Rina stepped closer, lowering her voice. "First rule leave your anger. Completely. No violence. No threats. No claiming."
Ling scoffed weakly. "You just told me to abandon half my personality."
Rina shrugged. "For now."
Ling exhaled through her nose. "And then?"
"And then," Rina said, eyes glinting, "we have fun."
Ling studied her cousin's face searching for sarcasm, cruelty, recklessness.
She found none.
Only certainty.
Fun, in Rina's vocabulary, never meant harmless.
Ling nodded once. "Fine."
Before Rina could say more, footsteps approached.
Jian and Rowen entered the corridor together, both still in partial kit, expressions sharp with awareness. They'd heard enough. They always did.
Rowen leaned against the opposite wall, crossing his arms. "So," he said casually, "that's the chimpanzee?"
Ling didn't answer.
Jian glanced toward the exit where Rhea had disappeared earlier. "Kane's new guard dog."
Rina smirked. "Exactly."
Rowen's mouth curved. "Good. Because if we handle him your way," he nodded toward Ling, "Rhea would explode."
"And if we handle him my way," Rina finished calmly, "Rhea won't even realize she's being protected."
Ling looked between them. "I don't want her hurt."
Rowen raised an eyebrow. "Who said anything about hurt?"
Jian added, "We're not animals. We're patient."
Ling's eyes narrowed slightly. "You're enjoying this."
Rina didn't deny it. "He's temporary. But his presence is destabilizing you. That's a liability."
Ling's voice dropped. "He touched her."
Rina cut in immediately. "No. He sat near her. Don't rewrite reality into something that gives you an excuse."
Ling went still.
Then she nodded again. Slower this time. "You're right."
Rowen smiled faintly. "That's new."
Ling shot him a look. "Don't push it."
Rina clapped her hands once, sharp. "Good. Decision made."
She leaned in toward Ling, voice quiet but firm. "From now on you're calm. Polite. Untouchable. You don't look at him like he's dirt. You don't look at Rhea like she's yours."
Ling swallowed. "And if she looks at me?"
Rina met her gaze. "You let her."
A beat passed.
Jian added, "And if he tries to act heroic?"
Rina's smile sharpened. "Then we expose him. Slowly. In public. Without a single lie."
Ling felt something shift in her chest.
Not relief.
Focus.
She straightened fully now, shoulders settling, breath finally evening out.
"Fine," she said quietly. "No anger."
Rina nodded approvingly. "Good. Because anger makes you obvious."
Rowen pushed off the wall. "And obvious people lose."
Ling glanced once more toward the exit imagining Rhea walking away, stiff, guarded, wounded.
"I don't want her thinking I'm hunting her," Ling said.
Rina stepped beside her, voice low. "Then stop hunting. Start existing."
Ling let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding.
"I can do that for her," she said.
Rina smiled again satisfied this time.
"Good," she said. "Because now we play clean."
——
The lecture hall buzzed before Ling even entered.
Whispers moved faster than bodies. Everyone had already heard about the red card. The aggression. The fallout. People expected fire.
They didn't get it.
Ling walked in calm.
Not smiling.
Not angry.
Unreadable.
She didn't go to her usual seat.
She went straight to the professor's chair.
The hall froze.
The professor mid-aged, respected, cautious stopped mid-sentence.
"Ms. Kwong—" he began.
Ling didn't look at him.
She sat.
Crossed one leg over the other.
Rested her elbow on the armrest like it had always belonged to her.
"Continue," she said coolly. "You were explaining mediocrity."
A ripple of suppressed reactions passed through the room.
The professor cleared his throat, visibly unsettled, but he did not argue. He stepped aside. He always did.
Ling's eyes scanned the hall lazily.
Students stiffened under her gaze.
Then she saw Rhea.
Rhea sat three rows down. Spine straight. Face blank. Eyes forward. She did not look at Ling.
Beside her sat Roin.
Ling's jaw tightened just once.
Then her eyes shifted.
And locked onto him.
Roin felt it.
Everyone did.
Ling tilted her head slightly, studying him like an unfamiliar object.
"So," she said casually, voice carrying. "We have a guest."
Roin looked up. "Excuse me?"
Ling smiled faintly. Not warm. Not cruel. Curious.
"You're new," she said. "You're sitting very confidently for someone who hasn't earned space yet."
A few students glanced between them.
Rhea's fingers curled in her lap.
Roin straightened. "I'm just a student. Like everyone else."
Ling hummed. "No."
She leaned back in the chair.
"Everyone else here has learned when to stay quiet."
Roin's lips tightened. "With respect, this is a lecture hall, not a court."
Ling's smile sharpened.
"Oh, this is very much a court," she said. "You're just unaware of the hierarchy."
A low chuckle came from the back.
Rina.
She was seated casually, one ankle resting on her knee, eyes bright with amusement.
"Careful," Rina added lightly. "First week arrogance usually ages badly."
Jian leaned forward from another row. "Statistically speaking," he said, feigning thoughtfulness, "outsiders who mouth off in Kwong territory don't last long."
Rowen smirked. "But hey, maybe you're special."
Roin's face flushed. "I didn't come here to be intimidated."
Ling tilted her head again. "Then why did you respond?"
Silence.
The professor shifted uncomfortably. "Ms. Kwong, perhaps—"
Ling raised a finger.
The professor stopped.
Ling's gaze returned to Roin, slow, assessing.
"You sit beside people you don't understand," she said calmly. "You speak when you should listen. And you confuse proximity with relevance."
Rhea finally turned.
Not to Ling.
To Roin.
