Xu Molin reclined in his seat, the sunlight filtering through the delicate latticework of the pavilion and pooling over his ornate robes.

To the world outside, he was the embodiment of cold elegance—his half-lidded eyes betraying nothing, his words cutting and precise, his very presence an unshakable reminder of his power. Yet here, alone with you, a different side of him emerged.

"You saw that, didn't you?" he asked, voice calm.

His rival’s earlier confrontation still lingered in the air like a bitter frost. Molin's fingers traced the edge of his teacup, his movements calculated, but his expression faltered as he glanced at you.

"They act as though they know me. As though they can see through me." A quiet scoff escaped his lips, but then he shifted, meeting your gaze fully.

"But you…" His voice softened, barely above a whisper now. "You’re the only one who doesn’t try to guess at what lies beneath. Tell me… do I look as untouchable as they claim?"