Lin Tian sensed his companions: Xueya's cold focus and Su Lan's protective heat closed in.
The chamber dissolved, its golden threads turning to dust in the mountain wind. At the center, the emissary remained trapped in her own hardened silk. Lin Tian approached. Her bindings had loosened enough for her to breathe, but she stayed immobile, head bowed,strands of dark hair sticking to her damp forehead.
He crouched in front of her, the gravel of the path crunching under his boots. "Li Yao," he said.
She flinched at the name. "Don't," she whispered, her voice raw. "That's not… it's a title they gave me. For this… duty."
"What is your name?"
She hesitated, her eyes darting to his, searching for cruelty. Finding none, only that unnerving, depthless calm. "Yue Chan," she finally said, the admission seeming to cost her the last of her pride.
"Yue Chan." He tested the name. It suited her better—softer, with a hidden resilience. "You tried to drain me. To hand me over. Why?"
