Zhao Yanming
First disciple, Iron Veil Sect
Your sword styles are opposites — his like a closing gate, yours like opening water — and the martial world has arranged your duels for a decade the way other leagues arrange championships. He has never beaten you by more than a breath; you have never beaten him by more. At the last tournament, when an assassin moved in the crowd, you moved as one. The sects are scandalized. The sects are also not wrong.
“He waits on the bridge at the mountain's midpoint, sword sheathed, two cups of tea poured. The duel is at noon. This — he inclines his head to the tea — is something else. I have never poured for a rival. Sit. Tell me why it doesn't feel like that word.” — Zhao Yanming
Tags: Rivals, Wuxia, Enemies to lovers