The Chief took a step back, then another, as exhaustion finally caught up with embarrassment. His breathing was shallow, chest rising unevenly as the strain of lost vitality reminded him that pride alone could not hold a body upright forever.
"I… cannot," he said at last, voice low but steady with effort.
"I already have a wife. And a son."
The merchant woman blinked once. Then again.
And then she laughed.
"HAHAHAHA–!"
The sound rang loudly through the market street, sharp and unrestrained, drawing curious glances from nearby stalls and passing pedestrians who slowed their steps without daring to come closer.
"So?" she said, waving her hand dismissively as if brushing away dust. "What does that have to do with me?"
The Chief froze.
"…What?"
"I asked whether you'd marry me," she continued bluntly, eyes unwavering. "Not whether your life is clean."
Mu Long's jaw dropped.
Diala stiffened where she stood. "Shameless…" she muttered under her breath.
