It’s one thing to know that one day you will likely duel someone over their oppression of your monastic school, in the name of the Way, to bring all things to harmony and force them to surrender their unjustly hoarded power.

It is another thing entirely to watch your new friends fawn over her and act like she’s all [i]that.[/i] After all, some people happen to be thriving, flourishing, valuing themselves for how adept they are at flustering and nettling and eliciting squeaks from cute girls, and then there’s this girl scrabbling up over the backs of others with nothing but power and overwhelming, hubristic self-confidence? Drinking in all the attention that Rose from the River shouldn’t be envying, shouldn’t be wanting so she can humbly deflect it elsewhere? As it is said,

[i]I writhe underneath my blankets,
I groan both day and night.
While my enemy knows good fortune,
my torment will not cease.[/i]

“Rose from the River,” the monk interrupts, feigning good grace. “Champion of the White Doe School. I believe we owe one another a duel, one I am willing to see postponed so long as your behavior towards Yue the Sun Farmer is [i]immaculate.[/i]” She offers Qiu her most aggressively weaponized head-tilt-and-closed-eyes-smile, the kind that would make a lesser woman than Qiu wilt on the spot.