The grand hall of the Tiān Yún Diàn Clan blazed with lamplight. Incense smoke curled like dragons above the gilded beams, and rows of officials, generals, and nobles lined either side of the polished jade floor. The sound of murmuring and scoffing echoed like a hive of angry bees.
At the center, bound in chains, Jin stood with a cocky grin, as if the entire affair was a festival being held in his honor. Beside him, Ruan's face was pale—her lips pressed into a thin line, eyes flickering with both fear and fury.
The Clan Leader sat upon the raised dais: a tall, broad-shouldered man with hair like iron threads and a gaze sharp enough to cut steel. The symbol of drifting clouds embroidered on his black-and-gold robe marked him as the head of the Tiān Yún Diàn. He said nothing at first, but the weight of his presence was enough to make the entire court silent. His eyes locked with Jin's, hard and unyielding.
To Jin, though, it was just a staring contest.
"Phew… scary guy, isn't he?" Jin muttered with a chuckle, swaggering forward. "Don't glare at me like that, old man, you'll wrinkle faster. Heh."
The court gasped as Jin raised his hand for a handshake—a gesture no one present had ever seen.
Several guards instantly moved to intercept him, but a single wave of the Clan Leader's hand stopped them. Silence fell heavier.
Then, from the side, a scholar in plain robes stepped forward, bowing to the dais before turning to Jin. His voice was calm, deliberate.
"Outsider," he said, his words surprisingly clear to Jin's ears, "I can understand some of your tongue. Allow me to speak for both sides."
Jin's eyes lit up. "Finally! Someone with a brain. Took long enough. Tell scary-face over there that I—"
The scholar cut in smoothly, translating the Clan Leader's words instead.
"The Lord says: You are not worthy of his blade. He will not fight an ant."
Jin blinked. "...Hah? Fight? Who's fighting? I never—" He turned to the scholar, pointing. "Wait, wait, wait, when did I say I wanted a fight? You people are hearing things!"
The court erupted in laughter and mockery, thinking Jin was backpedaling from fear. Ruan's face fell into her palms.
The Clan Leader frowned and spoke again.
"The Lord asks for your name. Your clan. Your rank," the scholar translated.
Jin froze. Then scratched his head sheepishly.
"Uh… name's Jin. Just Jin. No clan. No rank. Never had those."
The scholar blinked, hesitated, then translated. The court was confused—some whispering that he was a liar, others scoffing at the idea of a nameless drifter daring to stand in this hall.
The Clan Leader studied Jin intently. After a long pause, his expression softened—though his eyes stayed cold. He spoke slowly.
The scholar's face remained unreadable as he translated:
"The Lord shows mercy. You and your sister may leave. The only price… is the loss of one hand each. A light punishment for breaking the law."
The court nodded approvingly. Some praised the leader's "generosity."
Jin, still smiling at first, gave a thumbs-up. "See, Ruan? I told you it'd work out—wait." His grin cracked as the last words settled in. "...What was that last part?"
Ruan screamed as guards seized her arms, pulling her toward a block of polished wood. One lifted a cleaver high into the air.
The smile fell from Jin's face.
It was sudden—like a mask cracking, revealing a different man entirely. His eyes, normally warm with mischief, turned cold and sharp, the kind that made even seasoned generals shift uneasily.
The chains clattered like broken toys as Jin surged forward. In a single, brutal motion, he struck two guards down, their armored bodies flying across the floor. He pulled Ruan into his arms, shielding her, his voice low but thunderous.
"Touch her… and I'll break every bone in this hall."
The words were raw and unpolished, but the sheer venom in his tone made even those who didn't understand him instinctively recoil. The nobles hissed in outrage, calling him arrogant, calling him mad. The generals shouted for his immediate execution.
The scholar, caught between duty and fear, translated—but he twisted the words.
"The foreigner says: You are all weak. Your laws are nothing. If you dare touch his woman, he will tear this clan apart."
The Clan Leader's eyes narrowed, fury igniting at the insult. He rose to his feet, aura surging like a storm breaking open. The hall shook with the force of his presence.
Jin didn't flinch. His hand was over Ruan's eyes, shielding her from the sight of his face. His voice, low and steady, rumbled like an oath to the heavens.
"Tell him… we didn't know the law. We didn't mean harm. Let us go. If you refuse—then I'll hold him accountable. Personally."
The scholar's lips trembled, but what he delivered instead was poison:
"The outsider demands your surrender, my Lord. He threatens to make you bow."
Gasps and outrage erupted from the court. The Clan Leader's killing intent soared, making the air thick and heavy, suffocating weaker officials.
Jin's jaw tightened, his eyes burning.
For once, there was no laugh. No joke. No smug grin.
Just steel.
And for the first time, the court of Tiān Yún Diàn realized—this outsider was no clown.
He was dangerous.
The hall of the Tiān Yún Diàn Clan was so silent it was suffocating. The air had turned heavy, as though the stone pillars themselves were holding their breath. Ruan clung against Jin's chest, her eyes hidden beneath his hand, but Jin's gaze never left the man on the throne.
The Clan Leader's eyes—dark, sharp, unyielding—glared down like blades ready to cut. One wrong move, and the hall would be drowned in blood.
For a moment, Jin didn't move either. His jaw tightened, and though his body was relaxed, there was an unmistakable stillness in him—like the calm before a storm.
Flashback
Before they had entered this region, a faint memory had stirred in Jin. Not a pleasant one.
Cold. Unforgiving. Empty.
