Meng Hao stepped out of his room, gently closing the wooden door behind him. The morning sun had begun its slow rise over the horizon, casting long golden rays across the serene sect grounds. A soft breeze swept across the courtyard, carrying with it the scent of dew-drenched grass and blossoming spirit flowers. He paused for a moment, narrowing his eyes at the warmth that touched his skin.
With a quiet exhale, he adjusted the cloak over his shoulders, pulling the fabric higher to conceal his face. His robes rustled lightly as he moved. After last night's events, he knew that wandering openly through the sect might invite unnecessary attention—especially from those with sharp noses for gossip or envy. There were already enough whispers surrounding him.
