Charlie was deep asleep when someone knocked on his door.
The sound barely reached him at first, muffled by the heavy warmth of the bedding and the lingering exhaustion in his body. Then came another knock, firmer this time, followed by Yu’s voice from the other side.
"Charlie. Wake up."
He made a sound somewhere between a groan and an acknowledgment and pulled the blanket tighter around himself.
"There’s someone here to pick you up."
Charlie opened his eyes and stared at the wooden ceiling for a moment before the memory returned. Renguang. 
He sat up at once, regretted doing so when his legs protested beneath him, and swung his feet onto the floor.
"How long have they been waiting?"
"Not long."
The room was still cool with the early morning air, and pale light slipped through the shutters in narrow bands across the floor. Charlie dressed quickly, choosing the first clothes that looked reasonably presentable and fastening them with considerably less care than he normally would. His hair received a brief attempt at order before he abandoned it. There was no time to make himself look particularly respectable, and considering the circumstances, he suspected respectability had already left the room without him.
Yu was waiting outside when he emerged.
"You should hurry," she said, stepping aside.
"I’m aware."
Charlie passed her, then noticed that she had suddenly raised one hand to her nose.
Charlie glanced toward her hand.
"Really?"
Yu lowered it, though not very far. "When was the last time you washed?"
Charlie opened his mouth, intending to answer immediately.
The past few days had consisted largely of waking up confused, cooking, arguing, being attacked, discovering strange abilities, running through Liangjing, and generally finding new ways to make his situation worse. Somewhere in the middle of all that, basic hygiene had apparently ceased to qualify as an urgent concern.
He lifted an arm cautiously and caught the edge of his sleeve. The smell reached him almost at once. There was no point pretending.
He lowered his arm.
"Ah."
Yu’s expression shifted into something between sympathy and mild disbelief. "You smell."
"I’ve discovered that."
"You should wash before you go."
Charlie glanced toward the courtyard. Beyond it, near the manor’s outer gate, he could hear the faint clatter of a waiting carriage and the low murmur of unfamiliar voices. Whoever Renguang had sent was already there.
He looked back at Yu.
"I don’t have time."
"Charlie."
"I’ll wash when I return."
Yu studied him for another moment, then sighed. "You’d better."
Charlie adjusted the collar of his robe, hoping that dignity might compensate for whatever the rest of him lacked. It probably wouldn’t.
He stepped through the gate and into the morning streets of Liangjing.
A carriage was waiting just beyond the manor gate.
It was larger than Charlie expected, built from dark wood with curved eaves and brass fittings that caught the morning light whenever the wheels passed through a brighter patch of street. Two horses stood harnessed at the front, their breath faintly visible in the cool air, while a young man in blue robes waited beside the carriage with the patient expression of someone who had been told to expect an important guest.
Charlie climbed inside.
The interior was considerably more comfortable than he had anticipated. Cushioned benches lined the sides, and the wooden walls had been carved with clouds and curling patterns that looked almost familiar in the way traditional motifs sometimes did, despite Charlie having no memory of ever seeing them before.
He settled into his seat and looked through the open window as the carriage began moving.
Liangjing was already awake.
Shopkeepers were lifting shutters, vendors were arranging baskets of vegetables and fruit beneath awnings, and servants hurried through the streets carrying messages or parcels for their masters. The farther they travelled from the residential district, the denser the city became. Carriages squeezed between handcarts, pedestrians moved around one another with practiced ease, and the morning air carried the mingled smells of steamed buns, horse, woodsmoke, and incense drifting from a nearby shrine.
Charlie watched it all in silence until the buildings gradually began to thin.
After some time, he finally turned toward the man seated opposite him.
"Where exactly are we going?"
The young man looked up.
"The Eastern Pavilion."
Charlie waited.
"And where is that?"
"We must first pass through Heaven’s Gate Mountain. Once we cross it, the Eastern Pavilion lies beyond."
Charlie looked back out the window.
"Heaven’s Gate Mountain."
"Yes."
There was something in the way the man said it that suggested Charlie was expected to recognize the name.
The road began climbing soon afterward. The broad streets of Liangjing disappeared behind them, replaced by winding roads bordered by trees and low stone walls. The city seemed to recede with every turn, until even the distant roofs were swallowed by the rising hills.
Charlie leaned back against the carriage. He should have been thinking about the place they were going.
