"The Meifu Clan is a vassal of the Zenin Clan. It should act like one."
Naoya Zenin did not even spare her a proper glance.
A mere declining old-school jujutsu family, with few members, surviving only by offering up its family's secret technique and attaching itself to the Zenin Clan—what right did it have to lecture him?
"But..."
Though Kikyō Meifu was also a little girl, she was considerably older than the Maki sisters and still wanted to argue back.
"Not only do you lack a powerful innate technique, you do not even have the self-awareness expected of a woman. You are an eyesore standing here."
Before Naoya finished speaking, his figure abruptly drew a blurred afterimage through the air.
[Projection Sorcery]
Slap!
A crisp slap exploded through the courtyard.
Five bright-red finger marks instantly appeared on Kikyō Meifu's fair cheek.
She covered her face as large tears splashed onto the gravel. Unable to endure the surrounding whispers and pointing any longer, she turned and ran toward the side gate.
Lu Ping had just stepped into the courtyard when the little girl, crying so hard she looked like a rain-soaked pear blossom, brushed past his side and stirred a faint breeze.
He watched her small retreating figure, then looked at Naoya, who stood in the middle of the courtyard wiping his fingers with a handkerchief, his face full of disgust. Lu Ping frowned.
Although Naobito Zenin, the old clan head, drank like a fish and was usually sloppy in his ways, he was never unclear when it came to matters of principle.
Yet he had never expected his own son to turn out to be such an extreme feudal relic, clinging to male supremacy and bloodline superiority.
Still, this was someone else's family affair. It was not Lu Ping's place