“Was t…t-hat the only reason you came to find me?” Song Fen asked. A quick look of frustration passed over her face and she shook her head, letting go of Li Xiulan’s wrist. “No, I mean… would you sit with me, Li Xiulan?”

Li Xiulan blinked. Song Fen looked embarrassed, maybe even a little red if Li Xiulan squinted. 

“I thought you wanted to be alone?” Li Xiulan found herself saying, although it wasn’t really what she had intended. Song Fen winced, the embarrassment only seeming to grow.

“I shouldn’t have said t…t-hat. I mean, I did want to be alone, but you didn’t say anything wrong, and I just ran off without an explanation. I…”

Song Fen let out a noise of exasperation, gesturing towards the table. “Sit. Please.”

Li Xiulan nodded slowly, allowing the door to fall shut behind her as she entered the room. She sat on the floor, watching Song Fen pace back and forth, tapping her lip with her thumb.

“Are you okay, Song Fen?” Li Xiulan asked. Whatever awkwardness she had felt before was overshadowed by concern for this unusual mood. 

Song Fen let out a long sigh, dropping to the floor across from Li Xiulan. She took a deep breath, running her hands along the sides of her head and mussing up the strands of hair that stuck out.

“T…t-his may sound crazy.”

“I’m okay with crazy.”

The corner of Song Fen’s mouth quirked up as she looked at Li Xiulan, allowing her hands to fall to her sides.

“Alright. You know what we heard before, about t…t-hat man disappearing?”

Li Xiulan nodded again, unsure of where this was headed.

“Last night, I woke up before the sun had come up. At first I thought that it was just my nerves keeping me up, but after laying there for a while, I realized that I was sensing something.”

“Sensing something?” Li Xiulan echoed.

“Yes. It’s like… a sensation beneath my skin, almost. Like bugs crawling on my arms, so light that I could barely feel them. But it was t…t-here. And I ignored it, hoping that it would go away. But I can still sense it. There’s something here.”

“Here, as in… your room?” Li Xiulan asked, hoping that Song Fen was implying that there was an infestation of bugs in her walls. That hope was dashed when Song Fen shook her head.

“Here, as in, t…t-he entire pavilion. I think whatever it is might be responsible for that man’s disappearance.”

As soon as the words had left Song Fen’s mouth, she let out a quiet laugh, folding her knees to her chest and laying her forehead against them.

“See? I told you it would sound crazy. Just… forget it.”

Li Xiulan didn’t know exactly what Song Fen felt, but she was inclined to believe her. A memory resurfaced in her mind of what she had seen not too long ago. She had experienced some weird things herself.

“The courtyard,” Li Xiulan muttered. “At night, it was completely silent. It struck me as odd, then, and when I went to investigate, I heard something moving out there.”

Song Fen lifted her head slightly. There was skepticism in it, like she was waiting for Li Xiulan to start laughing at her.

“In other words, Song Fen, I believe you. I don’t know if whatever we felt is the same, or if it has anything to do with that man, but I believe you.”

Song Fen’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly. She pressed her lips together and they trembled slightly. Li Xiulan wondered how long it had been since someone had told her those words, simple as they were. Had she truly been denied something so basic as “I believe you”?

“T…t-hank you,” Song Fen said. “I don’t… really know why I told you. I still don’t think we can do anything about it.”

“No, there is something we can do,” Li Xiulan said with the utmost confidence. “Now we know that there’s something out there. That means we can protect ourselves.” She smiled, reaching for Song Fen’s hand across the table. She took it, running her fingertip over Song Fen’s knuckles. “See? If you hadn’t said anything, I wouldn’t have known to be careful. You’ve saved me.”

Song Fen’s eyes fixated on where Li Xiulan’s fingers touched hers, the words barely coming to her lips. Finally, she cleared her throat and looked away.

“No need to exaggerate, Li Xiulan. I’ve hardly saved anyone. But… I appreciate it.” 

Some of that cloudiness seemed to clear from Song Fen’s face, bringing back with it the light that shone so beautifully in Song Fen’s eyes.

