( 'ω' ) The Coming Melee (1)
Outside Hangzhou, the morning mist had yet to clear. Amid the lush greenery and hazy white fog, a secluded villa lay hidden.
Though it was already late autumn, the garden at the villa was so well tended that a few flowers were still stubbornly blooming in season, adding a touch of poetry to the bleak autumn scenery.
In the waterside pavilion, a feature of many southern courtyards, Ren Yingying sat on a stone stool in a plain robe. An incense burner stood beside her. Her slender fingers rested lightly on the strings of her qin, as if tuning it—or perhaps lost in thought. A faint worry and springlike tenderness showed in her eyes.
Just then!
Steady, powerful footsteps drew nearer. Soon, Xiang Wentian—the Sun Moon Holy Cult's "Heavenly King Laozi" and its Left Emissary of Light—strode through the archway and into the garden. After a quick look around, he immediately headed toward Ren Yingying.
He wore a black robe, his posture upright and his features rugged. Yet his clothes were still damp with heavy dew, making it clear he hadn't just woken up. He had been up all night, though no one knew what he'd been doing.
"!!"
"Greetings, Holy Aunt!"
Stepping into the pavilion, Xiang Wentian promptly clasped his hands in salute. His booming voice echoed through the garden's morning stillness.
"..."
Ren Yingying turned her head slightly, but did not rise or look back.
"Uncle Xiang, there's no need for formalities."
"Sit."
Only then did she speak, her voice gentle and lilting, yet still carrying an air of authority.
"..."
Xiang Wentian didn't stand on ceremony. He took a seat at the edge of the pavilion as she'd suggested, then swept his gaze around. After a brief pause, he frowned