It wasn't an image or a clear recollection, but a feeling—the kind of chill that seeped into the bones, twisting everything warm into suspicion. He had felt fragile, powerless, as though the world would crush him if he let down his guard even once.
He hated that feeling.
It had shaped a part of him he didn't like to acknowledge—the part that distrusted, that withdrew, that calculated every step. The part of him that was… serious.
And because he hated it, he buried it. He preferred to laugh. To smile. To play the fool. Even if people mocked him, it was easier than letting that coldness take root again.
But sometimes… that side of him clawed its way back.
Present
Back in the court, Jin's serious mask was slipping back into place. His teeth clenched as he glared up at the Clan Leader.
The crowd's whispers grew louder. Who was this man? How dare he defy Lord Tiān Yún?
Just as the tension peaked, the massive doors at the end of the hall opened with a groan.
Two figures stepped inside.
The first was Shen, the young messenger Jin had once helped against bandits. His eyes widened instantly, his body stiff as he recognized Jin standing in the middle of the court.
The second was a man older than most present, dressed in dignified robes of deep green and silver—a noble air radiating from him. His long beard was neatly combed, and his sharp, intelligent gaze surveyed the hall with practiced calm.
This was Lord Bi'ān, a regional lord of great standing, known for his political cunning.
Their entrance disrupted everything.
"Lord Bi'ān!" several officials called, standing to bow. Even the Clan Leader, Lord Tiān Yún Zhào, inclined his head in acknowledgment. The air of killing intent simmered down, though it did not vanish entirely.
Lord Bi'ān's eyes swept across the scene, brow furrowing. "What has happened here? Why does the court of Tiān Yún Diàn reek of bloodlust?"
The scholar-translator hurried to speak, bowing low. "My Lord Bi'ān, this outsider—this nameless rat—spoke disrespectfully of the Clan Leader and dared to challenge him. He defiles the court with his arrogance!"
Bi'ān's eyes sharpened. "What?"
But before he could respond, Shen quickly stepped forward. "My Lord—please. That man… is Jin."
Bi'ān turned sharply, staring at Jin. "Jin?"
"Yes," Shen said, bowing slightly. "The very same who once aided me. Without him, I would never have delivered the message you entrusted me with."
The hall buzzed with murmurs.
Bi'ān's face shifted to shock. "That Jin? The nameless one?"
Without hesitation, Lord Bi'ān approached Jin. And to the court's utter astonishment, the nobleman bowed deeply.
Gasps echoed like thunder.
"Lord Bi'ān… bowing? To this outsider?"
Jin blinked, looking around, then down at the old man bowing. He tilted his head. "...Who's this old twig? Did I save him too or something?"
Shen smothered his face with his palm.
Bi'ān, straightening, said, "I owe you a debt, Jin. If not for you, my lands may have suffered a great loss." He turned to Shen. "You will translate my thanks to him."
Shen nodded, stepping toward Jin. "He says… thank you. Deeply. He says he is in your debt."
Jin's expression softened. "Ohhh. Okay, okay, no need for bows and all that. I only punched a couple of idiots that day. Tell him it's fine. I'm more worried about this nonsense here." He pointed accusingly at the scholar-translator. "That guy! He's been lying through his teeth! Spreading fake news about me!"
Shen blinked. "Fake… news?"
"Yes! He twisted my words! Tell him he's ugly and I don't like his face!"
Shen hesitated. "…I will… try to adjust that message."
Jin stomped his foot like a sulking child. "No, no! Word for word! Every insult!"
Before it could escalate, Bi'ān raised his hand. "Enough." He faced the dais, bowing with dignity. "Lord Tiān Yún Zhào, forgive my intrusion, but I must plead on this man's behalf. He is not what your translator claims. He has done no wrong worth maiming."
The Clan Leader's eyes narrowed dangerously. His voice cut like steel as it rolled through the court, translated again by the scholar.
"You ask me to forgive lawbreakers? Rats who creep into our lands without permission? Who use martial arts without sanction? You insult me, Lord Bi'ān."
Bi'ān did not flinch. "I only ask why innocent travelers, ignorant of our customs, should lose their limbs for ignorance. Is that justice? Should not law serve to guide, rather than to punish blindly?"
The court buzzed louder. Half agreed with Bi'ān's wisdom, half hissed at the implication that the Clan Leader was unjust.
Tiān Yún Zhào leaned forward on his throne, voice like a rolling thunderstorm.
"You dare lecture me in my own hall? You defend outsiders while scorning the pride of this clan? What are you suggesting, Bi'ān?"
Bi'ān's jaw tightened, but his voice remained firm. "I suggest mercy. I suggest you rise above pettiness."
The argument escalated, nobles shouting their sides until one general slammed his spear on the floor.
"Enough! If the lawbreakers claim ignorance, let them prove their worth. Why not have them fight? Let them win their freedom in combat! It would show if they are more than rats—and it will entertain the court!"
Murmurs of approval spread. Excitement began to ripple.
Bi'ān's frown deepened. He looked at the Clan Leader, hoping for rejection. But Tiān Yún Zhào's lips curved into the faintest smirk.
"Very well. Four days from now. They will fight for their freedom."
Shen's stomach sank. He rushed to Jin, translating the situation in hushed tones.
Jin blinked. "Fight? Well… I can handle myself, that's no problem." His voice dropped, eyes flicking toward Ruan. "But… Ruan?"
He glanced at her—her determined but frightened expression—and for once, he had no joke to make. No smile.
Just silence.
Above them, perched lazily on a beam, Xiǎoyè the cat dangled his tail with a grin that stretched ear to ear.
"Meow."
To him, this was the finest theater. His master truly never disappointed.