---
In the northern wing of the Jade Moon Sect, where the wind was always tinged with camellia blossoms and quiet discipline, she practiced alone.
Wu Jiao.
A cold-blooded perfectionist.
Top 10 in the inner rankings.
Never once distracted by men.
She believed in elegance, power, and clarity—
Not in desire.
Not in warmth.
She had never so much as looked at Long Tian.
Until now.
---
The First Pulse
It began as a shiver.
Not cold.
Something warmer, almost soft, blooming under her ribs during cultivation.
"What… is this?"
She sat cross-legged beneath the Jade Camellia Tree, trying to regulate her Yin.
Her breath was steady.
Her dantian was calm.
But something else pulsed beneath it.
A rhythm.
Not hers.
It wasn't violent.
It didn't force.
It echoed.
---
She stood, confused.
Looked around the courtyard.
And there he was.
Long Tian.
Sweeping leaves. Silent. Head bowed.
Nothing seductive in posture.
No arrogance. No display.
But…
"Why is the wind circling him?"
Indeed, even the wind danced near him.
His body glowed faintly—not with spiritual force, but with something older. A presence. A pull.
---
That Night
Wu Jiao dreamed of a hand.
Not on her body—
But reaching into her heart, gently… as if to take away something heavy she didn't know she carried.
The hand whispered her name.
Not with words.
With heat.
She woke gasping.
Her inner robe clung to her chest.
She felt flushed.
Angry.
Ashamed.
"I don't even know him," she whispered to herself.
"This must be Qi deviation…"
---
The Next Day
She tried to confront him.
She waited by the garden wall as he passed.
"Long Tian."
He stopped.
"Senior Wu," he said calmly.
She studied him, but he didn't even look directly at her.
His eyes were lowered—respectful, not submissive.
He did not flirt.
He did not smirk.
And yet—
Her Qi curled near him.
The petals of the jade camellias swayed toward him.
Even the shadows bent slightly in his direction.
"What… are you?" she asked.
He met her eyes.
And said nothing.
Because the answer would sound like madness.
---
The Vein Responds
The moment lingered—just heartbeats.
But in that breath of closeness, her pulse raced.
Her inner sea trembled.
Desire without lust.
Recognition without memory.
Pain that felt like the edge of pleasure.
She turned away before she could say something she'd regret.
"Forget it," she snapped. "Stay away from me."
He bowed once.
Did not follow.
But behind her, his Sutra burned—not in hunger… but in resonance.
---
She'yan's Whisper
That night, She'yan appeared beside Long Tian as he meditated beneath the moon.
"You didn't touch her," she said.
"But her dreams… now carry you."
"That is the Vein of Echoed Heat."
"Desire is no longer something you chase. It finds you."
"Now the question is…"
She leaned close, her breath brushing his ear.
"When the bloom opens… will you pluck it?"
---