Yiren stormed toward the front door, every stomp echoing like thunder through the marble halls of the grand palace. His steps weren't just loud—they sounded like they carried enough fury to level a mountain.
He flung the door open with a crash and roared
"JUST STOP, YOU LITTLE—!!"
But all that met him was... emptiness.
No one was there.
He scowled, eyes darting around the empty entrance. With a grunt of irritation, he stepped outside, scanning the grounds for whoever dared disturb his peace. And then—bump!
"Ouch!"
Yiren looked down to find two tiny figures who barely reached his knees. His scowl deepened into a sneer.
"Huh? Ants knocking on my door?" he scoffed.
One of the boys tilted his head back and shouted indignantly, "We're not ants! We're people, you old man!"
Yiren's face froze. Then, almost imperceptibly, his hand twitched. With a growl of barely restrained fury, he grabbed the boy by the collar and hoisted him up until they were eye to eye.
"Who did you just call old, you little fly? I didn't quite hear you," Yiren hissed, his voice booming like a storm about to break. The boy trembled, legs kicking in the air.
The second boy sprang into action, smacking Yiren's leg with a tiny fist. "Let go of my brother, you old man!"
Yiren sighed with exasperation, dropped the first boy like a sack of potatoes, and snatched the second in the exact same manner. "Care to repeat that?" he asked, voice low and threatening.
The boy trembled—but still managed to shout, "Old man!"
Yiren looked like he was about to explode when Gardiyan's calm voice cut through the air. "Are you seriously picking a fight with children, Yiren? Isn't the great Yiren supposed to be wise?"
Yiren paused. Then he exhaled sharply and dropped the second boy.
"Tsk. Kick them out—or kill them, if you'd like. The food's going to burn," he muttered, turning on his heel and walking back inside.
Gardiyan knelt and offered a hand to the stunned boys, giving them a smile that looked like it was borrowed from someone far more gentle. "Are you alright? Sorry about him. He's... kind, deep down. Don't worry."
One of the boys, still shaking, looked up with teary eyes. "Did he really say he'd kill us? Are you going to kill us?"
Gardiyan chuckled lightly. "Of course not. Unless you annoy me again. Then it's up for discussion." He gestured toward the path. "It's best if you leave before Yiren returns."
He started to close the door, but one of the boys stuck his tiny hand between the frame and the door, stopping it just in time.
Gardiyan's expression turned cold, his eyes narrowing. For a moment, he genuinely considered slamming the door anyway—broken fingers and all. But the thought of having to listen to the ensuing wailing made him reconsider.
"What now?" he snapped, his distaste undisguised.
The boy asked shyly, "Can I... use the bathroom?"
"No."
Gardiyan pushed the door again, but the little hand blocked it once more.
"Wait! I won't take long—just two minutes!"
Gardiyan sighed deeply, cracked the door open a little, and muttered, "You will leave right after that."
Both boys nodded so fast they looked like bobbleheads. Gardiyan pointed them toward the bathroom. One of them went in while the other stayed by the door, glancing at Gardiyan nervously.
After a few seconds, the second boy approached Gardiyan hesitantly, as if trying to strike up a conversation. "Are you guys rich?"
Gardiyan didn't look at him. "Yes."
"Was that man your dad?"
"You could say that."
"Can you give us some money?"
Gardiyan gave a helpless shrug. "I don't make those decisions."
"The old guy makes the decisions?" the boy asked.
Gardiyan nodded, visibly bored. "Yes. But my advice? Don't ask him. Your life's worth more. Anyway, where's your brother? It's been more than two minutes."
The boy grew visibly anxious and turned toward the bathroom. As soon as his brother came out, he rushed to his side and whispered something.
"They're rich... Try asking for money!"
Gardiyan didn't even glance their way. He was busy selecting a biscuit from a tray and wondering how to end this inconvenience with as little effort as possible.
"Can I go to the bathroom too?" the second boy asked.
Gardiyan waved him off without lifting his gaze. "Fine. Whatever."
Moments later, the first boy, now alone, approached the couch again. "Where's your dad?"
"Dead," Gardiyan replied flatly, still eating and reading at the same time.
The boy paused for a second, then asked again, "Then who was that man?"
"A stupid one."
The child blinked, clearly unsure what to make of the answer. "Is he the owner of this palace?"
"Yes."
"Can you take me to him?"
"No."
The conversation ended with those sharp replies. The child tugged on the hem of his clothes, a deep frown forming on his young face.
"What? Didn't I tell you to kill him? I mean, get rid of him?"
Yerin appeared suddenly, his entrance as dramatic as always. Dishes floated behind him, arranged in an elegant, magical formation, moving through the air like a well-trained squadron. They glided toward the low table in front of the couch where Gardiyan sat with his book, legs crossed, unreadable as ever.
"Ah!" the boy gasped, pointing at the plates as they hovered, eyes wide with wonder. For a moment, he forgot why he was upset.
The plates landed gently with a faint chime. Yerin didn't give the boy time to react. He grabbed him by the back of his shirt and flung him out the door like someone tossing out yesterday's trash.
Yerin brushed his hands together, looking pleased with himself. He turned around, already preparing to accept praise for his 'clean-up'… and stopped dead in his tracks.
Another boy, nearly identical to the first, stood silently by the table. His gaze was fixed on the roasted chicken, lips slightly parted in longing.
"Huh? Didn't I just throw you out? How did you get back in?!" Yerin barked, marching toward him.
"No, that was my twin, Rain," the boy replied in a soft, even tone. He didn't even blink.
Yerin blinked several times. His expression darkened. "I don't care if it was your twin or your grandmother! OUT!"
He grabbed the second boy and tossed him right out beside the first one, then slammed the door shut with finality.