The red banners fluttered in the wind.
The wedding had begun. Drums beat at the entrance of the hall, and disciples lined the path in silver robes, petals falling from their hands. Wei Shen stood tall in crimson silk, his sword sheathed at his waist—a ceremonial weapon, dulled and polished, a symbol of honor.
Yu Lian waited behind the curtain. He hadn't seen her yet.
The Sect Master gave a toast, smiling too much. Some of the elders looked strange—tense, almost forced in their joy. But Wei Shen didn't notice. His heart was full.
And then, the drums stopped.
It wasn't part of the ceremony. Someone shouted outside. A sword clashed against stone. Wei Shen turned just as the first blade pierced through the tent wall—red on red, steel against silk.
He drew his sword instinctively, even though it wasn't sharp enough to fight.
"Traitor," someone growled from behind. He turned—
Meng Qi.
His brother. His friend. Blade drawn, no hesitation.
Wei Shen barely moved in time. Another attack from the side. Then another. He stumbled back, bleeding, confused, betrayed. Dozens of disciples surrounded him—familiar faces turned cruel.
"Why?" he gasped.
No one answered.
The last thing he saw was the banner of the Azure Cloud Sect collapsing, drenched in blood.