The day after Mark's shocking victory in the arena, the atmosphere in the sect had yet to settle. Whispers filled the air as disciples looked at him with a mix of awe and wariness. He was no longer just the grandson of a traitor and the man with the blessing of the Phoenix and Blizzard Pegasus; he was now the sect head, a title that carried weight, legacy, and responsibility.
Mark was in his residence, meditating. He was going through his plans over and over again in his head. But a soft knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.
"Come in," he called.
The door creaked open, revealing Lan Xia standing in the doorway. Her eyes held a knowing warmth as she stepped inside, closing the door behind her. Her presence was a welcome balm to the chaos swirling around him.
Mark smiled faintly as she approached and sat down on a cushion across from him. He gestured toward the small table where a pot of freshly brewed tea sat. "Tea?"
