A narrow festival alley. The Lantern-Maker's Street is visible behind the alley mouth — crowds of festival-goers, floating lanterns, distant music. But the alley itself is dark, narrow, flanked by high walls. A single red paper lantern sway

Qing He hides in the shadow of a doorway on the left wall. He's been here for some time — waiting. The Crimson Abyss talisman is clutched in his right hand.

The distant festival noise grows slightly louder. Through the alley mouth, Ling Suyin's figure appears in the Lantern-Maker's Street — white robes, black hair pinned with white jade, moving with perfect posture.

Ling Suyin walks deeper into the alley. The red lantern light catches the white jade in her hair. She is exactly twelve steps away from the doorway where Qing He hides. He activates the talisman.

The talisman's white light shoots forward like a spear. Ling Suyin pivots — and cuts it.

First contact — blades meet. The sound is sharp and wrong, like something breaking.

The exchange — fast, brutal, too quick to follow.

Ling Suyin presses forward with a three-strike combination. Qing He barely blocks — and the strain reveals something.

The lantern shatters. Red paper rains down.

In the darkness, Qing He drives his palm strike toward her heart. She twists aside — and for one moment, everything aligns.

The frozen moment holds. Neither moves. Then — something changes.

The shift. Something falls from the sky.

The ribbon catches Ling Suyin's wrist. Her blade jerks sideways.

Qing He reacts — confused, desperate, and seeing an opening.

The qi blast launches — and something catches it.

The blast hits the cobblestones. The impact echoes through the festival like a thunderclap.

They both stare at the golden thread. It is tied around their wrists. It was not there before.

Ling Suyin's reaction — cold fury.

She slashes again. The thread holds.

Through the alley mouth — the festival crowd, and a small old woman.

Qing He and Ling Suyin face each other. The thread connects them. The old woman watches. Neither says what they are thinking.

They fight again.