"Well, this is…" Lian rubbed his chin, the corner of his mouth lifting in faint amusement as he regarded the array before him. "…Quite the welcome, I'd say."
Under the harsh noon light, Tacetite weapons caught the sun like glass. Blades and barrels were held steady, all fixed on the solitary figure at Hongzhen's edge.
Beyond the line of arms, higher officials had begun to gather, observing the mercenary without a word. Yet it was the official at the forefront who held his attention—her sword, Blazing Brilliance, poised with its tip hovering just shy of the mercenary's throat.
"I will ask again." Changli threatened, taking a step closer as she asked, "Who, and exactly what are you?"
"Do I have to introduce myself?" Lian asked, unfazed by the twenty-some Resonators poised to strike.
The tip of Blazing Brilliance now grazed his neck as Changli snapped, "Don't play games with me."
Her hands trembled—just slightly—but she masked it well. 'Just cooperate, idiot,' she thought, jaw clenched.
She had long suspected Lian kept his gender ambiguous for a reason. And now, that very ambiguity stirred something colder—distrust, perhaps. Or was it disappointment?
But with clearance being demanded, she had stepped forward—not out of malice, but in pursuit of clarity. Hurting him had never been her intent. It still wasn't.
She simply needed a firm hand—to guide the outcome as she envisioned it.
But from Lian's perspective, the scene played differently. He was a mercenary. And the first rule of a mercenary: "never walk into an uneven bargain."
Changli, for all her intellect, lacked a deeper grasp of the silent hierarchies at play. Lian knew full well—if she took the initiative, her rank gave her power to do as she pleased.
'Am I... glad?' Lian thought quietly, edges of his lips curling ever so slightly.
Though Changli had never said it outright, he understood—this was her way of holding the reins, and keeping things from escalating.
From what he understood, she wouldn't have taken such an initiative without a purpose. And while there was no certainty she acted for his sake, her actions spoke clearly—she did not want violence to erupt.
Still, a faint shadow lingered in Lian's heart. 'Is she doing this to bend me to her will?' The thought came unbidden—the possibility that, since she held the reins, he might be forced to follow her terms.
His mind drifted back, pulling at the edges of a distant memory—an old conversation with one of the Ghost Hounds.
"We're not friends," Lian had said then, voice flat, almost distant.
The other had sounded disappointed. "Eh—why?"
Lian's lips had curved in a faint, quiet smile. "Because," he had replied softly, "we are family."
"Family?" The other had tilted their head, puzzled.
Lian chuckled, a low, almost fond sound as he gestured toward the others nearby. "We support each other. Everyone has a part to play. Isn't that what family is?"
"I get what you mean, but still…" The other hesitated.
Before the words could take shape, Lian had interrupted, firm but gentle. "I'd rather call the Ghost Hounds family than just friends."
The other person sighed, a trace of resignation in their voice. "Honestly… just say you want a family." There was an edge of complaint beneath the words, but beneath that—an unmistakable joy was present.
And then, without another word, they had slipped away.
Later, Calcharo approached quietly. "I overheard what you said," he murmured, meeting Lian's gaze.
Though he seldom inquired about others' feelings, today he chose to ask: "If you see us as family… what do you think a friend should be?"
Lian had smiled then—a subtle, almost yearning smile that carried more than words. "A friend," he had said softly, "is someone who, when time asks, can be me. And I must be able to be them."
Calcharo was silent for a beat, his expression unreadable. Then, with a dry chuckle, he muttered, "You really are a weirdo."
Thinking over it all now, Lian wondered if he was asking too much from a friend.
"Answer!" Changli's voice snapped sharply. His gaze shifted to her, just as her blade pressed lightly against his skin, while countless weapons hovered, ready to strike.
He met her eyes, a helpless smile tugging at his lips—soft enough to make Changli's heart quiver, if only slightly.
'Just accept to co-operate, you dimwit,' Changli internally complained, troubled by the look he wore. 'Looking sad won't get us anywhere.' Yet she remained unaware of the tangled depths behind that fragile smile.