“No exaggeration here,” Li Xiulan said, squeezing her hand gently. “I want to know what you’re thinking. I want to know what you’re feeling. Don’t push me away because you’re worried.”

Song Fen turned her head to the side, laying her free hand over her mouth. Her grip on Li Xiulan’s hand tightened.

“I can’t make promises. But… I’ll t…t-ry.”

Li Xiulan nodded, squeezing Song Fen’s hand one more time before letting go. Song Fen’s hand seemed to briefly chase hers, but then fell back to her side. She muttered something into her hand that Li Xiulan couldn’t quite catch, but whatever it was seemed to only increase Song Fen’s embarrassment.

Their silence was broken by a quiet growl. Song Fen laid her hand over her stomach, eyes wide in surprise.

“Oh. I suppose I still haven’t eaten, have I?” she said sheepishly. Li Xiulan flashed her a smile and pushed the food on the table towards her.

“Go ahead. I’ll leave you alone,” Li Xiulan replied. She pushed herself up to her feet, turning towards the door. 

“T…t-hank you again, Li Xiulan,” Song Fen said right as Li Xiulan reached the door. “It means a lot to me. Um, both the talk and the food.”

The sincerity in Song Fen’s voice sent a jolt of warmth through Li Xiulan’s stomach. It bloomed throughout her body, making her hair stand on end. It nearly made her tremble with joy, a kind that she had never felt before.

“Of course,” she managed to say, knowing her eyes were glistening when she looked back at Song Fen. “You can talk to me whenever you’d like. And I can get you more food, too.”

Song Fen laughed at that, and Li Xiulan found herself closing the door slowly behind her, letting the quietness of the hall wash over her.

It was like she was buzzing. Every part of her was alive, ignited by the thought of someone needing her. She was happy. She was so, so happy, overcome once more by the thought of having a friend. That night she stumbled back to her room practically drunk on her joy, despite the danger that she and Song Fen sensed.

As she laid on her bed and stared at the ceiling, she realized that it didn’t matter what Song Fen’s favorite color was, or any of those other frivolous things she had thought before. Whatever she felt with Song Fen was real. It wasn’t conditional, based upon what facts she knew about her; it was intrinsic to the way they worked, the way they so naturally flowed with each other.

All those things could be learned over time. This feeling -- Li Xiulan knew, without a doubt, that it was friendship.

Her fluttering heart made it hard to sleep, but finally she drifted off, with a slight hissing noise emanating from the garden outside her window.

The next day, Li Xiulan woke up bright and refreshed. She nearly felt like a new person, free from the weight of worry. Somehow, the thought of writing another essay didn’t even bother her, instead replaced by the desire to see Song Fen again. That desire was quickly fulfilled when Song Fen showed up at her door once more, and they talked the whole way to breakfast and to the courtyard for their next writing prompt.

This time they had to write an essay about farming practices in the lands to the west. The topic came easier to her than the last, and she wrote with enough ease that at the end of the time, she actually felt the slightest spark of confidence. Song Fen turned to her and laughed, joking about her own essay and how she had forgotten all the names of the farming equipment. 

Later that evening, when the results went up again, they found that they had both made it through to the top twenty-five contestants. Much to their dismay, Hou Jin had made it as well. As cultivators from the White Snake sect dragged away the furious contestants who had lost, it was now impossible to avoid being noticed in the crowd.

Although Hou Jin’s eyes narrowed when he saw them, he kept his mouth shut. He also didn’t say a word to a single one of the contestants who had lost and simply crossed his arms.

“Xu Chang. Let’s go,” he commanded, turning his eyes away from Li Xiulan and Song Fen. Xu Chang, who was standing very close behind him, nodded and followed as he exited. Li Xiulan smirked as the two of them disappeared from view.

“I guess Hou Jin’s being kept on a short leash now,” she joked, nudging Song Fen.

“It’s his own fault. If he didn’t have such a nasty t...t-emper, Xu Chang wouldn’t need to hover over him all the time.”

At least it seemed that Hou Jin wouldn’t be bothering them for the remainder of the competition. With only one qualifying round remaining before the real contest, Li Xiulan felt strangely at ease.

That is, until a strange fog settled in that night.