Elder Fang Ruì walked at the head of the group, her steps light despite the weight of her title.
At eighteen, she was already one of the youngest Qi Transformation cultivators in the Fang Clan's recent history, a feat that earned her the rank of Elder, yet left her leading peers barely a year her junior, all still in Qi Condensation.
She clutched the mission scroll, its parchment crisp against her fingers as Coldwind City's mist-threaded breeze tugged at her sleeves.
"Focus," she chided herself.
Explaining the task felt like balancing on sword's edge, too stern, and she had seem pretentious; too casual, and they had forget she was their Elder.
Behind her, the five junior cultivators chattered like sparrows, their energy bright and unburdened.
All except Fang Lian.
Lian trailed slightly apart, a silent shadow. The others unconsciously left a half-step of space around her, their eyes filled with hostility.