Instead, his thoughts returned to the duel. Charlie had no way of winning this battle. Atleast not with two broken legs and no knowledge of swordmanship and no idea whether he could reproduce Clothing Rupture even if his life depended on it.
He rubbed a hand over his face. Perhaps he had made the wrong decision.
There was still another possibility. He could apologize.
The thought was humiliating enough that he almost dismissed it immediately, but practical considerations had a way of surviving pride. He could explain that the previous incident had been a misunderstanding, offer his services to the Azure Cloud Sect, and perhaps turn the whole situation into something useful. If they wanted someone who could cook, negotiate, or settle disputes, Charlie had already demonstrated that he could do at least two of those things reasonably well.
The third remained questionable. He looked out at the mountains. Maybe working for the sect would be safer than fighting it.
The carriage continued upward, its wheels grinding softly over stone. Sunlight filtered through the branches above them, moving across the carriage interior in shifting patches of gold.
Charlie exhaled.
No.
He wasn’t ready to surrender yet. But he was beginning to wish he had thought about the duel before accepting it.
By the time they passed through Heaven’s Gate Mountain, the landscape had changed completely.
The road emerged onto a vast stretch of cultivated land unlike anything Charlie had seen around Liangjing. Trees grew in carefully arranged clusters, some ancient and broad enough to shade entire paths, others delicate and flowering despite the season. Blossoms covered the grounds in scattered patches of colour, while narrow streams wound between stone walkways and disappeared beneath small arched bridges.
Charlie leaned toward the window.
The Eastern Pavilion was less a building than an entire estate.
Its structures were scattered across the landscape, connected by covered paths and gardens that seemed to stretch farther than the eye could follow. The air itself felt different here, cleaner and cooler, carrying the scent of flowers and damp earth.
The carriage eventually slowed before an enormous stone statue.
It depicted a creature resembling a monkey, though its proportions were far too large to belong to any animal he knew. It stood several times the height of a man, carved with remarkable detail, its broad shoulders hunched forward and its enormous hands resting against its knees. Moss covered portions of its stone body, giving it the appearance of something ancient that had been standing there long before the pavilion had ever been built.
The carriage stopped directly before it.
"Is this the entrance?"
The young man gave him a faint smile.
"You’ll see."
They waited. Charlie began to wonder whether there was some elaborate ritual he was supposed to perform when the enormous stone creature’s belly suddenly shifted.
Stone moved against stone with a deep grinding sound. A seam appeared across its torso. Then the belly opened. Charlie stared at the dark passage beyond it.
"Should’ve expected that."
The young man stepped down first.
Charlie followed, entering the strange passage beneath the statue. A few moments later, the stone entrance closed behind them, cutting off the road and the world beyond.
The passage opened almost immediately onto another courtyard.
Charlie stepped out. An elderly man was waiting for him.
He wore plain but finely made robes, his silver hair tied neatly behind his head. Beside him stood another young man, perhaps only a few years older than Charlie, dressed in fine robes.
Both were looking directly at him.
The elderly man stepped forward first. He brought his hands together before his chest and gave Charlie a deep, formal bow.
"Welcome to the Eastern Pavilion. I am Elder Mo Yuan of the Heavenly Principle Sect."
He straightened and gestured toward the young man beside him.
"And this is Xie Yuan, a disciple of our sect."
Xie Yuan inclined his head, though the gesture was considerably less respectful than Mo Yuan’s.
Charlie returned the bow, careful not to put too much strain on his still-unsteady legs.
"Charlie Kirk. It’s a pleasure to meet you both."
Xie Yuan’s eyes passed over him.
It lasted only a moment, but Charlie noticed. There was something dismissive in the young man’s expression, as though he had expected someone rather different and was mildly disappointed by what had arrived instead.
Charlie said nothing. He was beginning to understand that in this world, knowing when to keep his mouth shut could be just as valuable as knowing what to say.
Mo Yuan turned toward the pavilion.
"Please, follow me."
Charlie fell into step behind him. As he passed Xie Yuan, however, the atmosphere seemed to change. A dark pressure brushed against him.
It was subtle at first, almost like walking too close to a storm that had not yet broken. Then Charlie felt it more clearly: a cold, oppressive presence radiating from Xie Yuan that made the air itself seem heavier. The sensation crawled across his skin, and for once, Charlie had no clever remark ready.
