chest heaving with a breath not yet taken, lian prepares himself for a debate before even getting close to getting sheng to agree. he expects him to refuse fighting with him, either due to finding the younger weak ( with or without the injury ), or simply not deeming him worth his time. the acceptance comes as too much of a surprise, akin to a rug being swept from underneath his feet, or missing a step while going down the stairs. it makes him falter in his stance, steely mask dropping for a few seconds. the confusion is easy to see as he tilts his head, waiting for the other shoe to drop- which does not come. sheng has agreed to spar with him; after what feels like a lifetime, and for what? will he actually do it? will he finally let that anger go, rather than giving him the cold shoulder? is lian finally worth his time, his attention? after years spent being ignored, have both their injuries broken the balance between them? the younger nuwa does not know what to expect, yet knows not to be hopeful, having been burnt too many times to accept this as an olive branch. and although the older had let himself be cared for back in vallarion, lian is sure it was out of necessity, nothing to do with lian himself.
his mouth opens before words fall out, a pause, before they are pursed. opens again. "good." and what else he could say? they are at a stalemate, at the beginning of something about to break. standing upon a lake frosted over, the cracks beginning to spread underneath their feet. lian is much too ready to take the plunge; too strangled by the void, that rather than being stuck here, he is ready to risk the misery, the hell that would follow. "let's go then."
a second more passes as he waits, and when it's clear that he is granted the honor of the first move, he is quick on his feet to jump forward, blade swinging in an arch that he knows will be parried. the force of their swords meeting almost happens in a flash of light, the noise sharp enough to make his ears ring. while lian is normally much more tame, agreeable- there is a spark inside him, a mix of anger and hurt, fear and desperation, manifesting in something self-destructive. a desire for some answers, or anything he can grasp, to know something is changed, to convince himself he isn't stuck here again.
"what made you change your mind?" the words are spoken louder, desiring to be heard against another clash of their swords, lian rusty on his footwork as he dodges the sword swiping at him, quickly backing up, before striking again. "is it father who put you to this?" that's the only other reason he can imagine sheng would agree to this. as they continue, his strike is parried again, but not met with the vehemence that lian knows sheng posessess. he is holding back, yet again. it infuriates lian, unlike ever before. something between a growl and a scream leaves his mouth, as he pushes forward again, sword about to strike. "fight me like the nuwa you are!"