The conference hall smelled of sandalwood and ambition. Wei Xuan's frost-edged blade lay across her lap as she spoke, each word crystallizing in the air:
"Alliances are forged in gold and broken with whispers. Would you let children's squabbles shatter centuries of trust?"
Jiang Fengmian's teacup trembled. Across the carved mahogany table, Jin Guangshan's jade rings clinked against his cup – a predator's chuckle.
"Youthful folly," the Jin patriarch drawled. "Let women handle their embroidery."
Lan Qiren's gaze sharpened between them. His guqin strings hummed faintly, resonating with the frost patterns creeping across Wei Xuan's sleeves.
——
Wei Wuxian knelt when the verdict came.
"Five days' suspension," Lan Qiren pronounced, marble-carved severity in every syllable. "One thousand copied rules."
The punishment tasted like mercy.
——
When Wei Wuxian rose, his shadow cut through the hall's incense smoke.
"Jiang-zongzhu." His voice held the finality of a snapped sword. "This orphan has overstayed your charity."
Silence pooled like spilled ink.
Jiang Fengmian's fingers whitened around his cup. Across the room, Wei Xuan's blade emitted a subsonic hum – winter compressed into steel.
"Discipleship is not a cloak to discard."
Wei Wuxian's laughter rang hollow. "Nor a cage to endure."
Lan Qiren's guqin silenced with a discordant twang. Frost bloomed across the Lotus Pier delegation's seating cushions.
The sect leaders' breaths fogged in sudden chill.