The clan council chamber held the stillness of a shrine and the cruelty of a court, both wearing the same carved smile . Elders took their seats like stones in a riverbed; the current of opinion found its course around them, as it always does .
The patriarch's eyes were tired. "There must be consequence," he said, the words shaped by duty's chisel . Tian stepped forward, bowing low. "Investigate fully. Bind my movements, but do not bind justice to haste" .
An elder rose, palm sheened faintly with qi. "You will not direct us," he said, and struck. The sealing palm thudded soft as rain against Tian's chest; heat flared, then absence, like a room's fire snuffed leaving only the shape of its warmth behind .
"From this day, you are no heir of Ling," the elder intoned. "Until your name is clean, your dantian is sealed and your title removed" . Tian tasted iron. He bowed again, because sometimes dignity is a blade with only one edge and it cuts the one who uses it .