The silence lingered.
Sharp.
Unforgiving.
"…Or would that have given you time to put on a better act?"
For a split second—
Li Xian's smile cracked.
Then—
His father laughed.
Light.
Amused.
As if nothing had happened.
"Haha… relax," he said, waving his hand slightly. "Just a joke."
But the laughter didn't reach his eyes.
Not even a little.
The tension didn't disappear.
It just… changed.
Li Xian's smile returned.
Perfect.
Controlled.
But his fingers tightened around the wooden sword.
Just enough to notice—
If you were looking closely.
And someone was.
Han.
Li Xian's father's gaze slowly moved away from him—
Scanning the courtyard.
Observing.
Measuring.
Until—
It landed on someone.
Han.
For a brief moment—
Something unreadable passed through the man's eyes.
Then—
A smile.
Polite.
Familiar.
Dangerous.
"Well, well…" he murmured.
And then he walked toward him.
Li Xian's expression changed instantly.
That controlled calm—
Shattered.
"Father—"
He stepped forward quickly, following.
Not out of respect.
But instinct.
Because he didn't trust him.
Not even a little.
Han didn't move.
Didn't step back.
Didn't greet him.
He simply stood there—
Watching.
Cold.
"Zhao Han," Li Xian's father greeted smoothly, stopping in front of him. "It's been a while."
His tone was warm.
Too warm.
"How are you?"
A pause.
Then, casually—
"How is your father doing?"
Silence.
Heavy.
Han's grip on the sword tightened.
Slightly.
But enough.
The knuckles turned pale.
His jaw clenched.
Eyes darkened.
"…He's well," Han replied flatly.
Respectful.
But distant.
Li Xian felt it.
Immediately.
That shift.
That tension.
That barely-contained anger.
And for the first time—
Something inside him twisted.
His father smiled, as if satisfied with the answer.
"Good. Good."
Then, lightly—
"Tell him I miss him."
That was it.
Han's expression didn't change.
Not openly.
But Li Xian saw it.
Clear as day.
The way his fingers curled tighter around the sword.
The way his shoulders stiffened.
The way his gaze sharpened—just for a second.
Anger.
Pure.
Controlled.
Buried.
But not gone.
Li Xian's heart sank.
"…What are you doing…?" he whispered under his breath.
More to himself than anyone else.
Because this—
This wasn't coincidence.
His father didn't just notice Han.
He chose him.
And whatever history lay between them—
It wasn't simple.
Li Xian stepped slightly closer.
Not touching.
Not obvious.
But enough to place himself between them.
Just a little.
A silent move.
Protective.
His father noticed.
Of course he did.
A faint smile curved his lips.
"…Still the same," he murmured.
Li Xian didn't respond.
Didn't move.
But his guard was fully up now.
Han's gaze flickered briefly toward Li Xian.
Just for a second.
And something in his expression shifted.
Because this—
This wasn't the playful Li Xian.
Not the loud one.
Not the teasing one.
This one was different.
Sharp.
Aware.
Careful.
Real.
"…If there's nothing else," Han said coldly, "I'll take my leave."
His father didn't stop him.
Didn't insist.
Just smiled.
Watching.
Always watching.
"Of course," he said calmly. "We'll speak again."
Han turned.
Walking away without another word.
But the moment he passed Li Xian—
Their shoulders almost brushed.
And Li Xian spoke.
Quietly.
Barely audible.
"…Be careful."
Han didn't stop.
Didn't reply.
But his steps slowed—
Just slightly.
Before continuing forward.
Behind them—
Li Xian's father watched everything.
Every glance.
Every movement.
Every silence.
And smiled.