Blades of Words

The Chancellor's estate shimmered under the late afternoon sun, its dark stone walls slick with melting snow that dripped from the eaves and pooled along the cobbled paths.

The air was sharp with the scent of pine, carried by the braziers scattered through the courtyard. Mu Qing's arrival had thrown the entire household into a flurry of activity—servants hurried with trays of food for her retinue, guards stiffened at the sight of her iron riders, and the Chancellor's family braced for the storm that followed in her wake.

Han Jin, however, felt only a rising thrill—a gambler's high, watching the dice tumble in slow motion.

He stood in the eastern garden, a small secluded patch beyond the main hall. The plum trees were bare but beautiful, their frost-laced branches etched against the pale sky. The pond was frozen over, a sheet of glass that cracked faintly under the weight of a passing breeze.

Han Jin idly flipped a dagger between his hands, its polished edge flashing in the light. His black-and-gold robes caught the sun just so, the fine silk making him look more princeling than rogue.

Across from him, Guan Tao leaned against a tree, the broad edge of his notched axe planted in the snow. The old mercenary's scarred face creased with dry amusement.

"You're restless, Third Young Master," Guan Tao rumbled, his voice like gravel. "Like a wolf scenting prey."

Han Jin snorted softly, catching the dagger mid-spin. "Prey? Hardly, Uncle Guan. She's a tiger, not a deer." His grin widened, sharp and wolfish. "I'm just eager to see if her claws are as sharp as the stories say."

[Awe from Guan Tao detected. +10 Points. Total: 285.]

The Dominance System hummed in his mind, its voice a cold, detached whisper: "Their wonder is your strength."

He'd been raking in points since Mu Qing's arrival—275 in just a day. The warlord was a goldmine, her mere presence a constant stream of awe and defiance.

Footsteps crunched over the snow behind him—light but deliberate. Han Jin didn't turn right away. Instead, he tossed the dagger one last time before smoothly sheathing it at his side. When he finally glanced over his shoulder, he found her watching him.

Mu Qing stepped into the garden with the same quiet, lethal grace he'd heard described in battlefield rumors. Her armor was gone, replaced by a fitted tunic of midnight blue with silver embroidery curling along the edges.

The fabric hugged her frame, but the longsword still resting at her hip made it clear she was far from unarmed. Her ink-black hair fell loose around her shoulders, framing a face of pale jade. Her eyes—cold, sharp, and glacial—fixed on him with predatory calm.

"Han Jin," she greeted flatly, her voice cutting through the crisp air. "Lurking in gardens now? I heard you preferred brothels and wine cellars."

Her lips barely moved, but he caught the glimmer of mockery in her eyes.

Han Jin let out a bright, careless laugh, startling a bird from the branches overhead.

"Lurking? Please, Lady Mu—I'm simply admiring the view. And you, I must admit, are finer scenery than any courtesan. Though I imagine your temper's far less forgiving."

He spun the dagger once more, then slid it home into its sheath with a practiced flick of his wrist. His gaze glinted with mischief. "I hear you're good with a blade. Care to spar? Or do you only fight when the odds are 380,000 to one?"

[Intrigue from Mu Qing detected. +15 Points. Total: 300.]

The system's cool chime echoed faintly in his chest. 300 points. Not bad.

Her eyes narrowed slightly. Not in anger. Not yet. But there was a spark of interest now—a glimmer behind the ice. She took a slow step forward, hand brushing lightly against her sword's hilt, her expression unreadable.

"A spar?" she repeated, her voice low. "You wouldn't last a breath, Han Jin. I've gutted men for less than your taunts—and they had better steel."

He leaned casually against the frost-covered tree, the bark rough beneath his palm. His smirk never wavered.

"Gut me, then. I'd hate to bore you." His gaze flickered with roguish defiance. "But I've a knack for dodging trouble—and a tongue sharper than most blades. Try me."

[Challenge from Mu Qing detected. +10 Points. Total: 310.]

Her eyes locked onto his, unblinking—a predator assessing a fool or a rival. The garden stilled, the chill sharpening the edges of their tension.

"You're bold," she finally murmured. "Or reckless." Her voice was quieter now, almost curious.

"I've heard the stories—Wei Kang's humiliation, your brothel theatrics. A spoiled wastrel playing at danger, they say. Hiding behind your father's robes." She tilted her head slightly, her lips curving in a faint smirk. "And yet, here you stand. Grinning. Like a man without sense."

He pushed off the tree and closed the distance between them, stopping just a step too close. His smile was slow and lazy, but his eyes were sharper now.

"Wastrel? Sure," he said softly, his voice a mock whisper. "But I don't hide. I play—and I win. You're the mouse here, Mu Qing. Caged by the Emperor. Leashed to me. How does it feel?" His smirk turned razor-sharp.

"Trading battlefields for bridal silks?"

[Anger from Mu Qing detected. +15 Points. Total: 325.]

Her jaw tightened. Her fingers twitched over her sword hilt before stilling. Her eyes flashed dangerously.

"Leashed?" she hissed, her voice barely more than a breath.

"I am no man's pet, least of all yours. The Emperor may bind me to this house, but I'll not bend to some pampered fool who thinks charm is a shield." Her voice dropped, venom dripping from every word.

"Step lightly, Han Jin. My patience is thin—and my blade isn't."

He chuckled low and soft, leaning in just a fraction closer. His voice was a conspiratorial murmur.

"Oh, I'll step as I please, warlord. You're not the only one with teeth." His grin widened. "I've a system that turns your temper into my treasure. So, go on—keep glaring. It's working wonders."

[Confusion from Mu Qing detected. +10 Points. Total: 335.]

For the first time, she blinked. Her gaze flickered, ever so briefly, with uncertainty.

"System?" she echoed, her brow furrowing. "What nonsense is this? You're mad. Or drunk."

He winked. "Neither." His grin widened, almost boyish. "Just gifted. Stick around—you'll see."

Before she could press him, the sharp sound of footsteps echoed from the hall.

"Third Young Master! Lady Mu!"

Lian Xue's voice rang out, her crimson robes fluttering as she hurried across the courtyard. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold.

"The Chancellor calls for you—dinner is served. And the Emperor's envoy has arrived."

Mu Qing's eyes lingered on Han Jin for a beat longer. Then, with a sharp turn, she strode away without another word. As she passed, her shoulder clipped his with deliberate force.

[Defiance from Mu Qing detected. +10 Points. Total: 345.]

Han Jin watched her go, rubbing his shoulder with a lazy grin.

"Oh, we're far from done," he muttered under his breath.

Guan Tao chuckled, stepping up beside him. "You're poking a bear, lad. She'll carve you yet."

Han Jin only grinned wider. "Let her try," he said, his eyes glinting with dangerous amusement. "She's a spark. I'll make her a blaze."

[Awe from Guan Tao detected. +10 Points. Total: 355.]

The night was still young—and the game had only just begun.