Ji'an stood on the bottom step of the hut, pointing the tip of her spatula directly at the center of Yan Lie's broad chest.
"You do not come near this hut until I specifically call for you," Ji'an laid down the law, her voice echoing with undeniable finality. "You do not threaten my squad. And you do not provoke me further, or I swear to the Heavens, the next beating will involve a cast-iron wok and boiling chili oil! If you think you're some big, bad lord of the realm, then guess what? I am your grandmother! Respect your elders and learn some manners!"
She held the pose for a full five seconds, daring him to challenge her.
Yan Lie stood in the dirt. He slowly lowered his arms.
There was a distinct, red rectangular welt forming right in the middle of his forehead where the spatula had made first contact.
He stared at the gray-robed youth standing on the stairs.
