The fragrance of evening blossoms lingered around the stone houses in Elder Mei's garden, the air calm but tense like the stillness before a storm. Disciples moved quietly, afraid to disturb the silent clash of two powerful figures.
Inside Mo Han's residence, the thick wooden door creaked open. Elder Mei, dressed in her snow-white robes, her eyes sharp like polished jade, stood at the threshold. Across from her, a figure in black stepped lightly onto the stone path—Elder Park. Her expression was twisted with disdain, lips curled as though she had swallowed poison.
"You dare come here?" Elder Mei's tone cut through the quiet like a blade. "This is my garden. My disciple resides here."
"Disciple?" Elder Park sneered, her voice shrill. "That boy? That thing from the Pink Blossom Tree sect? Mei, even you can't be serious. To protect a rotten seedling, are you ready to go against me?"
