The four new arrivals didn't speak. They didn't need to—every step toward the hearth was deliberate, boots sinking into the wet boards.
Conversations died. Chairs scraped back. A serving girl froze mid-pour, eyes wide.
Ruo Han's breath slowed, his hand lowering toward the hidden dagger at his belt. Beside him, Xiyue shifted his weight just enough to be ready. Ling Han's chopsticks clicked softly against the edge of his bowl, but his eyes tracked every movement in the room.
The man by the fire rose, smiling as if greeting old friends.
"You're late."
One of the newcomers snorted. "Roads were icy."
A murmur rippled through the patrons as the strangers fanned out, forming a loose half-circle.
Xiyue's voice was calm, but carried like a drawn blade. "If this is about the pass, we can settle it outside."
The man by the fire tilted his head, amused. "Oh, but that's the thing. I don't want to settle anything. I just want to see what you can do."
He flicked two fingers.
The first attacker moved—a blur of steel flashing toward Ruo Han's throat. Xiyue was already there, intercepting the strike with the flat of his blade, the impact ringing through the room like a bell.
Chaos erupted.
Chairs crashed. Dishes shattered. Xiyue drove his opponent back with tight, controlled cuts, every swing avoiding the scattering inn-goers. Ling Han vaulted over a table, kicking it into another attacker's knees before slamming his palm into the man's chest, sending him sprawling.
Ruo Han spun low, dagger slicing across an opponent's arm before the man could draw fully. He caught the bloodied wrist, twisted hard, and used the man's momentum to hurl him into the wall—narrowly missing a cowering patron.
The man by the hearth didn't lift a finger. He just watched, his eyes glinting in the firelight, as if memorizing every step, every strike.
Within moments, three of the attackers were on the floor, groaning or unconscious. The fourth staggered back, breathing hard.
Xiyue kept his sword leveled. "If you wanted a show, you've had it. Now talk."
The man smiled faintly. "Not here. Not tonight. But we will meet again… and next time, it won't be in such polite company."
Without another word, he walked out into the snow, the surviving attackers limping after him.
The inn was silent, save for the crackle of the hearth and the sound of Ruo Han's unsteady breathing.