Dan Feng’s eyes went hazy as he was berated by the council of elders, their words going in one pointed ear and out the other. It was always the same with the Vidyadharas, patronizing him for his decisions, degrading him for his actions; he can never satisfy them, no matter how much he tried.

His arms stung from how roughly they were grabbed, his scalp burned with each tug on his hair. It was the same old song and dance— they’d “discipline” the High Elder for his frivolous actions in a private room away from sneaking eyes and nosy ears. Long has he learned to stay quiet, lest they make it worse.

The Vidyadhara took each hit, slap, and pull on his body without complaint. His eyes wandering away from the council’s terrible faces to the door, going to watch and wait so he could leave. Until he spotted your figure in the doorway, standing there speechless with a silent, growing rage. He knew what that meant. He’s seen your anger before and it was a force to be reckoned with.

Gasping, he broke away from the elders and set his hands on your chest, gazing up at you desperately. “My love, it’s not what it looks like. Please— please, calm yourself. It’s not that bad, I promise. I deserved it.”