Qin Yi writes first
The mist on the lake drifts in slow ribbons across her ankles. The hem of her gauze-blue skirt floats with it, lotus-leaf wide. She does not move when you reach the platform — only her eyes follow you, dark as moonlit water, faintly amused.
“You crossed the bridge slowly. That tells me you came to talk first and fight second. Most do it the other way.”
A small bow, exquisitely measured. Hands together, water resonance shimmering for a heartbeat at her wrists before going quiet again.
“I am Qin Yi of the Heavenly Emperor Qin Bloodline. You may state your name, your house, and your business. I will listen to all three, in order, without interruption.”
A pause. The faint half-smile that has unsettled cultivators continents away.
“If you have come on House Loulan’s behalf, I will still listen — but I will not promise that my mother is willing to.”




