As the group dispersed to settle in, Han Yu slipped his hand into his robe and pulled out his communication jade slip.
He infused it with a thread of Spirit Qi, sending out a message toward Meng Jueyan. His eyes flickered with hope as he waited.
But instead of the usual sensation of a message transmitting, he felt something far different.
It was as if invisible blades had shredded his intent apart, tearing the message before it could leave his grasp. The sensation was not painful, but it left a strange discomfort in his chest, like threads snapping all at once.
Han Yu frowned, his heart sinking. 'This is the interference High Elder Qing had warned about.'
The turbulent Qi of the realm seemed to twist and shred communications, rendering them unreliable. He wondered if perhaps another time, or another place, the message might succeed, but for now, it was useless.
He let out a slow breath, pocketing the jade slip. 'Maybe I'll stumble onto her.'
