A breeze rolled through the city, lifting petals from the lantern trees, scattering them across the rooftops and glowing banners.
Inside a tall pagoda carved from black jade, a pair of eyes narrowed behind a paper fan.
"So… that's the guy?"
"Mm," another voice replied from the shadows. "He didn't even chant. Just waved his hand and poof—your niece's big move turned to sparkles."
"…She trained for eight years to master that sound phoenix."
"Yeah, well—he finished a bowl of noodles while dodging it."
The fan snapped shut.
Down below, the city moved like nothing had happened, but you could feel it—people were buzzing. Shopkeepers whispering behind counters. Kids reenacting the fight with wooden swords and finger flicks. Elders quietly adjusting the rankings on their jade slips.
Adam? Still sitting, feet up, leaning against the stall with a straw poking out his tea.
He blinked once. Then twice.
"Yo," he said suddenly, "you guys feel that?"