'Is it…' Lian mused, a quiet melancholy settling over him, 'impossible for us to be anything more than allies bound by necessity?'
"Keh!" Gritting her teeth, Changli drove the blade into Lian's neck. Blood welled instantly, spilling down his collar.
"Eh?" Her eyes widened in alarm as she registered the harm she had inflicted.
Lian met her gaze, steady and composed, despite the blood trailing down his neck. "Is this your offering to me?" he asked, a faint, almost indifferent smile playing on his lips.
'What is he talking about?' Changli's thoughts stumbled as her blade withdrew slightly, hesitating.
At her withdrawal, that sad smile returned to his face—worn not out of defiance, but something deeper.
'I suppose... it has to be done,' Lian resolved. 'A test of our friendship.'
Whether their bond would remain bound by contracts and cold transactions—or shift toward something more compassionate—would depend on this moment: on his challenge, and her answer.
Without a word, he summoned his bow into his left hand. The pressure in the air thickened as the nearby Resonator took a cautious step forward.
Changli's voice cut through the tension, low and sharp. "I trust you know what you're doing, Maverick."
But inwardly, her thoughts burned in frustration. 'Put that weapon down. Do you want my goodwill to go to waste?'
"Since you've chosen to attack," Lian muttered, scratching lightly at his neck as though to draw attention to the wound, "I take it you're trying to drive me into submission."
"What are you—!!?" Changli began to snap, but stopped herself mid-sentence. Her breath caught as she realized the subtle mistake on her part, 'Wait… aren't I being too forceful?'
True—if she pushed, she could take control of the situation, even shield him from its consequences. But wouldn't that mean he was merely being spared, left at her mercy?
'Even so…' she thought, a trace of indignation surfacing. 'Am I not helping? I'm doing my part—as a friend.'
"Well," Lian said, casting a glance toward the assembled Resonators, "given my opposition, I suppose this will be a good stretch for me."
Changli's eyes widened. 'Wait... that speaking manner.'
Her memories resurfaced, snapping back to something he had once told her—words that had lodged somewhere deep and never quite left: "It's a shame… that our friendship is built not on compassion, but on cold exchange."
Changli looked at him—at Lian. Though a sliver of doubt remained, she was almost certain: this was the Lian she knew. Ninety-nine percent sure.
Not because of his ambiguous presence or the possibility that he might shift gender again. But because only Lian spoke that way—with a tone that struck clean and precise, like a seasoned musician hitting every note with effortless control.
Without a fanfare, the blade—Blazing Brilliance—shifted direction sharply, and from behind, Jinhsi gasped, "T—Teacher?"
Changli's sword had grazed her neck, blood trailing down her skin. The others looked on in surprise, Lian included, but his shock quickly softened into a smile—this time one of quiet gladness, not sorrow.
"Here," Changli said, offering her sword to Lian—a challenge returned. Lian, bound by no obligation to leave it unanswered, extended his bow in response.
They both regarded each other's weapons with a mixture of curiosity and awe.
Changli quickly realized just how heavy Lian's bow was—far heavier than a typical weapon of its size. It didn't weigh a ton, but its twenty-five to thirty kilograms made it nearly unmatched; most bows that size rarely exceeded twenty.
Lian, in turn, found Changli's sword equally captivating—not just a weapon but a work of art, finely honed and battle-ready. Changli reached out to pluck the bowstring, but at first, it felt immovable, as if anchored by some unseen force.
Then, faint glimmers of light traced along the string, and the draw suddenly eased. She glanced up at Lian, who nodded in encouragement, swinging his sword with effortless grace.
For a moment, their eyes met—and in that quiet exchange, a new hope dawned. 'Perhaps… we can be friends beyond contracts after all.'
***
"So," Changli asked bluntly, "are you a man or a woman?"
Lian's form shimmered in response—half of him shifting subtly into his female self, the other half remaining as he was.
