"This is..." Yangyang uttered, her voice steady as her Terminal shimmered into light. "A holographic broadcast for all of Jinzhou, sent from City Hall.
Light was projected from her Terminal, coalescing into the delicate form of a young girl. She stood poised, her white hair swept up in an elegant loop, the strands gleaming like spun moonlight.
Regal and composed, she wore robes of lustrous silk, their intricate patterns of a mighty Loong, transitioning seamlessly with the ceremonial armor that adorned her slender frame.
Though her appearance radiated innocence, her voice resonated with solemnity as she began, "My fellow soldiers and citizens, I must apologize for any disruption this message may bring."
"I am Jinhsi, Magistrate of Jinzhou." Her introduction was brief, yet carried the weight of her office. She continued, "While the Moon-Chasing Festival is a time of celebration, we are not untouched by the troubles of TD outbreaks that persist in our city."
"Jinzhou has long opened its gates to travelers from every corner of the world during this festive season." Her words evoked the city's storied tradition of hospitality.
"With that in mind," Jinhsi's gaze grew resolute, her eyes reflecting sincerity. "I have a favor to ask."
She earnestly continued. "Among our guests, there is one whose presence is of the utmost importance to me, the City of Jinzhou, and the entirety of Huanglong. Citizens, assist this esteemed visitor when the opportunity arises."
The holographic message ended, its shimmering light fading from the air. Silence settled over the place, broken only by the soft hum of the Terminal.
Yangyang, Chixia, and Baizhi exchanged glances, the weight of the Magistrate's words lingering between them.
Chixia furrowed her brow, her voice barely above a whisper. "Why do I get this feeling..."
Baizhi gave a cool, knowing nod. "This person our Magistrate was talking about..."
Yangyang turned to Rover, her expression gentle but certain. "...is Rover."
***
In Jinzhou's City Hall, a stern woman with silver hair and piercing red eyes scrutinized the navy-haired woman before her.
The navy-haired woman stood poised, her mature and demure demeanor making her stand out like a lotus—an elegant contrast to the simple, unadorned outfit she wore.
"Who might you be, Lady?" asked the silver-haired woman, her tone formal and guarded.
An unwavering vigilance, such was the personality of this frost beauty: Sanhua—the personal bodyguard of the Magistrate.
The navy-haired woman replied calmly, "I am the Maverick of the Ghost Hounds, Da Lian."
Sanhua blinked, momentarily taken aback. "Do you have any proof?" she asked, her voice softening just a touch.
Inwardly, Sanhua thought, 'Her frequency is... odd.' There was something about this woman—her presence felt like a melody cut short before it could fully form.
Without a word, Lian unhooked her Terminal and displayed the mark of the Ghost Hounds. Sanhua examined it closely, then gave a polite bow. "I have confirmed your identity. Please, follow me."
They walked together through the grand halls of City Hall, passing the reception area. Sanhua led Lian into a quiet meeting room.
"Apologies, but since our Magistrate is absent at the moment, you will have to speak with the Counselor," Sanhua said, her tone respectful. "Please overlook our shortcomings."
Sanhua gestured toward the door, and Lian entered, greeted by the rhythmic clack of beads striking a wooden board.
The door shut down behind Lian, but she did not gazed back. Instead, her eyes were drawn towards the woman before, deeply engrossed in a solitary game of Weiqi.
The woman had long, salmon-pink hair fading to white at the tips, styled into curled, phoenix-feather ponytails.
Her fiery yellow eyes shone with intelligence, set in a tall, slender frame. Her left arm bore glowing, feather-like burn marks that radiated a faint, fiery light, and a grey, flame-like markings adorned parts of her upper body.
She wore an elaborate short white gown layered over a black dress, with black sleeves, red diamond-patterned lining, golden accents, and flowing coattails adorned with flame motifs and intricate inscriptions.
Noticing the newcomer, the woman—Counselor of Jinzhou—looked up, her gaze falling on the striking beauty with navy hair and aquamarine eyes, dressed simply, as if her plain attire was a disservice to her elegance.
