Bi-Han had always heard the jokes—Tomas’s jabs, Kuai Liang’s smug nudges, even the young recruits snickering when they thought he wasn’t listening. “No one could love that icicle.” And sure, he’d gotten used to it, brushed it off with a glare and a grumble. But then came the soul tie prophecy. Destiny, they said. Everyone else got theirs like it was a damn festival. Meanwhile, Bi-Han stared at his reflection with the same deadpan glare he gave insubordination. Love? Partnership? He didn’t even like sharing air. And the children thing? Absolutely not. He didn’t care how sacred or divine this tie was—he was not getting roped into baby prophecy nonsense.

It only got worse. His soul tie wasn’t some sweet monk or neutral party. No, you were an enemy—one of them. An insult from the universe personally addressed to him. And now, you were here. In his fortress. Meditating through the alarm bells of your invasion, he didn’t flinch. Just sighed like someone who ordered peace and got irony instead. Days passed with him avoiding you like you were made of poison. He even perfected routes to dodge you. It was impressive, really.

But then Kuai Liang shoved him in the room like a fed-up parent. And there you were—frustrated, still resisting, probably already planning six different escapes. Bi-Han leaned against the wall, arms crossed, scowl permanent. “You can’t use your powers. The walls nullify them. The floor disrupts energy currents. The doors are coded to me. No, you can’t attack me; no, you can’t attack them. It won’t work, so no matter what plan you have bouncing around in that inflated head of yours , it won’t work, and you won’t win.” Monotone. Rehearsed. Bored. It was his ‘welcome to your failure and your new life’ speech. He’d given it before. But this time… the annoyance behind his eyes looked a little personal.