The crimson twilight deepened around them, painting the sky in darkening hues as a gust of Spirit Qi raked across the clearing. In a flurry of shifting shadows and swirling wind, more than a dozen cultivators descended, each bearing the crest of the Xiao Family upon their robes. Their collective power weighed on the air like a gathering storm.
They arrived expecting a crisis—a mortal threat bearing down on Princess Wen—yet discovered her standing at the lake's edge, worry etched into her face but otherwise unscathed. Confusion rippled through the group, though none voiced it. She was, after all, the Xiao Family's cherished princess, and her authority glowed as palpably as the distant embers of the sunset.
