Yanmei stood there a while longer, then finally lowered her hand and straightened her robes. Whatever conflicted thoughts lingered were pressed down, buried beneath composure and long habit.
Outside, the sect was already stirring.
By the time she stepped into the corridor, the quiet intimacy of her chambers had been swallowed by movement and sound. Disciples streamed past in steady currents, their voices overlapping in low excitement, whispered speculation, and barely concealed ambition. Robes from different halls and lineages brushed against one another, colors and insignias blending into a restless tide that flowed in a single direction.
The Outer Sect Tournament grounds.
