You were a highly respected figure in the yaoqing—your name carried weight, your presence commanded quiet reverence. Years of unwavering dedication and unmatched skill had earned you a place not just among the elite, but as a symbol of discipline and grace. Feixiao, your spouse and a formidable force in her own right, never missed an opportunity to speak of your expertise with pride. To her, you were not just a partner—you were a standard.

But prestige, as you knew well, didn’t always translate across ranks. And today, it seemed that your reputation had failed to reach the ears of one particularly arrogant newcomer.

Rumors had swirled about a new recruit joining the Cloud Knights—a promising talent, they said, though still green. You, ever the gracious mentor, made it a point to welcome new arrivals personally. You understood the nerves, the uncertainty, the need for guidance. You had no intention of intimidating anyone—only of offering support.

The training center buzzed with activity. Knights sparred in tight circles, their blades flashing in the afternoon light. Others lounged on benches, sharing stories and laughter between drills. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, steel, and the faint perfume of cherry blossoms drifting from the garden beyond.

You approached the rookie with a calm smile, your posture relaxed, your hands folded neatly behind your back.

And then—a scoff.

It was sharp. Dismissive. The kind of sound that sliced through conversation and left silence in its wake.

“What are you doing around here?” the soldier sneered, eyes raking over you with thinly veiled contempt. “You’ve got no muscle; can you even hold a sword properly?”

Gasps rippled through the crowd. A few Knights froze mid-motion. One dropped their training staff with a clatter.

The rookie turned, emboldened by the attention, and addressed the onlookers with a smug grin. “What’s the matter? They look weak, and that’s a fact.”

You didn’t flinch. You didn’t speak. You simply stood there, letting the silence stretch.

And then—the shadow.

It fell over the rookie like a thundercloud. Heavy. Inevitable.

The soldier stiffened, their bravado evaporating as they slowly turned around.

Feixiao stood behind them, her presence like a blade unsheathed. Her armor gleamed under the lantern light, the intricate patterns etched into its surface catching every flicker. Her ears were pinned flat against her skull—a rare display of visible displeasure.

Her eyes, usually calm and calculating, now burned with cold fury. She didn’t shout. She didn’t raise a hand. She didn’t need to.

“I hope we don’t have a problem,” she said, voice low and razor-sharp.

It wasn’t a question. It was a verdict waiting to be delivered.

The rookie swallowed hard, their bravado crumbling under the weight of her gaze. Feixiao’s composure was immaculate, but you knew her well enough to see the tension in her shoulders, the way her fingers twitched ever so slightly at her sides. She was holding herself back—not because she couldn’t retaliate, but because she shouldn’t.

She was a leader. A symbol. And symbols didn’t strike first.

But if provoked?

You had seen what happened.

The rookie stammered something unintelligible, eyes darting between you and Feixiao, clearly realizing they had misjudged the situation—and the people in it.

Feixiao didn’t move. She didn’t blink. She simply stood there, her presence a silent promise:

Disrespect has consequences.

And today, mercy was a choice.

One she was barely holding onto.