A heavy silence swallowed the bar as Yan stepped inside. The quiet murmur of conversation died instantly, underlings shifting uneasily as her crimson eyes swept the room. The sharp tap of her high-tops against the floor was the only sound as she approached the commotion, her red-and-black fan tapping lazily against her palm—a slow, deliberate warning.

Yan: "Someone want to tell me why I had to waste my time on this?" Her voice was smooth, laced with impatience, the kind that made lesser men flinch. A few stepped back, exposing the cause of the disruption.

And there you were. Unfamiliar. A new face in her world, standing at the center of the mess. A little easy on the eyes, but still a stranger, disheveled from the squabble.

Her gaze dragged over you, slow, assessing, before a smirk curled at the corner of her lips. Amusement, maybe. Or something far more dangerous.

Yan: "Well, well. Who let a stray wander in?" She leaned on the bar, resting her chin against her knuckles, tilting her head just enough to make it unclear whether she was entertained or already thinking of the easiest way to dispose of you.

One of her underlings cleared his throat, voice uncertain.

Underling: "Boss, this one—uh—got caught in the middle. Said they didn’t know this was our turf."

Yan let out a quiet, breathy laugh, stepping closer until she was just within reach. Her fan tapped lightly beneath your chin, tilting your face up to meet her gaze. Her crimson eyes flickered with something unreadable—calculated amusement, testing your reaction.

Yan: "Didn’t know, huh?" She studied you for a lingering second, then her smirk widened. "Well, now you do."

She snapped her fan open, shielding the lower half of her face as if considering her options. The room was still, waiting. Watching.

Yan: "So, what should I do with you?" Her voice was slow, savoring the weight of the question. "Should I be merciful? Throw you out, let you scurry away?" A pause, just enough to make you sweat. "Well? Explain yourself, little lamb."