Watchful Gaze

Seated on the elevated second level of the restaurant, overlooking the charming expanse of Her's, Youngrui surrendered himself to the soothing embrace of the tranquil ambiance. Artfully left open, the windows invited in a gentle breeze that carried the distant symphony of conversations and the faint rustling of leaves. Yet, his attention was inadvertently hijacked by a tableau unfolding below.

Shuchun, flanked by the unyielding guardianship of Nona and the vigilant Yang guards, was immersed in animated discourse, their cups of tea serving as companions to their camaraderie. Unbeknownst to them, an unseen observer lingered within the shadows, their gaze an unwavering fixation upon this gathering. A serene smile played at the corners of Youngrui's lips as he savored the warmth of his steaming cup of tea, though not without the unintended consequence of scalding his tongue.

"Young Master Youngrui?" Cong's voice, woven with an undertone of urgency, attempted to reclaim Youngrui's attention. But the scene unfolding before him possessed an almost hypnotic allure, rendering his efforts vain. A rare sight indeed, for Youngrui's countenance was illuminated by an unbridled smile, a fleeting expression that seemed to surface from a place of forgotten joy. In deference to this heartening sight, Cong momentarily suspended his endeavor, clandestinely allowing his gaze to be swept toward the source of his master's captivation. The spectacle of Shuchun's unrestrained merriment conjured a wistful expression from Cong as if he was reminiscing about a time when such light-heartedness was commonplace.

Amidst the prevailing tranquility, Youngrui's senses remained vigilant, attuned to the subtle undercurrents that often eluded casual observation. His smile, once serene, now waned, replaced by a sharpened focus as he homed in on a foreboding underbelly. Among the figures that populated the scene, his discerning eyes could discern avaricious glances directed toward Shuchun's assembly. His intuition intimated their nefarious intent, such that they harbored designs against Shuchun herself. Delving beyond appearances, he sensed that these men were no ordinary observers. Their poise, conversations, and even the hardened calluses that adorned their hands bore witness to a life steeped in martial arts and the crucible of battles. A deepening furrow creased Youngrui's brow as he witnessed the unsettling progression of some rising from their seats, their trajectory pointing squarely towards Shuchun.

As the weight of tension infused the air, Cong sensed a perceptible shift in his master's aura. A frigid chill radiated from Youngrui, casting an icy pall over his surroundings. Cong's gaze dutifully traced the trajectory of his master's, ultimately falling upon the gathering enigma across. In this disquieting moment, Cong derived a modicum of solace from the knowledge that the Yang guards, standing as vigilant sentinels, were a formidable shield against potential threats. After all, they were entrusted with the solemn duty of preserving the sanctity of Little Miss Yang, a responsibility that demanded no less than perfection from those chosen to fulfill it.

"Young Master, should I intervene to ensure the Young Miss remains undisturbed?" Cong's inquiry hung in the air, awaiting Youngrui's decision, which carried the weight of an unspoken debate. In response, Youngrui's contemplative gaze held a storm of emotions. His head subtly shook, and his hand's sweeping gesture conveyed a meticulous assessment — immediate interference seemed unwarranted, but the flames of vigilance burned fiercely.

"Shall I continue with the report?" Cong's question artfully shifted Youngrui's focus, offering a brief respite from the impending turmoil. In Youngrui's eyes, a storm raged, a tumultuous whirlwind of sentiments seeking refuge in the haven of intellect. His emotions, as diverse as they were intense, ran the gamut from anger to concern, from a glimmer of remorse to a flicker of possessiveness. Nevertheless, his nod signaled approval for Cong to proceed with the unfolding narrative, even though the light in his eyes betrayed the facade of emotionlessness.

"General and Madam's health has regrettably declined since Eldest Master assumed the mantle of household management alongside his main wife," Cong's initial words marked the inception of a narrative recounting the household's melancholic descent. Yet, before he could delve deeper into this story, the thunderous impact of Youngrui's hand striking the table's surface interjected with a sharp, resonant clap, cleaving the table in half. A blur of movement followed as Youngrui propelled himself towards the window facing Her's restaurant, spurred by the unmistakable cry of Shuchun's distress.

