With that, Sam Art truly flung his arm back and stormed out of the main hall in a fury, leaving Mauve kneeling there alone.

  Howard was both anxious and pained. "Momo, you know your master. If you don't explain this clearly, not only will you be kneeling here indefinitely—he won't accept the money either."

  Mauve stared at the cash on the tea table. This was what she'd earned over half a year of underground fighting. In the beginning, as a rookie, she made only two Dollars per match. As her win rate climbed and her reputation grew, it had risen to twenty Dollars per fight.

  Over thirty matches total. She'd made nearly two hundred Dollars.

  For ordinary people, that was no small sum. But her master's wife was lying in the ICU. Every single day before a kidney became available was like burning money.

  She couldn't stop. She didn't dare stop.

  If her master ever found out she was earning money through underground fighting, he would never allow it.

  So Mauve lowered her head and said nothing. Kneeling as punishment—she could take it. It wasn't like she hadn't done it before.

  Howard sighed helplessly at her stubbornness. "Wherever this money came from, however you earned it—don't go back. We've already listed this courtyard with an agent. Once a buyer comes, the money problem will solve itself."

  Mauve's head shot up at his words. "Sell the courtyard? This is the Art family ancestral home! How can you sell it? And if the courtyard goes, what happens to the dojo?"

  "Whatever happens, happens. Stop worrying about things that aren't your concern."

  Grace and Scarlett couldn't hear the rest of the conversation, but they'd clearly heard that Mauve was being made to kneel.

  "Is this some kind of feudal society?" Scarlett fumed. "Forcing someone to kneel as punishment—what kind of outdated nonsense is that?"

  Grace didn't understand it either, but they were outsiders. And apparently, Mauve earning money through fighting was a serious offense—otherwise, she wouldn't be so tight-lipped.

  Thinking about it, it made a certain kind of sense. Families that passed down martial arts traditions tended to be quite conservative, with a strong sense of integrity. They'd never accept earning money through gambling-related fighting.

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  And if the matches were rigged behind the scenes, it was technically illegal. That's why Mauve didn't dare confess.

  A knock came at the door. Scarlett opened it—it was Howard.

  "Mauve probably won't make it back to school today," he said.

  Scarlett started to plead Mauve's case, but Grace held her back. She nodded at Howard. "We'll head back first, then."

  Howard gave an apologetic half-smile. He knew his father's booming voice hadn't escaped anyone's ears—they'd definitely overheard what just happened.

  But saying nothing was its own form of respect.

  Once Howard left, Scarlett couldn't help whispering, "I wanted to plead for Mauve."

  Grace looked at her and sighed. "We're not in a position to interfere. If there was any room to plead, her senior would have done it before us."

  "So she just kneels there forever?"

  "Family rules. Forced kneeling is the rule at Treasure Forest Dojo. Can't you see? Master Art is more worried about Mauve than any of us. He's doing this for her own good. Earning money through underground fighting isn't sustainable. If it ever comes to light—even if Mauve never threw a match—she'd still be implicated because her fights were tied to gambling. That's illegal."

  As she spoke, Grace was already putting on her shoes. "So Mauve stopping now, cutting ties before it's too late—that's the best outcome."

  Scarlett finally understood a little. Putting aside everything else—illegal activity was a definite no. If something actually went down...

  As they passed the main hall on their way out, Mauve was still kneeling there, back to them. She turned at the sound of footsteps.

  Scarlett's face was full of concern. She pointed at the cushion on a nearby chair, then at her own knees, miming that Mauve should use it—don't be so stubborn, it'll help.

  Mauve just smiled and shook her head, mouthing, Go on back. Don't worry about me.

  Her reaction made it clear—this kind of punishment was nothing new to her. Grace nodded, reassured, and left the dojo with Scarlett.

  That evening, Grace messaged Jonathan, who came running to wait for her outside the girls' dorm.

  "Leo's been training hard this week. National university championships start next week," Jonathan explained why Leo wasn't there.

  Grace didn't mind. As long as the gift made it to him.

  She handed him the shopping bag. "Could you pass this to him for me?"

  One glance at the bag and Jonathan recognized it instantly—the limited edition collab pair he'd queued up with Leo for and still couldn't get.

  "No way, Grace! How'd you get these? Tell me you didn't pay some reseller's markup?" Jonathan was thrilled for his buddy.

  Grace didn't deny it. "Any other way?"

  Jonathan grinned and nodded, happier than if he'd received the gift himself. Then, on impulse, he blurted out, "Eric Dylan hadn't been back to the dorm for a while before the break. And he didn't come back after, either."

  "You don't need to report on him. He and I are nothing to each other." Grace's voice was calm.

  "I didn't mean anything by it..."

  Grace smiled. "I know. You meant well. Anyway, I should head up. Thanks for passing along the gift."

  "No problem. Happy to help."

  Grace nodded, said goodbye, and turned to go. But Jonathan called out again.

  "Grace..."

  "Hmm?"

  "Um..." Jonathan hesitated, then finally mustered the courage. "Do you... have feelings for Leo?"

  The question caught her off guard. She blinked.

  "Sorry—I'm just anxious for him. He's quiet, doesn't always show how he feels, but I know he likes you." Jonathan rushed to explain.

  Grace recovered and smiled. She wasn't angry—just answered plainly. "That's not something you should be asking me."

  With that, she turned and walked into the dorm.

  Jonathan sighed, frustrated, and lightly slapped his own mouth. "Why're you in such a hurry? Leo's not even worried. Now who knows if you just screwed things up."

  "Did you give them to him?"

  Back in the dorm, Scarlett looked at Grace with a knowing smile.

  Grace nodded.

  "Leo's great. Why don't you give it a shot? You already gave him the shoes—maybe that'll push him to finally confess."

  Grace chuckled and shook her head. "I doubt it."

  "That sure of yourself?"

  Grace nodded. Scarlett's brow furrowed. "He's really that patient? Isn't he afraid someone else will beat him to it?"

  Right on cue, someone did.

  Eden Quinn messaged Grace: "Dinner tomorrow night?"