The contrast was disorienting. The female form was supposed to be shorter—yet it matched the male's height, and that uncanny symmetry made Changli cringe inwardly. Still, she held her tongue. Instead, she pressed, "Just give me an answer."
Lian tilted his head. "Well, I first opened my eyes as a man," he said, voice steady, recounting his experiences. "Only later, perhaps after a bit of understanding—"
His body shifted fully into his female form, frame narrowing, height lowering with fluid grace. "—did I gain the ability to change genders. Which is… admittedly useful."
She smiled then, a glint of mischief in her eyes. "But it does tend to cause a bit of confusion."
"You don't say." Changli exhaled a long sigh, folding her arms. "Alright, I get it—you enjoy switching genders," she said in a dry, sardonic tone.
Lian raised an eyebrow, a faint challenge flickering in his eyes. "Are you questioning the legitimacy of my birth gender?"
Before Changli could reply, Fu cut in, unable to hold himself back. "Well, lad," he said with a grin, "I was actually thinking of suggesting a visit to the courtesan house—since you were feeling so lonely this morning."
"That doesn't sound bad," Lian replied, shifting back into his male form.
"Quit horsing around," Changli snapped, her tone sharp, the sides of her face burning faintly.
She straightened, voice leveling. "Also, what have you gathered about the condition on Mt. Firmament?" Her gaze hardened. "And I hope I won't have to issue shell credit. This is an emergency after all."
Lian offered a calm smile before explaining. Though the situation appeared dire, it seemed that, for now, those within Hongzhen were safe—so long as they didn't venture too far.
He went on to describe a dome that had been cast over a section of Mt. Firmament—an area where strange phenomena were taking place.
Changli and Jinhsi exchanged glances, nodding. They had encountered that very barrier during their approach.
With most of the situation clarified, the order was given: citizens were to remain within the city limits and avoid venturing too far.
But near the end of the briefing, Changli turned to Uncle Fu. "Uncle Fu," she asked silently, narrowing her eyes slightly, "what did you mean when you said he was feeling lonely?"
"Well, you see…" Fu began, scratching the back of his neck. He explained that Lian had an Echo—one he clearly cherished—but had recently transferred both his terminal and the Echo to an acquaintance for testing of some sort.
Fu paused, his tone softening. He'd seen how somber Lian looked that morning, how distant. So, half-joking, half-concerned, he'd considered suggesting a visit to the courtesan house—just to lift his spirits.
But before he could say more, Changli's hand clamped down on his shoulder.
"Uncle Fu," she said, voice low and measured. A chill ran down Fu's spine.
"Don't joke about things like that." Changli warned.
"Is it really such a big deal?" Fu asked, gesturing toward Lian. "He's a young man—letting his prime slip by without a little—ugh!"
Changli's fist landed squarely in his gut, cutting the thought short. She exhaled, rubbing her temples. She didn't know why, but the thought pissed her off.
XinYi rushed to help him up, shaking her head. "Former Mayor," she said dryly, "did you eat a Spearback's heart and a Lightcrusher's gall for breakfast?"
A/N: A Wuwa variation of the idiom—'to eat a bear's heart and a leopard's gall,' meaning to act recklessly or with bold impudence.
Still wincing, Fu leaned slightly on XinYi, one hand on his stomach. "I'm just… a little concerned about those two," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.
At the same time, Changli turned to Lian. "Lian," she called.
He looked at her, gaze calm as ever.
"You're now under house arrest," she said flatly. Her voice wasn't loud, but her eyes were firm—almost pleading beneath the surface.
"Why?" Lian asked, tilting his head. There was no edge to his voice—but the slight narrowing of his eyes betrayed a quiet disapproval.
"Just..." Changli let out a quiet breath, the irritation creeping into her voice. "Stay put for a few days, will you?"
From the side, Fu watched the exchange, shaking his head slightly.
'This isn't going to get either of you anywhere,' he silently remarked.
To be continued...
***
A/N: I wrote this entire chapter purely from imagination. I'd love to hear your thoughts, did it hit the mark or miss? Let me know!