The sun hung lazily above the Feilun Sect, its golden rays filtered through layers of cloud and mist like a divine lantern straining to pierce the veil.
It was a peaceful afternoon. Too peaceful.
The kind of peace that didn't soothe, but unsettled.
Feng Yin didn't trust it one bit.
She stood atop one of the outer courtyard platforms, hands behind her back, spine straight as a sword, watching the distant mountain paths vanish into the horizon.
Somewhere beyond those silent ridgelines, Tian Shen was walking beside a woman colder than moonlight and twice as sharp.
The wind curled past her robes with a hush, as if the mountain itself was holding its breath.
She exhaled softly. In worry. In restraint.
No matter how she presents herself to Tian Shen, she still was, but a woman in love.
If she let her mind drift too far, it would reach him. And then it would stay there.
"Still no news?"
Asked a voice behind her.