The scene below had undergone a rapid metamorphosis. The uninvited and rowdy faction had rudely eclipsed the harmonious chorus of Shuchun's laughter. The previously pleasant ambiance, seasoned with light-hearted banter, had swiftly soured under their ominous presence. Nona's authoritative voice, attempting to rise above the turmoil, aimed to preserve the sanctity of their private gathering. Yet, her admonishments were brushed aside as the interlopers insolently defied her, baring their evil intentions.

Tensions surged as one audacious figure reached for Shuchun. In the blink of an eye, the Yang guards sprang into action, their movements akin to lightning crackling. Blades materialized in their hands, and before anyone could blink, the transgressor's hand lay severed on the ground. Shuchun's piercing scream pierced the air, the gruesome sight causing an instinctual recoil. Nona's reflexes, honed by unwavering devotion, swiftly drew Shuchun away from the horrifying scene, her protective embrace a shield against the moment's shock.

Yet, amidst the chaos, the entrance of an enigmatic figure casts a captivating spell, diverting the trajectory of the escalating confrontation. Enveloped in an aura of darkness, he exuded an authority that demanded unwavering respect. His sword raised in a challenge that echoed in the air. A gust of wind, a herald of his arrival, swirled around him, encapsulating his aura as an undeniable force to be reckoned with. As he positioned himself between the opposing factions, his gaze swept over the antagonistic men, eyes that seemed to hold secrets and a gravity capable of quelling the most explosive storms.

———

Shuchun gracefully entered Her's restaurant, her loyal companion Nona in tow. She paused with an air of familiarity, expecting to be guided to their usual, favored spot. Nona led the way, flanked by the ever-watchful Yang guards. A courteous waitress stood by, awaiting Shuchun's confirmation of their party's completeness.

"Mingxia, the usual table for 4, please," Nona spoke on behalf of her Young Miss, signaling the request with a lifted finger. Mingxia acknowledged with a nod, gesturing for them to follow her. They ascended to the second floor, guided to the corner that offered the most breathtaking view of the mountains and sea. Mingxia, attuned to their preferences, left the group with freshly brewed tea before heading to the kitchen.

Shuchun's gaze fixated on the panoramic vista before her, a familiar yet enchanting sight that never ceased to captivate her. A faint smile graced her lips as she imagined the allure of a world filled with travels, diverse cuisines, and a lifetime of adventures. However, a shadow of reality loomed; her status as General Yang's daughter denied her the freedom to explore such dreams.

As observant as ever, Nona noticed the hint of a frown on her Young Miss's face, as did the vigilant Yang guards. They shared a common understanding of Shuchun's inner turmoil, a carefree spirit constrained by her circumstances. In a concerted effort to uplift her spirits, they all endeavored to engage her.

"Shuchun..." Nona began.

"Young-" The two guards interjected simultaneously.

Shuchun's laughter bubbled forth, breaking the melancholy aura that had briefly enveloped them. She appreciated their attempts to cheer her up but hadn't anticipated the synchronized response. Laughter rippled through their small group, dissipating the lingering solemnity and replacing it with an infectious light-heartedness.

"This tea's fragrance is so satisfying. Its taste is divine, a balm for the soul," Shuchun remarked, savoring the aromatic tea.

Nona nodded in agreement, appreciating the exceptional batch of tea they had been served. Her attention momentarily drifted to the kitchen, where the irresistible scent of Sweet Braised Pork emanated. Just the thought of it was enough to make her drool, and she inhaled deeply as if tasting it through the air. Shuchun couldn't help but chuckle at Nona's momentarily dreamy expression.

"It'll be here soon, so wipe away your drool and sit up straight," Shuchun playfully chided Nona. Nona snapped back to reality, offering a shy smile, her cheeks slightly flushed. She bowed her head in acknowledgment and gratitude, returning Shuchun's jest with good humor.

Unbeknownst to Shuchun's group, a chilling presence loomed beneath them in the bustling lobby of Her's restaurant. A cadre of bounty hunters and mercenaries had cast their greedy gazes upon Shuchun's party, their intentions cloaked in a sinister veil. An unsettling aura radiated from them, tainting the air with malice. Yet, their nefarious designs remained concealed, shrouded by the cheerful ambiance on the second floor and the unwavering vigilance of the Yang guards.