A mischievous smile curled on the Counselor's lips as she rested her chin on her hands, elbows propped on the table, studying Lian with keen interest. "Greetings. I presume you are from the Ghost Hounds?"
Lian nodded, introducing herself with a respectful clasp of her hands. "I am Da Lian, the Maverick of the Ghost Hounds."
The Counselor rose gracefully and introduced herself in turn.
"I am Changli, the current Counselor serving Magistrate Jinhsi." She offered a curt bow, her right hand forming a mudra—middle and index fingers extended, the rest curled—placed gently over her chest.
"Please," she implored, gesturing to the chair before her. "Have a seat."
Lian nodded politely and sat down as Changli asked, "Do you need any refreshments?" Lian shook her head, instead producing a map from her Terminal and pointing toward the Norfall Barrens.
A bold line was drawn across the map. Lian spoke plainly, "One hundred million shell credits. If you can pay that much, no Tacet Discord will cross this line."
Changli blinked, taken aback. The situation at the Norfall Barrens was already dire, but the sheer sum Lian demanded was staggering. 'Who asks for a hundred million shell credits?' she thought.
Changli's mind raced behind her composed mask. One hundred million. Outrageous, yes—but not an impossible amount to pay. But perhaps she could negotiate it down. Afterall, every move here was a ripple in the city's future.
She weighed the political fallout, the precedent it would set, and the leverage she might gain if she played this right. Even Lian's audacity could be a tool, if wielded properly.
'Hmm,' Changli gazed ahead, regarding Lian carefully. "Are there other members of the Ghost Hounds with you?"
Lian replied simply, "I alone am enough."
"Oh my." Changli produced a beautiful shànzi—folding fan—from her Terminal as she covered her face, "Quite brave, and... bold." Her eyes narrowed.
But instead of questioning Lian's abilities, Changli just said, "Alright." She snapped her fan closed with a flick, eyes narrowing. "But it's not the Norfall Barrens you'd be defending."
Lian didn't flinch. "The Ghost Hounds are very flexible with their pricing."
A sly smile curled on Changli's lips. "Oh, wonderful." She clapped her hands, head tilting to the side, fingers resting lightly against her cheek. "Unlike defending an entire city, you only need to protect one."
"One? Is it the special guest everyone's so eager to imitate?" Lian asked in a flat voice.
Changli nodded, her tone almost playful. "Yes. And since it's just one, I believe the price should be adjusted. Don't worry, you can leave the war with the TDs to us. No need to get involved."
It was a clever proposition for Jinzhou. Lian would only need to guard a single person, not the whole front-line. Changli was certain the price would drop, and she'd achieve her own aims.
But Lian didn't hesitate. She flatly gave the price, "Ten billion shell credits."
The room fell silent. Changli's smile froze, her lips twitching as if she'd tasted something sour. "I must have misheard you."
Lian repeated, voice calm, "Ten billion shell credits."
Changli's eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint flickering. "You're insane."
Lian blinked, unfazed. "Hmm. It does sound unfair."
Changli let out an exasperated sigh. But before she could recover, Lian added, almost offhand, "And that's my rate for defending this guest for one day."
Changli nearly coughed blood. Her composure cracked, just for a heartbeat.
To defend the front lines, Lian had asked for one hundred million. But to protect a single person? Ten billion. The numbers alone were enough to make anyone question her sanity—or her confidence.
"Do you even know how to count?" Changli asked, her tone sharp, almost mocking.
Lian didn't miss a beat. "Want me to demonstrate?"
"Leave it." Changli waved her off, exasperated. "We don't need help from the Ghost Hounds. Your organization is too expensive."
"The prices," Lian replied, voice even, "are very fair."
Changli's eyes narrowed, arms folding tight across her chest. "Don't spout nonsense. How does protecting a guest cost that astronomically? Even if they're special, it shouldn't be that much."
"You speak of fairness, but what does a Ghost Hound know of loyalty?" Changli's words were bait, her gaze sharp for any flicker of reaction. She watched Lian closely, searching for cracks in her composure, for any hint of true motive beneath the calm exterior.
