The Tower’s Reckoning

The snow pounded against the carriage windows in heavy, relentless sheets, a swirling curtain of white that blurred the edges of the Tianhua capital.

Han Jin sat within, legs sprawled with lazy elegance, the flickering lanternlight painting golden streaks across his sharp features. His black-and-gold robes pooled around him, a deliberate display of excess. He idly traced a finger along the silver filigree on the wine flask in his hand, his lips curved into a fox's grin.

The carriage rattled through the icy streets, where bundled merchants huddled beneath awnings, their breaths rising in plumes of frost.

Guards clutched their spears tighter, their eyes narrowed against the cold.

Ahead, the Jade Phoenix Tower pierced the storm—a monolith of polished stone and amber-tinted glass that glimmered like a beacon. Its seventh floor, reserved for the empire's gilded few, promised warmth, wine, and the sweet perfume of power games.

Han Jin's eyes glimmered with mischief as he turned to the hulking figure beside him.

"Uncle Guan," he drawled, voice lilting with mock curiosity, "think they'll be on their knees again? Or should I remind Wei Kang which ribs crack easiest?"

Guan Tao, a mountain of scarred muscle and quiet menace, merely grunted. The notched axe resting across his knees gleamed in the dim light.

His calloused fingers tightened briefly on the shaft, and his lips twitched in the faintest of smirks—a rare crack in his stoic mask.

"He'd be a fool not to, Third Young Master. Your father's shadow could crush his entire house with a whisper." His voice was a gravel-rough murmur. "But the prince—royal games cut deeper than steel."

A chime echoed in Han Jin's mind, cold and clear like a shard of crystal striking jade. His vision flickered, and a translucent screen bloomed before his eyes, unseen by all but him:

[Awe from Guan Tao detected. +10 Points. Current Total: 20.]

The Dominance System stirred awake, its voice a soft, insidious whisper in his mind: "Their reverence fuels your rise."

Han Jin's grin widened, a predator savoring the taste of blood.

This power—the glorious cheat he had acquired upon transmigrating into this world—was more delightful than he could have hoped. His enemies' fury, their grudging respect, and even their simmering envy—all of it was his to harvest.

The carriage lurched to a stop. With a languid stretch, Han Jin stepped out, his boots crunching into the snow.

The icy wind tugged at his robes, but he strolled forward as if the weather itself bent to his will. His silk cloak billowed behind him—a storm of black and gold against the pale haze. Behind him, Guan Tao followed, a grim shadow whose steps thudded with deliberate menace.

They ascended the tower's spiraling steps, where the stone gradually grew warmer underfoot. By the time they reached the seventh floor, the scent of spiced wine and roasted meat clung thick in the air.

The lacquered doors swung wide, revealing a chamber of shameless opulence.

Jade tables sagged under the weight of glazed duck, broiled fish, and saffron-flecked rice. Wine vessels and gold goblets gleamed in the amber light of countless lanterns.

Tapestries of phoenixes in flight adorned the walls, their crimson feathers seemingly alive in the brazier's glow. The room was a cocoon of heat and excess, a stark contrast to the frozen city below.

At the chamber's heart stood two men, poised like players on a blood-soaked chessboard.

Wei Kang, heir to Lord Wei, slouched near the window, his gaudy green tunic a jarring splash of color against the wintry backdrop. The bruises marring his jaw—a gift from Han Jin's guards—had darkened to sickly yellow. His knuckles were white against the jade flask trembling in his grip.

Beside him, Tian Li, the Fourth Prince, lounged on a pile of furs. Draped in violet silk, he was all languid grace and sharp-eyed amusement. His slender fingers toyed with a silver goblet, and his smile was the polished edge of a courtier's dagger—charming but deadly.

"Han Jin!"

Tian Li's voice carried the warmth of old friends and the bite of subtle mockery. He rose with a flourish, arms wide in mock welcome.

"You deign to grace us at last! The wine's been warmed twice over, and the duck's nearly wept for your absence."

Han Jin tossed his cloak to a hovering servant with casual disdain, sauntering in as if reclaiming his personal court. His smile was a slow, wicked curve.

"Good wine deserves patience, Highness. Why rush pleasure when I can savor your anticipation?"

[Amusement from Tian Li detected. +5 Points. Current Total: 25.]

The system's chime was a pleasing note in his mind—a tally ticking higher with each flicker of interest, each shred of tension.

Tian Li chuckled softly, gesturing to the cushioned seat beside him.

"Sit, then. Lest we waste more firewood on your tardiness." His eyes glimmered with calculation beneath the veil of camaraderie.

Han Jin made no haste. He let his movements stretch, deliberate and unhurried, his gaze flicking briefly toward Wei Kang. The heir stiffened, fingers tightening around the flask.

Wei Kang stepped forward at last, his face a mask of forced humility.

"Young Master Han…" His voice cracked faintly. "I… regret our last meeting. A misstep. Foolishness." He thrust the jade flask forward, the stone trembling faintly in his grip. "Let this wine wash it clean."

Han Jin plucked the flask from his hand with deliberate nonchalance, twirling it between his fingers as if appraising a bauble.

"A misstep, you say?"

His voice was a purr of mock consideration. With a languid motion, he poured the wine into his cup, the amber liquid catching the light.

"I seem to recall your tongue flapping insults until my guards taught it some manners. Like a yapping mutt silenced by a boot—ring any bells?"

He downed the wine in a single, theatrical gulp, then slammed the cup onto the table with a smirk sharp enough to draw blood.

"Tastes sweeter when you grovel, Wei Kang. You should bottle that."

[Anger from Wei Kang detected. +15 Points. Total: 40.]

The system's chime was almost musical, and Han Jin bit back a laugh. Stirring this fool was child's play.

Wei Kang's fists curled at his sides, his face darkening with fury. His hand twitched toward the dagger at his belt.

"You insolent—"

"Enough!" Tian Li's voice cut through, as smooth as silk but edged with steel. His smile held, but his eyes gleamed with warning.

"Stay your barbs, both of you."

He strode forward, his violet robes trailing behind him like a royal banner.

"The empire thrives when its sons stand as one, not tearing at each other like dogs."

His gaze flicked toward Han Jin, and his smile sharpened. "Your father's reach is vast, but Wei Kang's western trade routes grease the realm's wheels. Worth a thought, no?"

Han Jin leaned back in his chair, the picture of languid defiance. His grin turned feral.

"Worth it until it's not, Highness. Lord Wei's house is a husk—a name clinging to faded glory. My father could buy those trade routes with the dust from his vaults."

[Envy from Wei Kang detected. +10 Points. Total: 50.]

The heir's face blazed with fury, his hand tightening around his dagger.

"Peace!" Tian Li's voice cracked through the tension, his goblet clinking sharply against the table. His gaze lingered on Han Jin, a glimmer of intrigue beneath the mirth.

Han Jin's eyes gleamed as he raised his cup in mock reverence. "To peace, then. And may Wei Kang's spine prove as swift as his apologies."

[Amusement from Tian Li detected. +5 Points. Total: 55.]

The wine flowed freely, but Han Jin's gaze never strayed far from the storm brewing in Wei Kang's eyes or the calculating glimmer behind Tian Li's smile. Let them scheme. Let them rage. He would harvest it all. And when the moment was right, he would cash in every point—until the entire empire danced to his tune.