He kept walking.
Right.
His thoughts about apologizing and offering to work for the sect suddenly seemed considerably more sensible.
I’ll have to watch my tongue in this place unless I want my ass bombed.
Charlie followed Mo Yuan deeper into the Eastern Pavilion, saying nothing as the enormous gates closed behind them.
The interior of the Eastern Pavilion was nothing like the quiet exterior suggested.
People moved through it constantly. Disciples in pale robes crossed the courtyards carrying books or wooden practice swords, attendants hurried between buildings with trays of tea, and from somewhere beyond the nearest wall came the sharp crack of wooden weapons striking together, followed by an irritated voice ordering someone to start again. Beneath a flowering tree, two young disciples argued over a scroll while a pair of birds hopped along the tiled roof above them. Water ran quietly through narrow channels between the stone paths, weaving through the estate before disappearing beneath the buildings.
Charlie followed Mo Yuan through it all, catching fragments of conversation as they passed.
"—told you the third principle was wrong."
"It wasn’t wrong. You copied the wrong passage."
"That’s what I just said."
An attendant bowed as Mo Yuan passed, and two disciples stepped aside to let them through. Somewhere overhead, a bell sounded once, sending a few people hurrying toward another part of the grounds.
Charlie found himself watching more than he intended. There was an order to the place, but it wasn’t the rigid sort he had expected from a martial sect. People studied, trained, argued, ate, and went about their business around them as though this enormous estate were simply another town.
After they had crossed another courtyard, Mo Yuan finally stopped.
"You may leave us, Xie Yuan."
A shiver moved down Charlie’s spine.
He hadn’t even realized that Xie Yuan had been following them. Very closely.
Charlie glanced back. The young man stood only a few steps behind him, silent and unreadable.
Xie Yuan gave Mo Yuan a bow.
"Yes, Elder."
He turned and left without another word.
Charlie watched him disappear around the corner.
"Forgive his behaviour," Mo Yuan said. "Xie Yuan can be... difficult at times."
"I noticed."
A faint smile touched the elder’s face, but he offered no further explanation.
They continued until they reached a broad circular room with several passageways branching away from it. Some disappeared into the inner buildings, while others opened toward distant courtyards.
Before Charlie could ask where they were headed, footsteps sounded from one of the passages.
A familiar figure emerged.
Renguang smiled when he saw him and crossed the room, giving Charlie a light tap on the shoulder.
"Charlie. You made it."
Renguang laughed before turning toward Mo Yuan.
"Thank you for bringing him here. You may leave the rest to me."
Mo Yuan bowed.
"Of course."
He departed without another word.
Renguang gestured for Charlie to follow.
"Come. I’ve prepared a few things for you."
Charlie raised an eyebrow but followed.
They walked in silence for a short while before Renguang glanced at him.
"You’ve already met Xie Yuan?"
"Yes."
"And?"
Charlie considered his answer.
"He didn’t seem particularly pleased to see me."
Renguang laughed.
"Don’t take it too seriously. Xie Yuan is like that."
"That’s reassuring."
"Take it like a grain of salt."
Charlie looked at him.
"That’s a very small grain."
Renguang led Charlie away from the busier parts of the pavilion, taking a narrower corridor that eventually opened into a small private room overlooking a quiet courtyard. There was a low table in the centre, two chairs, and a pot of tea already waiting.
Renguang was still smiling when Charlie shifted in his chair, trying to find a position that put less pressure on his legs. The movement had become an unavoidable part of sitting now, a quiet negotiation with pain that he was beginning to resent almost as much as the man who had caused it.
"Actually," Renguang said, "I may be able to help with that."
"With my legs?"
Renguang set his teacup down and studied him for a moment. "Looking at you, I would assume you weren’t born with them broken."
"No. I had a fight with an old man."
"An old man?"
"Yes."
Something in Renguang’s expression changed.
"Elder Guo?"
Charlie stared at him. "How did you know that?"
"Elder Guo is rather well known for breaking people’s legs."
The revelation did little for Charlie’s opinion of Elder Guo. If anything, it made the whole encounter more irritating in retrospect, as though the old man had spent years cultivating a reputation for crippling people and Charlie had somehow wandered directly into his specialty.
"This bald-ahh bum nerfed me," Charlie muttered.
Renguang paused with his cup near his mouth.