Her eyes were sharp. Warning.
Roin swallowed.
Ling noticed that too.
"And you mistake restraint for weakness," Ling finished. "That's your biggest flaw."
Roin clenched his jaw. "You don't own this place."
Ling laughed softly.
Rina leaned back, smiling wider now. "That's adorable."
Jian added, "She doesn't need to own it. It bends. But for your information Kwongs are owners."
Rowen's voice followed, lazy and cutting. "You're sitting here because she allows it."
Roin pushed back in his seat slightly, defensive. "I'm not afraid of titles."
Ling finally stood.
The chair scraped softly against the floor.
The sound alone made the room tense.
She walked down the aisle slowly.
Stopped in front of Roin's desk.
"Good," Ling said quietly. "Fear would make this boring."
She glanced once at Rhea.
Just once.
Rhea's face had gone pale. Her lips pressed together. Her breath shallow.
Ling looked away immediately.
Then she turned back to the hall.
"Lecture dismissed," she said. "You can continue pretending this is neutral ground."
She walked out.
No glance back.
No lingering dominance.
Just absence.
The room exhaled only after the doors closed.
Roin sat stiff, chest tight, realizing too late that every response he'd given had been measured, provoked, and boxed in.
Rhea stared at her notebook.
She hadn't written a word.
Her hands were shaking.
Rina passed by Roin's desk on her way out and paused.
Smiled pleasantly.
"Welcome to the university," she said. "Try not to stand out."
Jian and Rowen followed, their laughter quiet but unmistakable.
Roin stayed seated long after everyone else left.
He understood now.
This wasn't about threats.
This was about placement.
And Ling Kwong had just placed him.
Roin didn't sleep that night.
Because of humiliation.
Ling's words replayed again and again, not loud, not dramatic, just precise enough to carve. Worse than the words was the laughter that followed after she left. The way the room had accepted her authority without protest.
He convinced himself of one thing:
Silence would make it permanent.
So the next day, Roin chose action.
And that was the mistake.
Next Day - University
Between lectures, Roin deliberately took the longer route — the one that passed near the rooftop corridor. Students rarely used it. Cameras were old. Faculty never lingered.
Rhea had gone ahead to submit an assignment.
Roin waited.
Ling appeared exactly when he expected walking alone, hands in her pockets, expression distant. Rina wasn't with her. Jian and Rowen were somewhere else.
For once, Ling was unguarded.
Roin stepped into her path.
"Kwong," he said.
Ling stopped.
She looked at him slowly, as if deciding whether he existed.
"Yes?" she replied.
Her tone was neutral.
That should have warned him.
"You don't get to do that again," Roin said, forcing steadiness. "What you did in class."
Ling blinked once. "Did?"
"You humiliated me. In front of everyone."
Ling tilted her head slightly. "You volunteered."
Roin's jaw tightened. "You think intimidation makes you powerful?"
Ling smiled faintly. "No. Power makes intimidation unnecessary."
Roin stepped closer.
This was the second mistake.
"You hide behind influence," he said. "Strip that away and you're just—"
Ling moved.
Not aggressively.
Not fast.
She reached out and took his ID card from the lanyard around his neck.
Just plucked it off.
Roin froze.
Ling glanced at it, then back at him.
"You're in Kane Nior's house," she said calmly. "You sit beside her daughter. You speak her name with familiarity."
Her eyes hardened.
"And you think that makes you untouchable."
Roin swallowed. "I'm not afraid of you."
Ling leaned in slightly now.
"Good," she said quietly. "Because fear would still leave you room to retreat."
She stepped back.
And raised her voice — just enough.
"Is this how you follow Kane's instructions?" she asked aloud.
Footsteps slowed nearby.
Roin's heart skipped. "What are you—"
Ling continued, voice clear, controlled.
"Cornering people. Accusing them. Creating scenes."
Students had started to look.
Roin realized too late.
This wasn't private anymore.
Rhea emerged from the stairwell.
She stopped short.
Her eyes moved from Roin tense, flushed to Ling composed, distant.
"What's going on?" Rhea asked.
Roin turned immediately. "She—"
Ling cut in.
"He stopped me," she said evenly. "Blocked my way. Took an aggressive tone."
Rhea stiffened.
Roin stared at Ling. "That's not—"
Ling held up his ID card between two fingers.
"He seems confused about boundaries," she added. "Maybe because he's new."
Rhea's face drained of color.
Roin felt panic now. "Rhea, listen—"
"Why are you talking to her?" Rhea snapped suddenly.
The words hit him harder than Ling ever could.
"I was trying to fix this," he said desperately. "For you."
Ling's eyes flicked to Rhea sharp, warning.
Rhea didn't see it.
"I didn't ask you to," Rhea said. Her voice trembled. "I told you to stay away."
Silence.
Students watched from a distance now, pretending not to.
Ling extended the ID card back to Roin.
"Next time," she said quietly, "understand the board before you make a move."
She stepped past him.
No shove.
No insult.
Just certainty.
Roin stood there, exposed.
Not because Ling had won.
Because Rhea had pulled away.
Rhea didn't look at Ling as she passed but she didn't follow Roin either.
She walked off alone.
Ling paused only once.
She didn't turn.
"Protection isn't control," she said softly. "Learn the difference before you hurt her more."
Then she moved.
Roin stayed rooted to the floor.
He finally understood what his mistake was.
Not confronting Ling.
But assuming this was about him.
It never was.
Rhea didn't go far.
She stopped near the old stone benches behind the library the place where voices softened and the university pretended to be neutral. Her steps slowed, then halted completely.