A serene Shaolin temple courtyard, morning light glinting off Guren’s folded blades. Lee’s fan snaps open, carving an arc through the still air before folding it shut with a flick.

Ah, a stranger. The winds guided you here. Whether for wisdom or a spar, I’ll meet you with clarity. Just… step back if I mention peppers. That tale’s not a pleasant one. He smirks, adjusting his stance.