Chapter Twenty-Two
Ping's grip on the wooden sword tightened. Her frustration boiled over, but this time, she didn't let it control her. She took a deep breath, focusing on Ling's stance, the way he moved, the way he studied her like a predator waiting for its prey to make a mistake.
She lunged again, aiming lower this time, trying to catch him off guard.
Ling easily dodged, stepping to the side with minimal effort. "Better," he said, his voice calm. "But predictable."
Ping gritted her teeth.
"Again."
She attacked once more, swinging faster, stronger. He blocked effortlessly, knocking her sword aside.
"You hesitate," he observed. "You're afraid to get hurt."
Ping's heart pounded. "Of course, I am! Unlike you, I don't enjoy fighting!"
Ling tilted his head. "Then why are you trying so hard?"
She opened her mouth to respond but stopped. Why was she trying so hard? To prove she wasn't weak? To prove she deserved to be here? Or was it something else?
Ling studied her expression before stepping back. "Enough for today."
Ping let out a shaky breath, lowering the sword. She was exhausted.
"Mei will tend to you," Ling said before turning away.
Ping watched him go, frustration still burning inside her.
She didn't know what it was about him, but something about this man—this so-called monster—left her feeling unsettled.
And she wasn't sure if it was fear or something else entirely.
Later that night, Ping sat in her chambers, staring at the moonlight filtering through the window. Her body ached from training, but her mind was restless.
She thought about Ling—the way he moved, the way he spoke, the way he looked at her like he saw right through her.
There was a knock on the door.
Ping straightened. "Come in."
Mei entered with a small tray of tea. "My lady, you should rest."
Ping sighed, rubbing her sore arms. "I'm trying."
Mei placed the tray down and hesitated. "The king doesn't train just anyone."
Ping glanced at her. "What do you mean?"
"The king… he doesn't waste time on those he considers weak. If he's training you, it means he sees something in you."
Ping felt a strange warmth in her chest.
But she quickly pushed it aside.
Ling was still an enigma to her. He was strong, unreadable, feared by many. But there was something else beneath that cold exterior.
And for some reason, she wanted to understand it.