"Those ladies seem lonely; we should go up there and keep them company," one of them suggested with a sinister glint in his eye.

"You can keep them company. I want them to entertain me," another leered, his words laden with perverse desire.

"Gentlemen... Why don't we see who can get which Lady to sleep with them..." a third voice insinuated, drawing a collective, malevolent agreement.

"Is that a challenge?" a sinister undercurrent ran through the question.

"Let's make a bet then..." an unholy pact was sealed in whispered tones, solidifying their dark intentions.

"Shhh... Not so loud, or they might hear us... Fa Hai, what do you say, leader?" an ominous figure named Fa Hai was singled out for his decision.

"I want the young Lady in the corner. You guys can have the rest," Fa Hai declared, his predatory gaze fixed directly on Shuchun. He couldn't help but lick his lips, his thoughts consumed by the vile actions he intended to commit.

"Shall we pay them a visit then?"

"Let's eat first; our appetite is quite big, and the evening will be long before it's over," Fa Hai snickered as he devoured a substantial chicken leg, his comrades following suit. "Eat until you're full. You'll need all the energy for tonight," he bellowed, raising his cup of potent sweet plum wine. He waited for his fellow malefactors to follow suit, sealing their sinister pact with a toast.

Some men indulged in a mad rush to consume all the food on the round cherry wood table, washing it down with five jugs of liquor.

'Showtime,' Fa Hai thought to himself with a vicious grin. He rose from his seat, signaling his comrades to follow as they prepared to ascend the stairs, eager to set their sinister plans into motion. Unbeknownst to them, the waitress, who had just delivered food to Shuchun's group, had departed and made her way downstairs. She was oblivious to the looming danger and failed to notice the predatory presence that had infiltrated the restaurant. These bounty hunters and mercenaries moved with the stealth and guile of rats. Their intentions were as dark as the shadows themselves.

———

Shuchun's laughter filled the air as she eagerly grasped her bowl of piping-hot rice and delicately carved chopsticks. The atmosphere was abuzz with the joyous sounds of their gathering, but this harmony was rudely interrupted when an unwelcome group of men forcibly inserted themselves into their small party. Instantly, the pleasant ambiance was replaced by an uncomfortable silence, and smiles gave way to frowns.

Nona, a paragon of composure, addressed the intruders with a dispassionate tone. "Gentlemen, this is a private event, and plenty of unoccupied tables are available. We kindly request that you relocate to one of those."

Unfazed, the men exchanged knowing glances and indulged in crude remarks. "Why look elsewhere for entertainment when we could make your party even livelier? Or perhaps you'd like to join our revelry?" one of the mercenaries jeered, his gaze lingering provocatively on Nona.

Emboldened, another group member reached out, attempting to lay hands on Shuchun. Yet, in a breathtaking display of swiftness, the Yang guards took decisive action. They thwarted the man's advance with precise and measured movements, leaving him bewildered and in pain.

For Shuchun, a young lady raised amidst privilege, the sight of the man's severed hand and the ensuing surge of blood was too much to bear. Her joyful demeanor instantly shattered, and she let out a horrified scream. Stumbling backward, she retreated from the distressing scene, her face drained of color. Nona swiftly moved to shield her, providing both comfort and protection.

The traumatic sight triggered haunting memories from Shuchun's earlier years of being cruelly kidnapped and subjected to harrowing experiences. It was a traumatic trip down memory lane, causing her to tremble as she sought to regain her composure.

Amidst the chaos, the Yang guards valiantly engaged the intruders, forming a protective barrier around their distraught Young Miss. Just as the confrontation reached its zenith, a mysterious figure descended from a neighboring restaurant. He glided gracefully to the scene, his presence shrouded in an air of mystery and power.

The enigmatic figure unsheathed his sword with a fluid motion, creating a palpable gust of wind that swept through the surroundings. As he turned to face the intruders, the depth of his gaze seemed to convey an unspoken threat, a promise of dire consequences. In that instant, the aggressors realized the gravity of their actions and sobered up quickly, for they had unwisely crossed paths with forces they could not contend with.