Outside the headquarters of the Knights of Favonius, Schubert stood at the bottom of the steps, flanked by members of the Lawrence family in protest.
He wore an ornate ceremonial robe—a family heirloom passed down from one head of the house to the next, a symbol of their honor.
Acting Grand Master Jean was currently in a tense standoff with Schubert and the others.
Behind her, little Klee was still in her pink pajamas, a soft sleeping cap atop her head, her big, innocent eyes blinking anxiously.
She clutched tightly to Jean's coat like a frightened little animal seeking shelter.
Seeing this, Schubert nearly exploded with rage and shouted, "You're doing a fine job as Acting Grand Master! Your Spark Knight blew up our house last night! Is this how the Knights protect the citizens of Mondstadt? Hand over the criminal—now!"
Hearing her name, Klee immediately shook her head and protested in a pitiful voice, "Klee was asleep last night! I didn't play with boom-boom bombs! Klee was a good girl, Master Jean..."
Jean gently patted Klee's hand in comfort and reassurance.
She turned to Schubert and said sternly, "Klee was asleep the entire night. The Knights have ample evidence to prove this. Your Lawrence family should not make accusations without proof. If you continue to interfere with the Knights' official duties like this, we will be forced to take appropriate action."
Knowing the Knights of Favonius to be reasonable and nonviolent, Schubert decided to push his luck with baseless accusations.
"We may be a fallen noble house, but that doesn't mean we'll let the Gunnhildr family trample on us! Your Knights are harboring a criminal!"
Jean's brows knit at the mention of her family.
"I'm speaking to you as the Acting Grand Master of the Knights of Favonius. We are impartial and just. Do not turn this into a feud between families."
Schubert began throwing a full-blown tantrum.
"The Knights are sheltering a bomber! Citizens of Mondstadt, come see for yourselves how the Knights protect us!"
He shouted loudly, trying to rally the public.
Just then, Eula pushed open the gates of the Knights' headquarters and strode to Jean's side, pointing a finger at Schubert on the steps below.
"Uncle!" Eula's voice cut through the air like icy wind—sharp and resolute. "Stop slandering! Klee was asleep last night. How could she possibly have blown up your house?"
Schubert grew agitated upon seeing Eula, jabbing a finger toward her face.
"Eula Lawrence! You're one of us! How can you side with outsiders? Our home was bombed by that little brat, and yet you defend her!"
Eula was so enraged she could barely speak. How did I end up related to people like this?
Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to remain calm and repeated, "Uncle, I'll say it again: Klee. Was. Asleep. If you want to pick a fight with the Knights, at least come up with a better excuse."
Schubert's face turned scarlet with fury. Clutching his chest, he trembled as he roared, "It was that little brat who bombed our house! Turn her over!"
At that moment, Klee, who had been hiding behind Jean, couldn't hold back anymore.
Her little face was scrunched in frustration and anger as she shouted, "It wasn't me! You're a bad guy! You're blaming Klee!"
Hearing that only further infuriated Schubert. He pointed at Klee, voice shrill and cracking.
"It was you! You blew up our home!"
Just then, a voice—icy, calm, and unmistakably authoritative—rang out.
"Did someone say something about 'blowing up a house'?"
It wasn't loud, but it carried the weight of final judgment, as if it had emerged from the depths of the abyss itself.
Everyone present froze. It was like being hit by an invisible force. They gasped and instinctively held their breath.
The Lawrence family turned in unison. It was Shao Yun. He had arrived.
Shao Yun's gaze swept coldly across the Lawrence family members, a mocking smile tugging at his lips.
"So, it's you lot. I thought there was a real crowd out here—but it's just the Lawrence family. To anyone else, this would look like a circus, with a clown and his monkeys performing outside the gate of the Knights of Favonius."
The moment he spoke, the expressions of every Lawrence family member soured. They glared at him, but none dared act rashly.
Why did they confront the Knights so boldly? Because the Knights talked and reasoned.
Why not blow up at Shao Yun? Because he actually kills people.
Shao Yun approached slowly, the tension in the air growing thicker.
He licked his slightly dry lips, his voice eerily calm. "Who did you say blew up your house?"
Schubert faltered but forced himself to answer, "The Spark Knight, of course..."
Before the words had fully left his mouth, Shao Yun's expression darkened.
SMACK! His hand shot out like lightning, landing a resounding slap across Schubert's face.
