Wang Rouyun's voice echoed through the cold, empty dungeon. "Jing!" she called, her eyes narrowing as the figure stepped closer. The dim light revealed the familiar face of her lieutenant—her once loyal ally, now standing before her with the air of someone in control. The betrayal twisted in her chest like a dagger.
"Why?" she demanded, her voice harsh with anger and disbelief. "Why would you do this?"
Jing remained silent, his expression unreadable as he looked down at her. He didn't answer, didn't even acknowledge her question. Instead, he turned slightly and gestured with his hand. From the shadows, one of his attendants appeared, carrying a wooden chair. The attendant quickly set the chair down, and Jing lowered himself into it, his movements calm and deliberate, as if he had all the time in the world.
