Inside the ancestral study of the Durant estate, the heavy scent of sandalwood clung to the air, mingling with herbal medicine and the faint bitterness of aged incense. The room, lined with dark wooden shelves full of ancient recipes and boxes of herbs, was a testament to the traditional medicine family's legacy.
The sharp crack of a slap broke the silence, echoing off the carved ceiling beams.
In the middle of it, Silas Durant stood rigid, his head turned to the side, a red imprint spreading across his left cheek. The corner of his lips had split, and he could taste blood in his mouth. His father's antique jade ring had not only struck flesh but also pride.
"You! Do you even comprehend what you have done? You destroyed our family's spotless reputation! A legacy built over a century shattered in a single moment!" Norman Durant, his father, spat. His face flushed a deep crimson, and his finely tailored traditional robes looked wrinkled from his fury.
