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CHAPTER 10: TERMS OF WEIGHT
Fat Lu did not look away from the token.
For a long moment, his gaze lingered on the lion, then slowly lifted back to Leylin's face. Something in his expression shifted, not weakness, not submission, but calculation settling into place.
Then he moved.
One hand lifted slightly, fingers curling in a lazy gesture.
The servants reacted immediately.
Heavy footsteps echoed as the crates were dragged forward, wood scraping against the floor, metal clinking within. One after another, they were pushed into the open space between them, stacked just enough to make their weight obvious.
Gold. Not hidden. Not subtle.
Displayed.
Fat Lu's voice followed, calm, almost amused.
"Take it."
Silence returned.
Not the same silence as before. This one watched. Waited.
Every eye in the room shifted, not to the gold, but back to Leylin.
Waiting.
Leylin didn't move.
His gaze dropped to the crates, then lingered there for a fraction longer than before. The weight of them was obvious. Even without touching them, he could tell. Carrying that much by hand would be ridiculous.
Which meant…
His eyes lifted slightly, scanning the room without turning his head. No one stepped forward. No one offered help. No one even looked confused.
They were watching him.
Expecting something.
Leylin understood immediately.
This was not generosity. This was a measure.
A quiet test wrapped in gold.
He let the moment stretch.
Then, slowly, he tilted his head.
"You expect me to carry this?"
The words fell lightly.
But they landed hard.
A ripple moved through the room. Subtle, but real. Shoulders shifted. A few men exchanged glances. Someone let out a breath they hadn't realized they were holding.
Fat Lu's eyes narrowed.
Just slightly.
Leylin's expression didn't change. If anything, the faint smirk at the edge of his lips deepened, as though the very suggestion had amused him.
Inside, however, his thoughts moved fast.
He had no idea how they expected him to take it.
No tool. No method. No knowledge of whatever silent understanding the room shared.
But that didn't matter.
Not here. Not now.
If there was a rule, then it meant it could be used.
If there was an expectation, then it meant it could be turned.
So he didn't bend to it.
He pushed.
Fat Lu watched him for a long second.
Then, slowly, he laughed.
Not loudly. Not mockingly.
Something quieter. Rougher.
"Interesting," he murmured.
His gaze swept the room once, catching the attention of more than a few who had been leaning forward a little too eagerly.
Then he waved a hand again.
"Make sure our guest isn't inconvenienced."
The servants moved at once.
Two stepped forward, lifting the first crate with visible strain before adjusting their grip. Another signaled toward the door, already preparing to move the rest.
The tension shifted.
Not gone.
Just redirected.
Leylin said nothing.
But he noticed.
That slight hesitation earlier.
That flicker in Fat Lu's eyes.
He had pushed.
And the man had adjusted.
Good.
Fat Lu stepped closer now, not enough to threaten, but enough to lower the distance between them.
Up close, the weight of him was clearer. Not just his size. His presence. The kind that filled space without effort.
"A lion token," he said quietly, eyes flicking once more to Leylin's hand before returning to his face. "In a place like this."
A pause.
"You do like making things difficult for people."
Leylin met his gaze without flinching.
"Only when they make it easy."
For a brief second, something sharp passed through Fat Lu's eyes.
Then it was gone.
Replaced by that same slow, measured smile.
"Careful," he said, voice dropping just enough that only those closest could hear. "A man who carries a lion…"
His gaze lingered.
"…is usually being watched by something bigger."
Leylin didn't respond.
But he understood the message.
This wasn't over.
Not even close.
Behind them, the crates were already being moved, the sound of gold shifting within them echoing softly as they were carried out. Conversations had not resumed. Not properly. Voices stayed low, cautious now, as if speaking too loudly might draw attention.
Leylin turned slightly, his gaze passing over the room.
The same men. The same faces.
But not the same atmosphere.
Where there had been mockery, there was now distance.
Where there had been laughter, there was calculation.
Some avoided his eyes.
Others held them for a second too long.
Memorizing him.
Marking him.
Good, Leylin thought. Let them.
Without another word, he stepped forward, moving past Fat Lu, past the crates, toward the exit.
No one stopped him.
No one spoke.
But as he reached the door, one thing became clear.
The gold was not the reward.
The attention was.
And in a place like this, that was far more dangerous.