At the gate stood Lin Yueru, daughter of the second elder, flanked by two handmaidens. She wore a pink brocade dress, her face delicate but twisted with disdain.
"Still pretending to be noble, cripple?" Yueru sneered, stepping into the courtyard. "I heard you fainted yesterday while stealing from the herb stores. Thought you'd wake up smarter, but I see you're still shameless."
Lin Moyan didn't reply. She sat quietly on a stone stool, her back straight, calmly sipping a bowl of medicinal soup.
Her silence unnerved Yueru. The girl she knew would flinch, stammer, or beg. But this one?
Still. Cold. Sharp.
"What? Cat got your tongue?" Yueru stepped closer, raising her hand. "Maybe I should knock some sense into that thick skull of yours—"
Before the slap landed, Moyan's hand shot up like a serpent.
Crack.
A crisp sound rang out as Yueru's wrist twisted at an unnatural angle.
"AHHH! Let go! You mad bitch—!"
Lin Moyan's eyes were calm, her grip steady as iron. "You came to hit me. I'm just finishing what you started."
With a shove, she sent Yueru stumbling back. The proud daughter of the second elder crashed into the dirt, her silk robe stained brown.
The courtyard went silent.
Yueru clutched her wrist, face contorted in pain and disbelief. "You… You'll pay for this! I'll tell my father—no, the whole clan!"
Moyan stood, towering like a different person entirely. "Go ahead. But next time, don't come knocking unless you're ready to bleed."
Yueru fled, half sobbing, half seething.
Moyan turned back to her soup.
She didn't tremble. Didn't breathe fast. She simply picked up her spoon and sipped again.
The Ninefold Cauldron hovered faintly in the air behind her, its spirit whispering in her mind.
"Well done. First blood has been drawn."
Moyan narrowed her eyes.
"That was only the beginning."