The awkwardness hangs, so thick that it becomes palpable. Li Weizhen bows a second time, thinking that he's overstayed his welcome. "Thank you, again. This Li Weizhen owes you his life. I…uh. I— I should…" His eyes dart to the window and he contemplates forgoing niceties. "I should get going."
The window is there, ready for him to swing open and jump out of. Unfortunately, he only gets to take one step and there's a hand on his wrist, holding him back— This masked man sure is quick! Crossing the room in but a breath.
Weizhen freezes, his expression stiff. He eyes the man with lips pulled taut and fingers calling up into fists. "If it is a duel you wish for, then I will be pleased to supply."
