The council chamber smelled of rain and sandalwood.

Lotus elders sat in a crescent, their white robes glowing dimly under the lanterns. Beyond them stood the delegates from Sky Wolf Gate, armor damp from travel, faces carved from iron. Between those two worlds—healer and warrior, water and steel—stood me and Ge Ji Ming.

Kneeling side by side.

Master Jian Yue presided at the center, her gaze sharp enough to draw blood. “The Shuangxin bond has reappeared,” she said. “After a century of silence. Do you deny it?”

“No,” Ji Ming answered first. His voice carried through the hall like a blade unsheathed.

I wanted to protest, to protect him, to take the blame, but the words would not come. The air was too thick.

“Then you admit to committing a forbidden act?” Elder Fang’s voice slithered from the Sky Wolf side. “An alliance unblessed by the heavens, condemned by the sages—”

“An accident,” Ji Ming interrupted. “The resonance occurred during combat. It was not cultivated.”

Fang’s mouth curled. “And yet it persists. If it were truly accidental, the link would have broken once battle had ended. So tell me, Sky Wolf heir… did your heart call to hers, or did her sect’s treachery bind you?”

His hand clenched at his knee. “Neither.”

The elders murmured among themselves, soft as falling ash. I bowed my head, feeling every eye on me.

“Sol of White Lotus Hall,” Master Jian Yue said, “explain yourself.”

I lifted my gaze, forcing my voice to stay steady. “I did not seek it. I only defended myself. When his sabers struck, my qi responded, and something in his echoed back.”

“And you made no effort to sever it?”

“I tried.” The lie felt like fire in my throat.

The truth was, I hadn’t. Not once.

A low voice rose from the far corner of the chamber. “If I may.”

Every head turned. Kang Ya Zhen stood there in vermilion robes, her fan folded neatly at her side.

“By the Kang Clan’s charter,” she said, “I was witness to the incident in question. The resonance was defensive for mutual survival. Not a deliberate cultivation.”

Elder Fang’s eyes narrowed. “You would defend them?”

“I would prevent a political disaster,” she replied smoothly. “Execute either of them, and the alliance collapses. The trade routes will suffer, the court will demand reparations, and your sects will bleed silver faster than blood.”

Her tone was sweet with reason, but her words carried the weight of a blade.

Silence followed, uneasy, but real. The council could ignore love, but not economics.

Finally, Master Jian Yue said, “Then the judgment stands as probation. The pair will undertake joint service under the supervision of both sects. They will perform missions to restore sect honor… until either the bond dissolves, or one of them falls.”

The decree was struck like a gong.

Ji Ming bowed once. “Understood.”

I did the same, though my heart thundered in my chest.

As the council dispersed, Ya Zhen passed close enough for me to hear her whisper, “I just saved your lives. You’ll repay me soon enough.”

Her perfume lingered after she was gone… jasmine, silk, and danger.

Outside, the storm had broken. The rain had stopped, but thunder still muttered across the peaks, echoing like distant drums of war.

Ji Ming stood beside me at the temple steps. “Joint service,” he said softly. “That means we’re bound by contract now.”

I looked up at him, the moonlight catching in the wet strands of his hair. “No,” I whispered. “We’ve been bound since the first strike.”

He didn’t argue. He didn’t need to. The resonance hummed again, low and deep, like the world’s heartbeat beneath the silence.