Lan Yue sat in rigid meditation, but her thoughts gnawed at the edges of her discipline like carrion crows picking at rotting flesh.
She had devoted herself to the Azure Moon Sect.
She had obeyed without hesitation, without question.
She had believed, as all disciples were meant to believe, that doubt was the seed of ruin.
And yet—
Mu Qinglan's voice lingered, an intrusive whisper burrowing beneath her skin.
"What do you want?"
No one had ever asked her that before. Want? Desire? The concept felt foreign, obscene, a thing meant to be eradicated.
She clenched her fists until her nails bit into her palms, crimson beads forming where skin gave way to pressure.
This was weakness. This was poison.
She would cleanse herself of it.
She would remind herself where her loyalty lay.
So she went to the only place where doubt was crushed like brittle bones beneath an iron boot.
A Dangerous Meeting
The Hall of Elders loomed in silent judgment, its lanterns casting pools of dim, flickering light across the cold stone floor. Seven figures sat enshrined in shadow, faceless, voiceless, their presence suffocating in its inevitability.
She knelt, her spine straight, her voice devoid of tremor. "Disciple Lan Yue seeks wisdom."
The First Elder's voice scraped through the silence like rusted steel. "Speak, child."
"If a disciple remains steadfast in action but wavers in thought, are they a traitor?"
A pause. A flicker of unseen movement.
Then, the Second Elder answered, sharp as a blade's edge. "Loyalty is not a matter of the heart. It is a matter of will."
The Third Elder's voice was colder still. "Doubt is a disease. The weak nurture it. The strong carve it out."
Lan Yue felt something crawl up her spine. A premonition of something vile, something inevitable.
The Fourth Elder's voice was deceptively soft. "Tell us, child. Who has made you question?"
Her breath stilled.
If she spoke Mu Qinglan's name, the sentence would be swift. A cleansing—no, an execution. But silence was no safer. They smelled hesitation like blood in the water.
She lowered her head. "No one, Elder."
Silence. Stretched thin. Suffocating.
Then, the Fifth Elder's words came like a noose tightening. "Do not allow doubt to fester. Those who stray will be corrected."
The Sixth Elder shifted forward, and in the dim light, Lan Yue glimpsed a cruel smirk. "Would you like to see what happens to those who let doubt take root?"
A door groaned open behind them, and something was dragged forth—a barely living thing, barely human.
A former disciple. Or what remained of one.
Flesh peeled from muscle, nails pried from fingers, eyes left hollow pits of suffering. The scent of burned skin and rotting wounds coiled through the air.
"They had doubts," the Elder murmured. "We corrected them."
A gurgled whimper came from the thing at their feet. A plea. A mistake.
A foot pressed down onto its throat, the wet crunch of cartilage caving under pressure.
Lan Yue did not flinch. She did not move. She had been trained for this, sculpted for this. But something within her trembled.
She was already marked.
Mu Qinglan's Final Push
The hall's suffocating weight lingered on her shoulders as she walked, unseeing, unthinking, until she found herself before Mu Qinglan's courtyard.
She had known Lan Yue would come.
She stood waiting, a quiet, knowing smile on her lips. A predator welcoming prey.
"Senior Sister," she murmured, stepping forward. "You look like you've seen death."
Lan Yue's voice was a threadbare whisper. "They do not trust me."
Mu Qinglan sighed, tilting her head. "Of course they don't."
Lan Yue flinched. "They wouldn't act without proof."
Mu Qinglan's smile sharpened. "You believe that?"
Lan Yue hesitated. She wanted to. Desperately.
Mu Qinglan stepped closer, the air between them a thin wire drawn tight. Her fingers brushed against Lan Yue's wrist—featherlight, fleeting.
"They've already decided," she whispered. "They're waiting for you to slip."
Lan Yue swallowed against the weight in her throat. "What do I do?"
Mu Qinglan's hand tightened, nails digging in just enough to sting. "You survive."
Her voice softened, honey laced with arsenic. "You know what they do to traitors."
Lan Yue's breath trembled.
"They will carve the truth from your bones," Mu Qinglan continued. "You saw what was left of the last one. Do you want to end up like that?"
A vision—her own body, split open, torn apart piece by piece. Pain so prolonged it blurred the lines of sanity.
"I would never betray you," Mu Qinglan murmured. "I would never let them touch you."
A promise. A lie. A binding contract written in blood.
Something inside Lan Yue fractured. The last, desperate tether holding her to the sect, to the past, to the illusion of safety.
She let it break.
A single, damning decision settled in her bones.
She would stand by Mu Qinglan.
She would protect her.
No matter the cost.
Even if it meant betraying everything she had ever known.