Chapter 327: Chapter 327 – Sabrina’s family?

The servants’ announcement cut through the dusty courtyard like a death sentence.

Sabrina’s eye twitched once. Twice. Then her whole face twisted into an expression that was pure, murderous disbelief.

“I will,” she breathed, voice dropping to a deadly whisper, “murder every single one of you.”

The head servant—an elderly woman with a weathered face that somehow glowed with misplaced joy—clapped her hands. “Oh, Young Miss! We thought you’d never return! And with such wonderful news!” Her gaze flicked to Tianlong, then down at the shivering, pants-soaked Kai still cradled in his arms. “The Mistress will be so pleased!”

Tianlong’s lips curled into something that almost looked like a smile. “Well,” he drawled, adjusting his grip on the whimpering cat-boy, “this is… awkward.”

Sabrina’s mind raced. That bastard looked way too amused by this whole situation. Of course he did. To him, this was probably like watching a show—her humiliation on full display because she’d been announced as married.

Yet, she couldn’t ignore the irritating little part of her attention that noticed how he handled the gate situation—not with brute force, no—though she knew he was capable—but with strategy. Calculated precision. It ate at her that this perverted asshole was also… competent.

Akane stepped forward, her fox ears twitching as she fought back a grin. “Should I correct them, Lady Sabrina?”

“Don’t. You. Dare.” Sabrina’s words came out strangled, her tiger tail lashing behind her like a whip.

But it was too late. The servants were already sprinting back through the broken gates, their excited chatter spilling out on the wind.

“Mistress! Mistress! Young Miss has returned!”

“She brought a husband! And a child!”

“Oh, what blessed news for the family!”

Sylvia’s silver hair caught the fading sunlight as she tilted her head, her crystalline eyes quietly assessing the dilapidated estate just beyond the gates. “This… is your family’s mansion?” Her tone was careful, neutral, but the question hung heavy with unspoken judgment.

Sabrina clenched her jaw so tight Tianlong could almost hear her teeth grinding. “It’s the branch family estate. Not the main clan’s palace.” Her words were sharp and bitter. “Happy now?”

“Ecstatic,” Tianlong answered dryly. His eyes flicked down to Kai, who pressed his face against Tianlong’s chest, still trembling. “Hey, kid. You alive down there?”

“Lady Sabrina is scary,” came the muffled voice.

“Told you.”

Sabrina whirled on him, amber eyes blazing. “What did you just—”

“Shall we?” Tianlong gestured toward the gates with a casual flick of his hand, completely ignoring her fury. “I believe your family is expecting us.”

Walking through the estate was like stepping through the ghost of a once-great kingdom.

This place had to have been magnificent. Tianlong could see it in the bones—the sweeping rooflines, the intricate stone carvings now worn smooth by time and weather. But now? Decay had taken over. Weeds pushing through cracked paving stones. Walls crumbled, leaving gaping holes that exposed inner courtyards to the unforgiving sky.

Servants lined the path, their threadbare but clean robes worn like badges of pride despite poverty. They bowed respectfully as Sabrina passed, whispering greetings, but their eyes flicked constantly to Tianlong—curious, confused, and wary.

A man. Walking alongside their Young Miss as an equal. With women trailing him like attendants.

It was wrong. Unnatural. Against every rule they’d ever known.

Tianlong felt their gazes like weights pressing down on him. His Absolute Domain expanded on instinct, sensing the emotional currents swirling around—confusion, judgment, suspicion. And beneath it all, a darker strain—fear? Or something bleeding into anticipation?

“Your servants seem… concerned,” he murmured to Sabrina.

“Of course they are,” she snapped, not even lowering her voice. “You’re a man. In a matriarchal world. Acting like you own the damn place.” Her tail lashed again, sharp and angry. “If it were up to me, I’d have left you at the gate.”

“And yet, here I am.” Tianlong grinned, teeth flashing. “Funny how things work out.”

Sabrina’s ears flicked, irritation bubbling beneath the surface. She hated that he was right. Hated that she’d been the one to drag him back here. But Kai’s desperate state had left her no choice. And somehow—somehow—he’d read the political undercurrents in seconds after hearing the boy’s story. Disturbing. Men were supposed to be oblivious to these games of power and intrigue. But this one? This one was different. And it made her uneasy.

