The Drunken Peak was bathed in the soft, ethereal glow of floating crimson paper lanterns, casting a warm, festive light over the remnants of the flour-covered courtyard.
The scent of perfectly steamed pork belly dumplings, rich soy-honey glaze, and aged plum wine hung heavy and intoxicating in the crisp mountain air.
After the catastrophic kitchen explosion, Lin Ji'an had successfully wrangled the most dangerous men in the Northern Territories into a relatively peaceful outdoor banquet, forcing them to sit around a massive, magically expanded wooden table beneath the ancient peach trees.
Everyone was full, slightly tipsy, and nursing their bruised egos. But peace, in a courtyard filled with alpha-male Protagonists and volatile villains, was always a temporary illusion.