"I’m sorry?"
"Nothing."
Charlie decided not to explain, particularly since explaining the phrase would require explaining several things about himself that he had no intention of discussing.
Instead, he returned to the more immediate problem. "Could you teach me swordsmanship? Or arrange for someone here to teach me?"
The request drew an amused laugh from Renguang.
"One of your disciples challenged me to a duel," Charlie continued. "I accepted, although I’m increasingly convinced that I didn’t understand what I was agreeing to at the time."
"You accepted a martial challenge without knowing how to fight?"
"I know how to argue."
"Those are rather different skills."
"I’ve noticed."
The humor faded as Charlie considered what was waiting for him outside this room. He had two damaged legs, no swordsmanship, almost no understanding of qi, and only the vaguest grasp of the rules governing the martial world. Whatever confidence he had managed to maintain so far had been built largely on the assumption that he could talk his way through situations before they became physical, and that strategy was becoming considerably less useful now that someone had actually challenged him to a fight.
"I genuinely don’t know if I’ll survive the duel," he admitted. "I’ve got two damaged legs, I don’t know how to use a sword, and I still haven’t figured out how most of this world works. I was hoping you might know someone who could teach me enough that I wouldn’t immediately embarrass myself."
Renguang considered the problem rather than laughing at it. "There is another possibility. If your injuries make you incapable of fighting, you could request a proxy."
"Someone fights in my place?"
"In certain circumstances, yes. If Elder Guo caused your injuries deliberately, you may have grounds to make such a request."
That was considerably more useful than another sword lesson. "Where do I find someone willing to do that?"
"You probably won’t."
"Why not?"
"Because you’re dealing with the Azure Cloud Sect."
Renguang explained that while a proxy could sometimes be used when a challenger was genuinely incapable of fighting, the situation became considerably more complicated when the opposing sect was one of the Azure Cloud Sect’s standing. They had their own rules surrounding challenges, their own expectations concerning honour, and little reason to welcome an outsider stepping forward on Charlie’s behalf. Finding someone willing to take responsibility for such a duel would already be difficult; finding someone willing to do it against the Azure Cloud Sect was, in Renguang’s estimation, almost impossible.
"So you’re saying there’s a chance?"
"Close to zero."
Charlie leaned back, letting his head rest against the chair as the last convenient solution disappeared. Beyond the lattice window, wooden swords continued striking together in the training grounds, each impact followed by the measured voice of an instructor correcting his students. The sounds carried easily through the afternoon air, steady and disciplined, while Charlie sat in a quiet room trying to work out how a man who had never properly learned to fight had ended up with a martial duel hanging over his head.
"You should work with what you have," Renguang said.
"That’s easier said than done."
"I didn’t say it would be easy."
Their conversation might have continued, but quiet footsteps approached from the corridor. A servant entered carrying a small wooden box, crossed the room without disturbing them, and knelt beside Renguang with the practiced precision of someone following a ritual she had performed countless times. She lowered her forehead almost to the floor and extended the box toward him with both hands.
Charlie watched the peculiar arrangement for a moment before curiosity got the better of him. The servant remained perfectly still, apparently expecting nothing except to continue waiting, while Renguang calmly drank his tea as though having a kneeling servant hold a box beside him were an entirely ordinary part of afternoon conversation.
Charlie reached for it.
Renguang slapped his hand away without even looking up.
"What?"
Renguang continued drinking.
The servant did not react.
Charlie withdrew his hand and settled back into his chair, increasingly unsure whether he had just violated some important rule of etiquette or simply attempted to steal something that Renguang didn’t want him touching. The silence that followed became strangely prolonged. Outside, leaves stirred against one another in the breeze, and the distant sounds of the pavilion continued around them, but inside the room nobody seemed inclined to acknowledge the servant’s continued presence.
Eventually, after sitting through the silence for far longer than he would have considered reasonable, Charlie accidentally burped.
Renguang lowered his cup.
Without comment, he reached out and took the box from the servant’s hands. She withdrew immediately, backing toward the doorway with her head still lowered before finally rising and disappearing into the corridor.
Charlie watched the empty doorway for a moment before turning back.
"What was that?"
Renguang opened the box.
He offered no explanation.
Charlie let out a slow breath through his nose, deciding that whatever had just happened was probably another piece of local etiquette he would eventually have to learn, assuming the duel did not kill him first.