The force of it left Schubert's cheek bright red and swollen. He clutched his face, eyes wide in shock.
"It wasn't her," he stammered, voice trembling. He looked at Shao Yun in disbelief.
Shao Yun smiled—but it was a cold, dangerous smile.
"I'll ask one more time: Who blew up your house?"
Schubert's mouth twitched. "The Spar—"
BAM! Shao Yun's fist slammed into him, sending him sprawling to the ground.
Lying on the pavement, Schubert stared in horror at the bloody teeth scattered beside him.
Shao Yun crouched down, glaring straight into his eyes.
"This is your last chance. Who blew up your house?"
Schubert was a mess.
He turned his head, staring at Jean, Eula, and the innocent little girl nearby.
"Hey! Knights! Someone just assaulted me! Are you really going to stand there and do nothing?!"
Even in defeat, he still acted like he was in control.
Jean and Eula exchanged a glance—and acted in perfect sync.
Jean covered Klee's ears, while Eula shielded her eyes. Then they both tilted their heads back at a casual forty-five degrees.
Jean looked up at the brilliant blue sky. "Eula, lovely weather today, isn't it?"
Eula nodded. "Sure is. Not a single cloud. Perfect for drying laundry."
Schubert could make no sense of what was happening. He yelled, "I'm being assaulted! You're just going to ignore this?!"
But Jean and Eula remained unmoved.
No one dared stand in Shao Yun's way. And honestly? After what they did to Klee, the Knights were already showing tremendous mercy by not beating the Lawrence family down themselves.
Shao Yun stepped over to Schubert, grabbed him by the collar, and lifted him to his feet.
"Last night, I blew up your house. Not Klee. You invited me over, didn't you? So, I went. I was going to spare you since it was the festival. But now? Now I regret not dragging a shotgun inside and wiping every last one of you out."
Hearing this, Schubert was so stunned that he could barely form words.
You crossed the Lawrence family? Then you've kicked a hornet's nest—no, a pillow!
"Y-you... I..." His voice trembled like smoke in the wind, struggling to form a sentence.
Shao Yun gave his cheek a light pat, sneering.
"Since it's the holiday, I'll give you one last kind gesture. Hand over everything valuable. Then get lost."
Schubert, stunned, looked toward Jean in desperation, his tone softening.
"Master Jean! Someone's robbing us in front of your headquarters! Aren't you going to do something?"
But Jean and Eula still acted like they hadn't heard a thing.
Jean looked toward the clear sky and said calmly, "You know, Eula, maybe we should wash the sheets too, not just the quilts."
Eula nodded in agreement. "I think so. It's such rare weather—it'd be a shame to waste it."
Schubert's cries echoed through the square, but Jean and Eula remained utterly indifferent.
Their cold indifference filled Schubert with despair. "Help! Robbery! Someone stop him!"
SLAP! Another crisp blow from Shao Yun. His smile widened.
"You can scream all you want—nobody is coming. Now, this is a robbery."
The rest of the Lawrence family glanced at each other, faces pale with fear and helplessness.
Under Shao Yun's threat, they handed over every bit of valuables they had—Mora, jewelry, heirlooms.
Satisfied, Shao Yun gestured toward Lumine. "Lumine! Take care of this. Once they're done handing everything over, they can scram."
Relieved, the Lawrence family scrambled to turn in their valuables to Lumine, then fled without so much as a backward glance.
Schubert, now stripped of everything, was left in nothing but a thin undergarment.
He quivered and asked, "A-are you… a bandit?"
Why was Schubert Lawrence in such a sorry state? Because he'd been personally robbed by Shao Yun!
Like a whirlwind, Shao Yun had looted everything valuable on him—gold, jewels, antique relics—nothing escaped.
Not even the ceremonial robe, the treasured heirloom said to date back to when their ancestor crossed the gate with Barbatos. Priceless.
Without hesitation, Shao Yun had yanked it off, bundled it up with the rest of the loot.
When Schubert asked that final question, Shao Yun calmly shook his head.
"Thanks for the compliment. But I'm not a bandit—I'm a raider. Now… get lost. You've got ten seconds. Or I'll consider planting you in the Knights' flowerbeds."
Schubert paled. With a terrified yelp, he turned tail and fled, screaming, "You win!"
"Happy Weinlesefest—to the circus clown and his silly monkeys!"