"It's exactly because they're special it must cost that much," Lian answered, gaze steady. "Besides, using others' lives as bait to hook some fish—your secretive, sneaky behavior leaves a really bad taste in my mouth."
Changli stiffened, caught off guard. Her posture straightened, shoulders tense. Her eyes flashed, suspicion and irritation mixing beneath her calm mask. 'Wait, she—'
"Was it obvious?" Changli asked quietly, not bothering to hide herself—she knew things would spiral down if she did.
Lian didn't confirm or deny. She just said, "I saw some people draped in red fabric—Fractsidus—on my way here." Her tone was casual, but her gaze never left Changli.
Changli's eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint in them. 'This woman,' she thought, 'is not so simple.'
Lian leaned back, almost relaxed. "I can go to the frontlines and defend for the price I mentioned earlier. Per day."
Changli's lips pressed into a thin line. "And how can we trust you can actually defend it?"
Lian didn't respond. Instead, she pointed at the Weiqi board between them. "What is this game called?"
Changli blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in topic, and before she realized it, answered automatically, "Weiqi. Do you know about it?"
The words slipped out before she could stop herself. 'Damn,' she thought, realizing she'd been led right into it.
Lian's answer was simple. "This will work." She tilted her head, eyes unreadable. "Can you tell me how it's played?"
Changli hesitated, but explained the rules, her voice steady. Lian listened, then said, "If I can beat you at this, will you believe my claims?"
"Pft—"
A laugh burst from Changli, sudden and genuine. She covered her mouth, not out of mockery, but at the absurdity. "Hoh, and why should I play this game?"
Lian confidently offered, "If I lose, I'll work for free. But if I win, you'll never question my abilities again."
Changli arched a brow. "Doesn't this put you at a disadvantage? You'd be working under me if you lose, and even if you win, I'm not forced to recruit you."
"But you'll never be able to question my abilities or claims again," Lian said calmly. She wasn't after fairness—right now, Lian wanted respect, pure and simple.
Changli paused, considering. Then, with a slow exhale, she passed the white beads to Lian, the board between them empty and waiting. "Game it is," she said, her voice soft but resolute.
Changli's eyes glinted, catching the tactic for what it was. "But let's make it interesting," she abruptly added.
She proposed, "If you lose, you'll not only work for free—you'll answer my questions, honestly, no riddles or evasions."
"And if you win," she added, "I'll never question your abilities again, and I'll ensure your reputation is sealed in Jinzhou. Deal?"
Lian nodded, calm as ever. "If it's about my reputation, make sure that I'm addressed only as Maverick or Lian—no other names or genders."
A strange request, but Changli agreed.
'Let's see if you are a fool or just playing the fool,' Changli thought, her eyes narrowing with a spark of challenge. She hadn't met someone this daring in a long time.
But as she watched Lian, Changli's mind sharpened, gears turning behind her composed expression. She replayed the conversation in her head, realizing how deftly Lian had shifted the terms, how she'd been led into this wager almost without noticing.
A flicker of admiration mingled with her competitive fire. 'So, you want to play at strategy? Good. Let's see how deep your game runs.' She inwardly challenged.
Changli straightened, her posture regal, a faint smile returning to her lips. She would not be outmaneuvered so easily.
If Lian thought she held all the cards, she was in for a surprise. Changli's mind was already racing through possible openings, traps, and countermoves—on the board and off.
But Lian met her fiery gaze with the calmness of the ocean's depths, unflinching. Beneath that composed mask, she thought, 'Things are proceeding quite smoothly.'
As the first stones touched the board, Changli felt a thrill she hadn't known in years. Win or lose, this was the kind of opponent she'd been waiting for.
Her mind burned with possibilities, every move a test of wit and will. She would not yield—not here, not now. Let the world see: the flames of Jinzhou's Counselor would not be so easily outshone.
To be continued...
***
A/N: Sometimes I feel like I'm over-explaining because I worry I'm being ambiguous. Other times, I feel like I'm not explaining enough but hesitate to add more since I believe I've already said enough.
I'd love to get the readers feedback—would you prefer me to explain with the scene and leave the readers to ponder what I am trying to convey, or focus on clarifying the scene with extra wording?