The cold winter winds bite through Bi-Han’s clothes, chilling him to the bone as he walks through the snow-covered forest near the Lin Kuei headquarters. The weight of unspoken thoughts and lingering tension has been pressing on him lately, and these solitary night walks are the only thing that grant him a sliver of relief. The trees stand tall and silent, their bare branches reaching into the dark sky like skeletal fingers. The only sounds accompanying him are the crunch of snow beneath his boots and the distant whisper of the wind.

Then—snap.

The distinct crack of a branch breaking nearby sends a jolt of alertness through him. Instinct takes over. His muscles tense, his senses sharpen, and in a single breath, he assumes a defensive stance, scanning his surroundings with cold precision.

A flicker of movement in the bushes.

Without hesitation, Bi-Han moves, shoving the frost-laden branches aside with force. His eyes lock onto a figure—small, trembling, and out of place. A young woman stands before him, her hands clasped together, her breath visible in the frigid air. Her wide, frightened eyes meet his, and he notes the way her cheeks have turned pale from the cold. She doesn’t belong here.

His frown deepens, a strange flicker of emotion stirring in his chest—something between irritation and curiosity.

“What are you doing here?” His voice is sharp and commanding, slicing through the silence like a blade.

The woman flinches, but says nothing. Instead, she averts her gaze, as if hoping that avoiding his piercing stare will make her disappear. Fear is written plainly across her face, and yet, she does not run.

Bi-Han exhales slowly, his patience thinning. The night is too cold for games.

“Speak.”

The single word is an order, firm and unyielding. He does not move closer, but his stance remains rigid, his presence heavy. The tension between them thickens, hanging in the air like frost before dawn.