of pain now, but also the proof of my efforts. And I get to make real the things I've studied for years. When I close my eyes… The word is beautiful. Whenever I meditate, I see all my effort making me one with it.”

  As he spoke with a dreamy voice, the Qi in the air felt easy to grasp. He extended his hand, showing his palm to the girl, and gently grasped those motes with his will: when he was done talking, they had formed a little smiling face.

  She giggled and poked it, sending those little wisps flying away, out of their small range of perception, one by one. When she was done, she poked his hand. At that, the boy blushed.

  Her finger was soft, just like her beautiful smile.

  When she looked up at his red cheeks, she giggled once more.

  “We truly are opposites, uh?” She said, taking her finger away, to his disappointment.

  “What do you mean?”

  “As Cultivators, as fighters, in our families, even as “cuties”, dare I say.”

  “Well, now I want to know even more just what you mean. I get it as fighters, but the others I really don’t.” And I’m not making the mistake of asking first about your family, this time.

  They started throwing the dough in the frying oil, taking a step back from the sizzling. The redhead grabbed a plate to put them into.

  “Well… your looks are average, even if your hair stands out a bit,” Ouch. “but you act… innocently? Pure, in a way, like the bad parts of the world have yet to taint you. Meanwhile, I can’t really deny the way I look, but people like to have me act the opposite of you. And I accepted it for so long that it became a part of me.”

  “What about Cultivation? What’s so different there?” He tried to change the topic, seeing her downcast expression.

  “For you, the inside part feels good, while for me it’s the outside- don’t make jokes. Being there, in the Colosseo, planning how to overcome each obstacle, proving my strength, gave me the chance to break out of that life. The power in my hands gave me people who now follow me, instead of ordering me around.” The voices in the other room became the tiniest bit louder. “In a way, it let me have a purpose.

  But those moments when I give it my all and meditate, spend hours gathering Qi that slips through my grasp, I can only impose myself over a disgusting, weak Technique that only exists to make my body-” Her fist stopped right before punching through the wall. “I’m sorry. I’ve said too much. I… I haven’t slept enough these days, I’m clearly not in control of myself. I don’t even know why I said all this pointless stuff. Let’s finish cooking this up, and I’ll be back to my work.”

  She pressed her palms on her eyes for a few seconds, and when she took them off, the boy noticed how the skin around the eyelids was a bit darker than moments before, her makeup sticking to the palms.

  She seemed to be doing so fine. How is she hiding it so well? How can I help her?

  He looked at the girl as she took the fried balls out of their oil. Only now that he was looking for it, he saw how tight her movements were, the way her muscles wanted to relax and yet she forced them to move precisely, and the distance, the gap, between her body and her mind.

  “If you want, you can use my room and take a nap. It should be clean, if a bit small.”

  “No.” Shapt, Decisive, Final. “I need to deal with this before anything else. This break was nice, Heng, and thank you for the food. But I have a city to change, and only two weeks to do it, I refuse to waste time when there is so much more I can and want to do.”

  Her determination was not something the boy could deny, no matter his worries. Her being radiated a different kind of strength, an unshakeable resolve.

  The girl grabbed the far-too-full plate and expertly balanced it as she left the kitchen in silence. The room behind the door was getting more and more rowdy.

  “Xin.” The redhead called. “When you’re done, come to my room. I have a proposal for you.”