The weight of unease settled deep in Feiyin’s chest, an oppressive force pressing against his ribs. He couldn't shake it, no matter how much he tried to reason with himself. It was the same feeling he had before—before his village burned, before everything was taken from him. He knew better than to ignore it.

  Ren sat next to him, arms crossed, staring blankly at the distant horizon. "I barely slept last night," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. "I always sleep like a rock, but something felt... off."

  Feiyin exhaled through his nose. "It’s not just you. I've felt it for days."

  Next to them, Shen Mu, who had been listening in silence, glanced between the two. "We should—"

  His words were cut off by the sound of rushed footsteps.

  Yue came barreling toward them from the direction of the task hall, her golden eyes wild, her breath short with panic.

  "Hui is missing!"

  The words slammed into them like a hammer, instantly rousing them to full attention. Feiyin was already moving, stepping forward, his expression sharp with concern.

  "What happened?"

  Yue tried to steady her breath, but urgency dripped from every word. "She didn’t return to our cabin last night. I thought she might have stayed in the rented practice rooms like she sometimes does, but when I checked, her name wasn’t there."

  Shen Mu, forcing himself to be rational despite the growing dread in his chest, tried to reason. "Couldn’t she have left the practice rooms before you checked?"

  Yue shook her head, frustration and worry colliding. "No. I asked the disciples in charge of registration last night."

  Ren frowned. "And they actually answered? They usually don’t care unless it’s part of their duty."

  Yue scoffed. "I beat them up, so they talked."

  A sharp, humorless breath escaped Ren’s lips. "That sounds more like you."

  Feiyin’s mind was already running through possibilities, cutting through the noise. "Where else could she have gone? Let’s check your cabin first—just in case she came back. If she’s still missing, we’ll spread out."

  Without another word, they moved. Urgency crackled in the air between them, an unspoken understanding that time was slipping through their fingers.

  As they approached Yue and Hui’s cabin, an unusual sight greeted them—a small crowd gathered in front, speaking in hushed tones. Unease twisted in Feiyin’s gut as his eyes narrowed toward the source of the disturbance. From the center of the murmurs, a voice rang out, casual and taunting.

  "My senior brother found her quite tasty, so when he heard she had friends here, he was generous enough to return her to them. Yet, even after I came, they are not here to receive us. Your friends are not very hospitable."

  Something in Feiyin’s blood turned to ice.

  They pushed through the crowd, stepping past the whispering disciples, until they came to the front of Yue and Hui’s cabin.

  A man in pristine white robes, three pink streaks marking his shoulder, stood before a group of menial disciples. And at his feet—

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  A naked corpse.

  The world blurred.

  Hui.

  Her black hair, tangled and lifeless, spilled around her pale face. Her bright blue eyes, once filled with warmth and quiet curiosity, now empty—frozen in an expression of agony. Her body, once full of gentle beauty, now shriveled, a husk of what it had been.

  Violence had left its mark upon her, in the way her limbs twisted unnaturally, in the dark bruises marring her skin. In the way her purity had been torn from her, her body drained of its vitality, her primal yin forcibly taken. The traces of deprivation, of cruelty, of horror clung to her even in death, as if even peace had been denied to her.

  A whisper broke through the suffocating silence.

  "Hui…"

  It came from Yue, her voice barely audible, trembling with disbelief. Her legs buckled beneath her as she fell to her knees, reaching forward as though to wake her friend from a terrible dream.

  But it wasn’t a dream.

  It was real.

  Something inside Feiyin shattered.

  His vision blurred—not from tears, but from the sheer magnitude of his rage. His hands trembled at his sides, not with sorrow, but with the overwhelming need to destroy something, to rip apart the ones responsible, to leave nothing but ash in their wake.

  Ren was uncharacteristically silent, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles had turned white, his usually sharp gaze glazed over in fury. Shen Mu, ever the composed one, had already reached for his poison belt, his hands moving mechanically, blindly, as if he had lost all sense of restraint.

  The white-robed disciple smirked. "Oh? So you must be the so-called friends. Senior brother mentioned she kept calling out for you. How touching." He chuckled, his tone dripping with mockery. "He enjoyed her greatly. So much so that he even sent her back to you as a kind gesture."

  A sharp breath tore from Yue’s throat. Tears streamed freely down her face as she reached for Hui’s lifeless hand, clutching it in her own.

  "Hui… what have they done to you…?"

  Her voice broke.

  Feiyin stepped forward, his face a mask of eerie calm.

  When something reaches an extreme, its opposite is born.

  He had never felt such anger in his life, yet in the depths of that fury, a terrifying clarity took over. It washed over him like ice, numbing everything but the cold, unwavering purpose settling in his bones.

  He knelt beside Hui, his hands moving with a gentleness that contrasted the storm within him. With quiet reverence, he removed his outer robe, covering her ruined body with it, shielding her from the leering eyes of the crowd. His fingers brushed against her cold skin—lifeless, devoid of the warmth that once made her Hui.

  He spoke, voice quiet, but carrying the weight of death itself.

  "Who did this to her?"

  The white-robed disciple tilted his head, as if amused by the question. "Why, my senior brother Feng, of course. He rarely praises any beauty he takes, but this one? He enjoyed her immensely." His smirk widened. "You should be grateful he even sent her back, since he usually loves collecting wilted flowers."

  Feiyin looked up, his grey eyes dotted with amethyst like frozen steel. Then, slowly, a smile stretched across his face.

  "What a kind gesture..." His voice was steady, almost gentle. "Let me properly welcome you as a good host. Ren, Mu."

  As if a dam had broken, the words snapped them into action.

  Ren lunged first, his anger coalescing into pure violence as he tore through the menial disciples with terrifying precision. Shen Mu followed, releasing vials of poison, the air filling with lethal mist as he moved with mechanical efficiency.

  The white-robed disciple barely had time to react before Feiyin rose to his feet, stepping forward as he slowly unsheathed his saber.

  The man sneered, his short black hair rising as his aura surged. "Even if you’re angry, what can you do? I am a third-class outer disciple, a Qi Condensation cultivator under Senior brother Feng."

  Feiyin ignored him.

  Instead, he turned to Yue, who was still kneeling, sobbing softly. With careful hands, he rested his palm on her head, his touch light.

  "Yue," he murmured. "Look after Hui for me. I will prepare a small present for her first."

  Then, without another word, he stepped forward, his saber gleaming as it left its sheath.

  The air trembled.

  And the slaughter began.