Kai peeked up from his hiding spot in Tianlong’s arms. “Um… can I please go home now?”

“No.”

The answer came in unison from Tianlong and Sabrina, causing Kai to shrink back with a pitiful whimper.

They entered the main hall, the doors hanging crooked on their hinges. Inside, dim paper lanterns flickered against walls draped in faded tapestries—ghosts of battles and legendary tigers, their colors muted and lost to dust and age.

At the center, a woman sat poised with the control of a queen. Her sharp features were impossibly youthful—far too young to be Sabrina’s mother—and her dark hair was arranged in an intricate style as if to reinforce her command. Robes of deep crimson silk embroidered with gold caught the lamplight, highlighting her elegance.

Her hands rested in perfect repose. Her smile was warm. But her eyes—those eyes were calculating.

Meilin had been expecting Sabrina’s return. Not this soon. The intelligence from the main clan predicted a later arrival—enough time to squeeze Sabrina out, enough time to cement new power without challenge.

But here she was. Early. Uncaught off guard. And with… company.

Behind Meilin’s pleasant exterior spun a sharp mind. Main clan orders had been clear: weaken the branch family, chip away from within. Remove the powerful pieces—first Sabrina, disqualified; then her mother, lured away; and the men, so eager and naive, were easy to trap.

Now Sabrina stood there wild-eyed, unkempt, and beautifully, maddeningly naive.

“Sabrina,” Meilin said, voice sweet like honey laced with steel. “My dear niece. What a surprise.”

Something like relief flickered over Meilin’s face when she saw Sabrina’s flustered, unready expression. Perfect. She hadn’t figured it out yet. There was still time. Time to spin the story to her favor.

Sabrina’s fierce rage melted away, replaced by cool, controlled politeness. “Aunt Meilin. Didn’t expect to find you here.”

“Where else?” Meilin smiled. “Someone’s got to run the estate while your mother is away.” Her gaze slid past Sabrina to Tianlong. “And whom might this be?”

Tianlong was unexpected. There was a confidence in him—no servility. No bowing. He met her gaze head-on, eyes dark and unreadable as if he could see right through her.

A flicker of unease crossed Meilin’s face, quickly masked. No, just some fool Sabrina picked up on her travels. Men were good for one thing—certainly not strategy.

Tianlong lowered Kai to the ground. The boy scrambled behind him, shrinking.

“A guest,” Tianlong said simply.

“How forward,” Meilin replied, eyes narrowing. “In this household, men don’t speak unless spoken to first. Perhaps you come from simpler… circumstances.”

The insult landed sweetly but sharp as a blade.

Tianlong’s grin just widened.

Sabrina’s eyes narrowed as she watched the verbal sparring. Her aunt was playing the traditional dominance game—expected, expected and boring. But Tianlong? He didn’t flinch. No apologies, no submission. Just amused. Like this was some joke only he was in on.

“My apologies,” he said, voice dripping with mock sincerity. He slid onto the sofa opposite Meilin, arms stretched casually across the back—all ease and arrogance. “I’m not well-versed in your quaint little customs.”

The temperature in the room plunged.

Behind Tianlong, Sylvia, Akane, and Xiang shifted subtly, falling into a protective, attentive formation—standing, not sitting, serving their man. Instinctively. Naturally.

And utterly wrong by every rule Meilin knew.

Her smile faltered.

Three powerful women, standing behind a man. Like he was their leader.

Impossible.

Her mind scrambled to explain it. Enchantment? Mind control? But no—their eyes were clear. Willing. They chose to be there.

Fear bloomed sharp and hot in Meilin’s chest. This man was dangerous—for ignoring rules, for demolishing social order with a single posture.

She needed to get rid of him. Fast.

Meilin’s smile crystallized into ice. Servants who lingered near walls froze mid-movement. One woman dropped the tea tray; porcelain shattered in the hush.

“Mother,” came a sharp voice from the side entrance. “Why the hell is a man seated while women are standing?”

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